Delusive (36 page)

“You also kicked Jaco in the groin more times than he’d care for you to, but there’s no need to apologize about that, either.” His eyes darted briefly toward the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

I shook my head, looking down at my stomach. “It’s still too raw.” Bits and pieces of how sick I was came to mind. Embarrassed, I closed my eyes and apologized again, because no one should’ve had to see that or clean up after it, except maybe a well-compensated nurse.

“I’m ignoring your apology, because it’s not needed. I did what I’ve always promised I would do if you only gave me one simple thing.”

It scared me, because looking into his eyes, I knew nothing had changed and we’d hopefully returned to where we were before our big fight after the gallery. For anyone to go through what he did with me and still look at me like the world around us didn’t matter, it made me believe he would do all he promised me. As though my problems needed to be exacerbated, I knew wholeheartedly my feelings for him had strengthened.

“What are we going to do about you and me?” I asked quietly.

“Tomorrow, you’ll find out.”

I looked at the invisible space between us, unsure of why I cared about someone who betrayed me. I expected Milton’s betrayal within reason, he behaved mostly as expected. I did not expect Skylar. It was yet another aspect of my plan that went awry. I expected to be sick, but never that sick. It was all due to Milton switching the drug he was supposed to have given me.

“Did you kill her?” I asked, hanging by my every word. My heart would’ve broken if he had. Like Elias, she could do the worst things to me and never diminish the way I felt about her.
 

“She’s alive. I’m going to ask you to stay away from the news for a while.”
 

“I don’t pay much attention to the news as it is,” I stated with palpable skepticism. Although it was the truth, I had sudden urge to find out what the latest news was. So, I lied. “It won’t be a problem.”

He suddenly smiled, alleviating the pressure from the moment. “Is your passport up to date?”

I searched his eyes, wondering where he would take me that I needed the new passport I received when I changed my name. I had been to Canada with the new one, but it wasn’t the full extent of my travels. “As far as I remember it is. Why? Where are you taking me?”

He gave me a wink and took my hand, pulling me to the dining room. “You’ll find out tomorrow.”

I sat on the edge of the kitchen counter while I watched Elias rummage around the kitchen.

“Don’t make fun”—he glanced at me with a coy simper—“but I only know how to make one dish, chouriço and peppers, and you’re going to eat it. You’ve gone too long without food.”

I looked down at my left arm and picked at the bandage affixed to the crook of my elbow.

“It was only to make sure you weren’t dehydrated,” he reassured me. “It was interesting, even with the way you were, you knew methadone is used for heroin withdrawal.”

“I…did a paper on dependency in college,” I replied. “The information stuck with me, because the withdrawal from methadone could be equal, if not worse. It was something I remembered. It’s interesting to me how you knew what was given to me.”

He leveled a brief look in my direction before returning to his mission.

To cut the suddenly tense air between us, I recalled the debacle that included Skylar. “I can’t believe someone can be so angry to do that to another person. She had to have known I would never do what she thought I did.”

With his back to me, he sighed dramatically. “We’re no longer going to talk about Skylar, because she’s no longer an issue, nor will she ever be one for you or me again. That is…if you’ve finally learned your lesson about staying away from her, because she definitely won’t seek you out.”

Feeling slightly weak, I bowed forward with my chin resting on my closed fists. “I thought you said you didn’t hurt her.”

He glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes cold and stark. “Do I have to repeat myself, Hanley?”

“Can you give me a break, Elias? I just went through the hell of heroin withdrawal. Arguably the worst withdrawal there is. I completely understand why people are so easily addicted to it. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, you’re probably familiar with what it looks like.”

“And why would I be?’ he asked, placing the onions, peppers, tomatoes, and chouriço bundled in his arms on the counter beside me.

“Because of what you do, it’s how you knew what I took, isn’t it?”

He quirked a brow. “I’m trying to understand how owning an architectural firm makes me an expert on heroin withdrawal symptoms.”

My head began to pound, moving me swiftly toward the idea of letting it go. No matter what was said or how many times I asked, he would never admit to what I suspected. “Will it affect my ability to have some semblance of a normal life with you? Because I’m thinking last night was all about you. Milton said…”

He immediately turned to me, urging me to continue.

“Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

His chin lowered, his piercing gaze set on my face, studying my every movement. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

Setting my eyes to the granite countertop, I shook my head.

Approaching me, he stood between my legs and reached behind me to retrieve his phone on the counter. “If I show you something, show you how certain things are dealt with in this town, we’re never to talk about this again.” After pulling up the search screen on his phone, his eyes darted to mine. “I mean it. The issue will be put to bed. I won’t show you until you agree, and you cannot ask questions about what you’re shown.”

“Okay,” I relented quietly.

He gave me his phone and returned to prepping a meal for us. I looked at the screen, showing a picture of a house burned to ashes. Only small remnants of the house’s charred foundation remained. The headline and subtitle read: “Fire on Fletcher Avenue kills 9. Police suspect the cause was an electrical issue.”
 

Fletcher Avenue. The same house where I’d met Skylar and Milton at the party. I scanned the names, recognizing only Milton’s name as one of the deceased.
 

In shock, my hand drew to my mouth. I blinked down at the phone and immediately set it down beside me on the counter. As it turned out, Elias’s threats weren’t idle at all. The man was capable of everything he threatened me with…and so much more.

“Are you a fan of green peppers, Hanley?” he asked nonchalantly, going about cooking the meal as though the death of nine people had very little significance to him. “Many aren’t.” When I didn’t respond, he slowly smirked and winked at me. “I asked you a question,
minha amada
.”

I finally choked out the answer. “Green peppers are fine.”

TWENTY-FOUR

WHEN ELIAS TOLD ME we were visiting Portugal, it became the good news I needed to push away the events of the past and give me something to look forward to.
 

I pictured all the ways it could've looked, but I wasn't prepared for the beauty I encountered while I gazed outside the car window as we made our way to Esposende. From the too-green-to-be-real lush lawns, the palm trees, and the glimpses of the beautiful turquoise water, I was in awe.
 

THE SECOND HE arrived at the villa, I checked out the house, finding polished marble floors and walls painted with a faux marble effect in hues of beige and cream to greet me. The master bedroom had a private balcony overlooking the pool in the backyard. The other four bedrooms looked out over a large garden that led to a tennis court and a soccer pitch.
 

I ended my tour at the back of the house where an in-ground swimming pool stood and a privacy fence surrounded either side of the backyard. The absence of a privacy gate directly in the back permitted a view straight down of the rocky terrain and the beautiful beach to the west. I stood a few feet away from the end of the pool, looking down at the landscape, allowing it take my breath away.

"Do you like it?" Elias asked from behind me.
 

"Love it," I whispered.

"You haven't eaten much since…” From behind me, he wrapped his arms around me and sighed. "Do you feel up to grabbing something to eat?”
 

My stomach still felt very queasy, but I had other reasons for avoiding food. I think it pointed to the emotional more than physical. “Can we skip lunch? A nap right here by the pool sounds perfect.” I specifically eyed the outdoor lounges with fluffy cushions covered in outdoor-friendly white canvas material.

He swiveled me around, holding me tightly against his body. “I have a reason. This is a working trip, so I'd like to spend as much time with you tonight as possible."

"I'll be here alone a lot?”

“Do you really need to ask that question?” Thumbing my chin, he toyed with me, nearing me for a kiss but barely gave me a tease of his lips. “Someone I trust is here to keep you entertained and to take you around to see the sights while I'm busy. You won't be alone for long, Hanley.”

ELIAS TOOK ME to a small restaurant in the village. He mentioned something about it being one of his Uncle Silvio’s many properties. When I sweetly requested to meet his uncle, he warned me to be patient.

Poking at the grilled sardines that looked to have been fed steroids, I asked, “Were they injected with something to make them look like this?” I glanced up at Elias, who tried to stifle his laugh.
 

“Unlike the ones you get in a can, those are real sardines. The chef here cooks them the only way you should—on a grill outdoors."

"Are you planning on kissing me sometime today?"

He grinned broadly and pointed to his plate. “It doesn’t matter when I’m eating the same thing, does it?”

I flaked off a piece of fish and brought it to my mouth. Pleasantly surprised by the taste, I nodded with a smile.

“I wouldn’t lead you astray. Trust me.”

I looked around the restaurant of diners, suddenly cognizant of the days before. While the incident at the house of terrors should’ve knocked the senses back into me, it only made me feel stronger for him. What bothered me the most was the distance—I thought we’d closed—still remained between us.
 

The day I woke up out of the nightmare of withdrawal was only a blip in time, and I could feel Elias slipping away from me as the night had worn on. While I always felt it, it was never as palpable as it was at current. The divide began after I took him back—actually, when he forced me to—and had been increasing at an alarming rate. No matter what I did to return us to what we were before the night at the gallery, the miles of space had widened.

I sipped my water, glancing back at Elias whose attention was undivided. “Do you remember back in Miami, when you talked about trying to connect with your half-sister? Before Lula did that horrible thing to you, did you always try to find Natanael’s kids?”

His jovial expression wore away for something more serious. “I did. While I knew he had many, I was only able to find Lurdes and Keith before I stopped looking.”

“Why do you support Keith, if he’s not blood?”

His mouth twisted down into a frown. “I’m not sure who told you that, but it was a lie. Keith is my brother. I don’t believe in the terms half or step. I only use the terms when I need to clarify my relationship with people who are confused. But to me, a brother is a brother and a sister is a sister.”

“But if you have a good relationship with Keith and tried to develop a relationship with Lurdes,” I surmised, “why did you say that family didn’t mean much to you?”

“The answer is so complicated, I don’t know where to begin.”

“The beginning, maybe?”

“Why are you so curious about this?” He carried a devious twinkle in his eye, the one that made my body react viscerally and clouded my mind with its dirtier impulses.

“Because I’m interested in becoming a part of your family.”

Surprise flickered in his gaze and his posture completely changed. You could’ve sworn someone had just been murdered in the room with the stillness that fell over the table. The sudden strain between us made it feel as though the floor had just disappeared.
 

I looked down at my plate of sardines and tomato rice, realizing the timing wasn’t the best; it was made evident in his reaction. I thought I had everything planned out perfectly and that the moment would’ve been the ideal time to implement the next phase before he put more distance between us than there already was.
 

He continued to stare at me, brooding and displeased as he manically rubbed the swell of his bottom lip back and forth with the side of his thumb.

How could I have been so wrong? Shit!
“Should I ask what you just took from my verbal diarrhea? Do I want to know?” My questions were posed to steer him clear of my intentions, and to hopefully make it seem as though my statement was innocent.

Having trouble keeping my eye contact for the first time…ever, he leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table with his hands clasped together. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to finish it,” he stated as he glanced at my dish. “The fact you tried it at all is good enough.” He looked across the restaurant and nodded to our waiter who nearly tripped over his feet to stop what he was doing and tend to us.