Behind Her Smile (25 page)

“This is more than unpleasant,” I growl.

“Alec, take a seat.”

We exchange a hard stare. This time, I do not relent to his will. When it comes to Karolina, I will never let another man dictate my actions.

“There is no baby. Karolina had an accident. She fell and lost the baby halfway through the pregnancy.”

On the corner of my desk, I keep a tumbler filled with water. The crystal is the first thing my hand lands on. I hurl it against the wall with all my strength, not caring at the carnage in its wake. It shatters into a million pieces of broken glass reminiscent of the way my heart feels.

“Alec! Are you all right?” Liza pops into the room, eyes wide. I hold up my hand to ward her off and shake my head.

“We’re fine.” She eyes the shattered glass and spilled water with an arched brow, but nods in reluctant acceptance. The door closes behind her with a discreet click.

Sorrow replaces the burst of volatile anger. I slump forward, my face falling into my hands as I shake my head back and forth miserably. “That was no accident. All the signs were there, and I overlooked them.” The crushing weight of despair sends me staggering back to the desk chair. “They got married twice. The first one was almost immediately after the plane crash. David asked me to be their witness. At the time, I thought it was because he thought I could keep my mouth shut. The bastard probably wanted me to watch Karolina give herself to him. He put his arm around her waist, and she flinched. I thought it was my imagination, but no, he
hurt
her. The time she broke her wrist, the occasions she moved with care—Fuck!” Anguish threatens to overcome me. “How did I not see this?”

“Enough.”

As if coming out of a trance, I jerk up in my seat. Torment fizzles into a boiling fury. “David Morgan is a dead man walking.”

“If any man dared to lay a finger on my wife or my children, I would do the same. And I would expect your assistance in the matter.” Hector plays the polite businessman during the day, but he is no stranger to nefarious characters or getting his hands dirty. “Just as you would help me, I am here because I am going to help you.”

Trust. Loyalty. Allegiance. We are not brothers by blood, but in every other way that matters.

“Before you do something ill-advised, there’s more, Alec.”

“What else?” I say tersely.

“As much pleasure as I’m sure we’d both receive from exterminating David Morgan from this earth, another hand has already been played—one that even I won’t cross in this delicate situation.”

My knuckles turn white when I clench my hands into fists. “You’re telling me I can’t get him?”

“Listen to me, Alec. The Feds have been eyeing Morgan for years. The shady financial games he’s been playing have caught their attention. They’re going to take him down.”

“And what of Karolina—sacrifice her in the name of getting David? I don’t fucking think so. I’m going in to get her. Tonight.”

Hector scoffs. “Don’t be a fool. Morgan won’t let you near Karolina. If, and only if, you get her alone, do you think she will believe that her husband wants her dead?”

The blood in my veins turns to ice. “He killed their child. What would stop him from killing her?”

Don’t you remember calling her a whore?
Of course, she wouldn’t be willing to run away with me. I’m the asshole who shoved her away.

“As much as I want to see David Morgan rotting in the ground, he’s on the radar of federal investigators. Neither one of us needs to end up in jail because of this. Once the attorneys are finished with him, he’ll spend the rest of his life in prison. The financial shit is strong enough to get him for a few years, but conspiring to kill his wife is the lynchpin on his sentence.”

“If the Feds know David wants to kill her, what the fuck are they doing waiting around?” I bark.

“Listen, they have been gathering evidence on David for two years. Finally, they have a video feed inside his personal office. In seven days, this scheme is supposed to go down. They aren’t rushing in because the evidence isn’t strong enough yet. Be patient.” Hector stresses the last two words. I don’t bother asking how he knows the finite details of a federal investigation. Hector values information as much as I do. If I hadn’t put a moratorium on anything related to Karolina and David, I might have heard this myself.

There are times to hide weakness. Now is not one of them. The ugly words I cursed her with scroll through my mind on repeat. I called Karolina a vile and disgusting word; I accused her of being weak and superficial. Really, I am the colossal fuck-up.

“I failed her.”

“Give it seven days, brother. Then you’ll have all the time in the world to make it up to her.”

I clench my hands until they turn white with tension. Slowly, I release them. Knowing that Hector would not give me bad advice is the only thing keeping me in my chair.
If the Feds don’t do their job, I’ll finish this once and for all.

Karolina

“H
ave you not one ounce of humanity?” The words come out sharp, slowly, each a dagger aimed straight at David. “You killed your mother. Your father. Your brother. Our
son.
”

“You killed him!”

“No, David,
you
did. I didn’t fall on my own. Your violence is the reason our son is gone. I wouldn’t have fallen onto that table if you hadn’t pushed me.”

David’s nostrils flare with a furious exhalation. “None of this matters. You’ll be gone in a few minutes, and I’ll never have to think of you again. You see, it’s pretty simple to cut someone out of your life. Once they’re buried, no one forces you to talk about them or, hell, even reminisce about good times together. In your case, there won’t be a body for a casket.” His lips twitch toward a smile. “You ready?”

I shut my eyes, not wanting to watch whatever’s coming next.

At least if I have to die, I will be with my baby. There’s peace in death. No more broken ribs and wrists and miscarriages. No more pain. Death will be the deepest sleep. David cannot hurt me anymore once I’m gone. In that, I find a whisper of consolation.

“Gang’s all here,” Victor mutters.

Clenching my eyes tighter still, I suck in a breath. The mind-numbing panicking settles and one thought reverberates through my mind:
Please, make this quick.

“Boss—hold up!” Victor’s urgency surprises me enough to snap my eyes open. Confusion launches the room into chaos. Victor and Cox stare at David wildly. There’s a tiny red dot pointing dead center on his chest. A sniper’s target. Could it be help? I try not to get caught up in a wave of hope.

“What the fuck is this?” David stumbles to the left. The dot follows each movement without wavering. All the superiority he wore with unfiltered glee only a few moments earlier melts into uncertainty. The shutters hiding what lurks behind his kind blue-green eyes are gone. David is afraid. No, that’s not strong enough of a word. He’s terrified.

In David’s raw, inhibited fear, I find my own tiny piece of solace.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

A thunderous procession of bangs and then the splintering of wood cause me to yelp. My heart takes a flying leap into my throat. Booted steps storm through the house in rapid succession. Not more than a few seconds pass before four men burst into the office, guns drawn.

“Hands in the air,” one shouts. Cox and Victor, apparently used to this dance, immediately drop their weapons and lift their arms above their head in compliance.

“You manipulative bitch! You called the cops? What the fuck!” David tears across the room toward me, taking a flying leap and crashing against me. For the second time, the chair tumbles backward with me attached to it. I land on the carpet with a thud, and I cry out from the pain reverberating from the base of my neck through the length of my spine.

“You are dead. Do you hear me, Karolina? Dead!” David rages manically, his screams turning incoherent when one of the police officers yanks him away from my trembling body. Two uniformed SWAT team members surround where I lie on the floor. They lift me into a seated position with swift, synchronized motions. Then the man behind me slices through the zip ties binding my hands together. I shake sensation back into my wrists and hands. They are raw and scratched from the restraints.

Meanwhile, the police officers drag a raving David out of the room. I watch in stoic silence as a team of police officers begins tearing through the office, obviously looking for evidence of some sort. A man in jeans and a shirt with an FBI crest over his right pectoral stoops down to my level.

“I didn’t know. I don’t know. What is going on? What did David do? How did you know he was trying to hurt me?” The words tumble out in an incoherent babble. “Please—please, you have to believe me. I have no idea what David’s been doing. He tried to kill me! He hired those men to kill me so he could run away.”

The man looks the part of a police officer with a salt and pepper crew cut and hard sky-colored eyes. “Karolina, calm down.”

My breaths come out in uneven gasps. “Please. Do you believe me?”

Some of the hardness in his gaze melts. “We know you are in no way associated with your husband’s illegal activities. Can you take a deep breath?”

I inhale choppily; the burden still presses down on me but not as intensely. “What is going on?”

The officer extends a paw of a hand to me. Gingerly, I accept the help and rise to my feet. “This is an ongoing investigation, and I can’t give you any details at this time. It would be best for you to obtain a lawyer. From there, we’ll get you as much information as possible.”

At the word lawyer, my stomach drops.
Lawyer.
I could divorce David. I would never have to see him again. Finally. Freedom. The concept overwhelms all my senses. All of it—
all of it
—crashes over me like a relentless tidal wave. The death of my unborn son. The murder of William, Georgia, and Chandler. The constant mental and physical abuse. Wooziness makes me stumble forward. Something catches me before I hit the ground.

Later, jostling at my elbow rouses me from a deep sleep. A woman wearing blue scrubs hovers over me. She uses a penlight to assess my reactivity to light.

I wince away from the jarring light. “Ouch,” I mutter.

She rushes through an introduction. I don’t remember her name. The woman asks me a series of questions about my name, age, and who is president of the United States. Mercifully, she finishes the exam quickly allowing me to fall into another bout of sleep. What feels like only two minutes later, another scrub-clad person wakes me and we roll through the same questions. The process repeats again and again until brilliant sun rays filter through the windows. Finally, the interruptions are too difficult to ignore.

“Good morning.” The familiar voice stuns me. Doctor Lewis, the longtime friend of the Morgan family, stands at the foot of the hospital bed holding a chart. I could cry in relief at his gentleness. “How are you feeling?”

Lifting a hand to my forehead, I investigate. I wince when my fingers brush over a bump on my temple. “Other than a headache and tenderness on my face, everything else seems to be okay.”

Doctor Lewis nods in approval. “Very good. Out of this whole mess, the one piece of good news is that you don’t have any serious injuries. There is some bruising on your face, back, and ribs, raw skin on your wrists, but no concussion. I’ll be happy to discharge you today.”

I don’t hear most of what he says, frozen on ‘this whole mess.’

“You know what happened?” I hate the wobble in my voice.

Doctor Lewis places the chart in a plastic sleeve attached to the end of the bed. “Enough,” he says grimly. “The physical evidence is impossible to hide. There are signs of badly healed broken ribs. Contusions hid by your clothing. Your son.” The doctor’s voice cracks on the word. In silent response, my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. He shakes his head mournfully. “I failed you, Karolina. When you came in with a broken wrist, I didn’t press you hard enough. You’ll never know how deeply sorry I am for not doing more to extract you from that villain.”

A rush of moisture pools behind my lashes. “Doctor Lewis, that is incredibly kind of you to say, but it wasn’t your responsibility. I should have left him, but I didn’t.”

“I consider caring for the community part of my job.”

“Agree to disagree?” I ask with a failed attempt at a smile. Doctor Lewis thinks he could have stepped in and saved me from David’s torment, but it’s David’s fault. All of this—every last bruise and hurtful word—are because of my own failings. I trusted David too readily. I threw away all the things I worked for to become nothing more than a pretty mannequin brought out only when it would benefit my husband. I didn’t stand up for myself. I let him bowl me over time and again until he amassed enough power over me to plan to
kill
me.

Swallowing the building emotion, I gaze vacantly at my clasped hands. More than anything, I want to be alone.

Doctor Lewis stays long enough to do a quick examination and tells me a nurse will be by soon to go through discharge instructions and prescriptions. The physical pain is the least of my worries. Just when I think I have time to myself, the door to the private hospital room opens again. I steel myself for the next visitor.