East Rising (Naive Mistakes #2) (12 page)

"Wait, so she
was
on drugs before
that?"

"Oh, yes, definitely."

"But, when she 'died,' wasn't there a
funeral?"

Conall gave a wry smile, shook his head.
"She was cremated. Well, no, she wasn't! Ha!" His humor was dark
now...

"Lots of money, Leora. Lots
of money. Money makes the world go round, doesn't it? The
crematorium gets its cut, the shipping guy gets his cut, everybody
gets their cut. A dog in a coffin gets cremated... Maybe just an
empty box. Disgusting. The big cat at the top feeding it all the
way down. Hell, why didn't the fucker just invest in some decent
liposuction and a toupee to pick up girls the good old fashioned
way? But, no, this
Istvan Vajda
— who fucking knows how it's pronounced... I mean,
and
Istvan
of all
names. That's like 'Joe' or 'Johnny' or something in English.
Christ, can't the devil himself at least have a better fucking
name!?"

He was rambling, I noticed, but I let him.
He poured another glass.

"Anyway, this bugger had a
fetish — one girl, one
specific
girl. That was it. Usually they'd take care of the
drugging themselves, later, after the kidnapping, but they got a
bonus with Alex... Sorry,
Alexandra
— "

"It's fine," I said, putting my hand on his
knee. "Call her whatever you want. I shouldn't have..." I didn't
finish.

"So, Mr. 'Joe' or 'Johnny'
Istvan's fetish was girls who'd been wanted by rich men.
Rich,
young
men. I
mean, my mother is safe because my father's in his sixties, and so
is she. But I was next in line in those days to inherit the family
business — something I never had any interest in. So, technically,
when she was taken, Istvan considered me a 'Rich Man.' My brother,
well, you know my brother, he's so fucked and drugged himself that
I don't think Mr. Istvan appreciated Francis's tastes. Francis
probably fucked only whores while Alex and I were backpacking
Europe...

"But here's the best part..." He shook his
head heavily, rubbed his temples.

"Alex and I went through
Hungary. I remember that house —
palace
is more like it. I remember it
well. And I remember the guards looking at us as we'd walked past.
Alex had the bright idea of trying to get inside. She ran off to
them, backpack on her shoulders. The guards stopped us immediately.
And then, well, Istvan Vajda was obviously spying through the
cameras in his house. He let us in. 'For the good of the community'
or some shit.

"He gave us a tour, showed
us around. We had dinner. And, of course, us being young and
fucking
stupid
, we
told him about ourselves. Told him a lot. And he got to know who I
was. And that I came from money. At one stage, Alex went to the
bathroom, and he asked me, 'You like?' and then pointed at the door
she'd just gone through.

"Of course, young and fucking idiotic as I
was — hell, I probably even blushed — I said, 'Yes, very much.'

"Then the smelly fuck sat back, hands
crossed by his protruding belly, and gave a grin. 'She is nice,
yes...' he said.

"He'd shown a lot of interest in us. Fuck
me, the congeniality was straight out of a Sandra Bullock
movie...

"I don't know that he wasn't involved in
getting her drugged over the next year or so — I mean, here, In
England — before he finally took her. As if it had all been planned
over time. I mean, I know my brother gave her the drugs at first,
but what kept her on them? And was Francis maneuvered to being with
her in the first place?

"Who knows? We'll never know.

"But this guy... He was like the fricking
Joker or something. Mad, methodical, fucking insane. I think you
have to be totally insane to be that high up on the criminal food
chain. I think the lower guys are just, well, I don't know, morons,
idiots. Like that Raphael prick — Oh, has he given your friend any
more shit?"

I shook my head.

"Good." He tried to sip some wine, but his
glass was empty. He looked at it, looked at the bottle. "Fuck it,
I've had enough of this shit. I can't drink more than a glass or
two before dehydrating completely." He put the glass down.

"Leora, you have to
understand something: Alex will never be the same again. Years of
abuse — both her own, you know, the drugs, and then from others.
She... The first four months I had her staying here. I had experts
over here getting her off the drugs,
without
using other drugs to do it!
None of this 'swop one opiate for another' crap. I mean,
real
rehab.

"She woke up screaming most
of the time. Leora, I did sleep in the same bed as her. Next to
her, over the blankets, looking up at the ceiling, and thinking of
you. Sometimes...she held me. I'm telling you this because you
deserve to know it. And I won't defend my position on it. I would
do it again, because she needed help. And I had caused it. My
stupid mouth... But I was
absolutely
faithful to you,
completely.

"I kept you away because I couldn't risk you
being taken as well."

I made a confused frown, tried to piece the
things together, then had the odd sensation of knowing something
because Conall had spoken of this "Istvan" always in the past
tense.

"C — Conall... Is, um, this...whatever his
name is... Is he...dead?"

Conall's eyes looked at me but his face
looked straight ahead. Then his eyes returned their gaze forward.
He gave a nod so tight that I could hardly discern it. In the
moment of realization that came afterwards, I suddenly felt a
strong need for another glass of wine. I poured one. "I think I'll
also take one," he said. I gave it to him.

"Conall, did you, um...?"

He put his hand up to stop me, shook his
head. "Don't ask. I might've turned a blind eye to something...or
not. It's taken care of, that's all you need to know. Your safety
is all I care about, nothing else.

"Leora, some men don't
deserve to breathe the same air as the rest of us. Especially those
who commit crimes against women that...that are unspeakable.
Just...don't ask. I did what was right. And that's all I'm saying.
And Alex is out of there. But, more importantly, Istvan 'Joe or
Johnny' Vajda won't be interested in the girls I have a
relationship with anymore. He won't be interested in you. Ever.
Because he can't be. That was priority number one for me, Leora.
Make
you
safe. No
matter what it cost. No matter if... There was no fucking ways you
would
ever
go
through something like that. Not on my watch."

Mother...
fuck
!

"When...did he...die?" I still wasn't sure
the guy was dead.

"A few days before I texted you asking if
you'd come to London." OK, so dude was definitely dead.

"And why did I have to come alone?"

"I have to confess, Leora,
that...I could've waited longer. No, I
should've
. This slimeball out of the
picture doesn't mean everything's taken care of. But I'm pretty
certain it is. Maybe he had eyes on us. Maybe there's another sick
fuck above him with the same goddamn fetishes. Who knows. Anyway, I
couldn't be apart from you any longer. And when Istvan, well,
'tasted the river-floor' let us say...when that happened, I figured
it was a good enough time. And if it isn't, well, I can protect
you.
Now
I can. He
was the worst. A sick, demented, lunatic. No one could be worse
than him. But if there
is
another guy, watching me, watching us... I can
protect
you
, that
I can promise you. But if Kayla had come along... Two of you would
be just too much to watch over. And you know I'd choose you if I
had to, if I was put on the spot. And I'd hate for something to
happen to your friend because of me.

"In all honesty, I wanted to wait a little
longer. Maybe another three or four weeks. But then..." He looked
away. "Well, I heard of you with that...guy, on that wall, by the
ocean..."

"Oh, right..." I felt suddenly ashamed.

"No, it's fine. It's fine. That you didn't
meet up with someone earlier — You didn't, did you?"

I shook my head. I saw him let out a breath
he'd been holding briefly.

"I'm so sorry, Leora. I'm sorry for the shit
I caused... I fucking hate money. I hate all of this shit." He
pointed to his magnificent house. "It's not worth any of the
trouble it's brought me. Not worth the risks it's imposed on those
I...love. Actually, no, that's wrong. Only one of those people I've
loved, the other I just cared for deeply."

Ahh, right, Alexandra. No, "Alex"...

I did love her. I loved
her more than anyone could love another.
That's what he'd said to me about her once...

He stood from his barstool, put an arm on
either side of me, rested his hands on the counter behind me. I
smelled the sweet scent of good wine on his breath. His stance was
steady, his eyes locked.

"Leora," he said. And here,
finally, after a day of unrest and mayhem and confusion about him,
me,
us
, in my
mind... Here, I felt my Conall again.
My
Conall. The one I'd fallen in love
with, the one who got my blood hot, made my legs weak, and caused
my skin to break out in so many sweats I had decided to start
carrying mist with me in my purse...

Because when his arms locked me there, on
that stool, his eyes searing into me, I got warm. And it wasn't the
fire in the next room. No ways, brother. (Actually, that fire
wasn't doing shit, come to think of it.)

His voice went low. His
shoulders hunched. "Leora, I
don't
love you." He shook his head to emphasize the
point. "Love is too weak a word. You are the sun rising in the
East. You are the star I look for in the dark. You are everything
to me. To say I love you is a misnomer, the greatest crime that
could ever be committed against another human being, or mankind
itself. I so much more than love you." He looked down, grappling
for better words. "You...are my sunrise, my sunset, my day, my
night, the firmament, the stars. You are the moon, the flowers, the
scent of dew in the early wind, my morning coffee, my evening
drink, my pillow, my comforter, my bed, my garden..." He came
closer as he spoke. I was too stunned to move. "You...are my
Leora
, because your name
encompasses all those things to me. And even though the name,
Leora, is explained to us as meaning
compassion
and
light
, I know they got it wrong.
Because Leora means
everything
, all that is important.
You are my everything. My Leora."

His right hand moved away from the counter,
his eyes still trained on my own so that I barely noticed him move.
He pulled his shirt up on the right side, revealing the most
exquisite oblique muscles I'd ever seen. My heart thumped. He
pulled his shirt higher... And there it was:

In perfect script, with curlicues and
flourishes and covered with vines and little angelic leaves...was
my name, on his body, permanently:

LEORA
.

"You know it's a bad idea to get a tattoo of
a girl's name on your body, don't you? That's Tattoo 101."

Conall eased his shirt down, the top now
hanging loosely over the band of his slacks. He placed that hand
back on the counter behind me, came closer. "Is that so?" he said,
moving in toward my lips, but only so far, just enough to make me
break out in that nervous sweat so common of being with him.

"Y — yes, it is..." I
said,
trying
to
focus. Really, really trying. But my focus was going
quickly.

Conall swayed, left, then right, as if eying
prey. His glare lit a flame across my skin.

"And why is that?" he
asked. "Why should I not put the name of the only person I've ever
loved" —
oh, fuck, he just said it. He
just told me he loves me!
— "on my body?
Because I'll never stop loving her, ever. And I want to never
forget that. Because, if I ever leave her — if I ever leave
you
, Leora — then I
deserve to be reminded of you, every day, every time I look at
myself in the mirror... Forever."

"And you do that often? Look in the
mirror?"

"All the time..."

I swallowed. "It's warm in here, isn't
it?"

Conall said nothing. He eased his lips to
just below my left ear, gave me a dry kiss on the lobe, pulled it a
bit. His cologne wafted into me so that I swayed, momentarily
light-headed.

He moved his head down,
still not touching me, but close,
so
close to me. I felt the breath
from his nose go down from below my ear to just above the collar of
my red leather coat.

"I think you need to take this off," he
whispered, such a manly voice, such a gentle, reassuring
rumble...

My legs, which had been together very
prissily, opened, just a bit, automatically. And I felt a small
throb, minor, but it was there. Oh it was there alright...

My eyes closed.

Before I knew it, the song had changed... A
remote? For an iPod? I don't know... I hadn't been looking.