Page 69 of Twisted Fate

I pull on shorts and a tank top and follow.

He heads for the swim deck. The blond gunman I shot is there, wrists and ankles bound, then looped together and pulled behind his back. Hog-tied. He’s lying on his side in a pool of his own blood. His face is bruised and battered. Three of Leo’s men guard him, guns drawn.

I stand on the deck above, watching as Damian kicks the blond gunman over onto his back. The guy groans as the movement jerks his injured shoulder.

I’m the one who put that hole in him. I should feel terrible. I don’t.

Damian hunkers down beside him, grabs his hair and jerks the guy’s head back. He stares at him a moment then releases him, glances over his shoulder and asks, “He tell you anything?”

Whoever he’s speaking to is out of my line of sight.

“He and the others are mercenaries.” It’s Leo’s voice. “Hired by Nicole. He was kind enough to share the names of his associates. I have reached out to our people and confirmed his claim. They are known mercenaries.” Leonardo limps into view. He’s wearing the clothes he had on earlier, rumpled and creased and still a little damp. His right pant leg has been cut off mid-thigh, his leg wrapped in a white bandage. He lifts his hands and laces his fingers together behind his neck, then arches in a stretch. His knuckles are red and bloody.

“What’s his association with the Ivanovs?” Damian asks.

“There isn’t one. Nicole hired him and his associates to kill me. Revenge for her father.”

“Did you kill her father?” Damian asks. “She said it was a bomb. Never known you to kill from a distance when you can do it up close and personal.”

I shiver, remembering how up close and personal Leo was with me just this morning.

“I didn’t kill her father. I’ve never planted a bomb in my life,” Leo says. “But I’m going to find out who did. And I’m going to find out why they want her to believe it was me.”

“Is he of any further use?” Damian asks with a gesture at the bound mercenary.

“No,” Leo says.

Damian nods, grabs the man by the hair, yanks his head back and slits his throat using the knife he took from the stateroom. Blood spurts out, soaking the man’s clothes and the deck beneath him. The wound at his throat gapes.

I press my hand to my mouth and stumble back a step.

Straightening, Damian turns and looks right at me, his expression set in stone, his eyes dark and fathomless.

This is who I am. This is what I am.

He knew I wasn’t sleeping. He knew I would follow him. And he knew all along I was standing here, watching. He wanted me to see this, to see him, no rose-colored glasses, no fairy-tale misconceptions. I told him the truth. This is his way of doing the same.

I wrap my arms around myself and watch as he shoves the corpse into the waves.

He stares down at the blood-stained deck for a second, shakes his head and looks at Leo. “Bastard stained the fucking teak,” he says. “We’re going to have to replace it.”

I turn and go back to the stateroom. Damian doesn’t join me. Not then and not later.

When we dock, it’s Luca who comes to get me, who brings me to shore, who accompanies me in the helicopter. It’s Luca who stares out the window while I cry, the horror and confusion of the day overwhelming me. Luca who finally takes my hand in his and holds it until we land at Harrah’s. Luca who drives me back to the condo.

Luca who gives me a phone. Not the ancient phone Damian took from me. A new one with the same number and my contacts transferred. Not that I have many of those.

There’s a number on it that I didn’t have before. Damian’s.

“Leo will be coming by to speak with you tomorrow,” Luca says. “Get some rest.” Then he places a key card on the kitchen island. The key card for the elevator.

I unpack after he leaves, tossing the pink dress in the trash. I never want to see it again, never mind wear it.

After a shower, I crawl into bed. Leo will be coming to speak with me tomorrow… Alone? I have no clue. Just like I have no clue what he plans to say. Will Damian be with him? Do I want him to be?

He showed me who he is, who he really is. I knew it all along, but seeing it, seeing him kill a bound man and push the body into the waves…

Why do I miss him? Why do I wish he was here with me right now? Why do I crave his presence, the sound of his voice, the feel of his arms around me?

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