Gemini (21 page)

Gemini would have to do the same—she would have to protect them. And to do that, she would hurt them.

There was no other way.

* * * *

Jace had been right. They’d found the setup for a meth lab at his grandfather’s cabin. It looked like someone had actually cooked up a batch there—the equipment was settled in and well-used. Plus, there were a couple of Academy T-shirts tossed around, and Jace spotted a pair of gloves he was sure had come from his own front closet. As evidence that the three men had a good business going, it was authentic in the extreme.

Clay gave him a look when they opened the door to the cabin. Jace really couldn’t help that he had the skill to think like a criminal—he spent a good part of his days with that element.

In a way, he felt like he knew Bryce. His grandfather on his mother’s side had been lieutenant governor back in the day, and Jace had played in the governor’s mansion as a kid. He’d grown up around men with serious political aspirations. Some of them were good men. Some were single-mindedly ambitious, convinced that the end justified any means. And the end was sometimes about their own self-centered goals, not the good of the electorate.

Bryce’s men had made only the smallest mistake—a misalignment of a shade that no one but a guy like Clay would have spotted. So Tomlinson’s hand had been tipped. Otherwise, the meth planted in each of their homes would have been found by the authorities, and, led there by an “anonymous” tip from Bryce or not, they’d have discovered works in the cabin, too.

It would have been a slam-dunk. An end to the careers and personal freedom of the three men. They’d have had only the smallest chance of defending their innocence—none at all without bringing their relationship with Gemini into it. And that would not have been an option.

So, after Clay talked Jace down from just torching the cabin and while Quinn fussed about getting in the car and heading to Sacramento, they’d cleaned the place out. They burned what they could in the fire pit out back and smashed and scattered the rest of it at a dump outside of Cripple Creek.

Then, finally, well past dark, they drove west.

* * * *

It happened sooner than she guessed. On Thursday afternoon, Ron Purdue came back to the house. He opened her bedroom door without knocking, confident of his power over her. He leered at her from the doorway. She was still wearing her jeans and sweater, and he let his disdain show in his face. She’d changed her underwear, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Mr. Tomlinson wants you dressed for dinner. He’ll be here at six.”

He didn’t leave until Gemini raised a brow at him. “Fine,” she said, and kept that brow up until he’d backed out the door.

She sat still, not stirring, trying very hard not to think, until five. Then she rose and showered. She put her hair up and dressed her part—a silk sheath that ended at her knees, made just a little sexy by its sleek fit and the slit in the back. She wore strands of pearls with a large sapphire clasp that contrasted with the fuchsia of the silk. More sapphires and pearls dangled from her ears. She slid her feet into strappy heels.

It was a look she’d perfected in the last two years—class with a touch of sex, a political wife in love with her handsome, successful and powerful husband. With a high neckline and long sleeves to cover the bruises.

She used more makeup than usual, needing a heavy hand to cover the dark smudges under her eyes.

When she was done, she left her room. She walked past her guard without acknowledging his presence, aware that he followed a few paces behind her. Downstairs, she caught the scent of dinner.

Bryce had always used a catering service for the meals they shared, a staff that rotated. The same went for the cleaning crew. She seldom saw the same person twice—Bryce saw to it she would form no attachments.

The formal living room was empty, so she moved to Bryce’s office. When she heard voices there, she knocked on the door. Ron Purdue opened it and stood back to let her enter.

Bryce was behind his desk, as handsome and smartly tailored as ever. He looked up in greeting with a smile, as though in welcome to a beloved wife. “Darling,” he said as he rose and walked to her. “How lovely you look.”

Gemini commanded her body to stay still, her face to smile as he came to her. When he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, she could see just a hint of a smirk. She could dress for him and paste a smile on her face, but she couldn’t keep the cold from her hand that betrayed the utter despair in her soul. The squeeze he gave before releasing her hand was painful—a subtle, deliberate message.

“Thank you, Ron,” Bryce said, dismissing both Purdue and the guard.

Gemini kept her gaze away from the Ron’s face, knowing she would see only snide triumph there. He’d always treated her as an interloper, a threat to his own relationship with Bryce. With Gemini’s fall from grace, Ron was winning. He was happy.

Silently, Bryce led her to the living room. She glanced into the dining room as they passed. The table was set extravagantly for two, and a catering staff member was lighting the long tapers there.

Seating her at a Queen Anne sofa upholstered in spotless cream damask, he went to a cabriole table set with a silver tray, crystal, and wine. He poured two glasses of a dark red, handing one to her before he sat across from her in a wing back chair. It was a Merlot—a wine too bitter for her, as he was very aware.

He lifted his glass to her. “Dr. Mathis’s report was very pleasing to me.”

Hell
. Mathis must have had access to a fast-track lab.

“I’ve been looking forward to our evening ever since I got his call.”

He seemed to pout a little at her lack of response. “You understand you’ll be punished, don’t you?”

Perhaps he didn’t realize there was only one way he could hurt her, and it had nothing to do with how he used her body. Still, she had a hard time suppressing a shudder at the gleam in his eyes.

“I think I’d like to hear, Anne, some of your experiences while you were gone. Did you spread your legs readily for your boyfriends? Did you enjoy whoring for them?” He leaned forward intently. “Did you let them all use you at once? Did they each find a tight little orifice for their pleasure?”

Gemini sipped her wine, the bitter taste of it entirely emblematic of her life now.

Bryce didn’t seem to expect her to respond. “I believe we’ll be exploring some new frontiers tonight. Since I no longer have to treat you as a lady.”

Gemini had nothing to do but keep her gaze steady, but she could feel heat touch her cheeks.

One of the kitchen staff hovered beneath the arch to the dining room until Bryce acknowledged her. He stood and held out a hand until Gemini joined him. With a touch at the small of her back, he took her in and seated her at the table.

They were served small salads, and she forced herself to take a few bites.

Serving plates were set in front of them, then, grilled vegetables and steak medallions. Bryce served himself, then held the plates until Gemini took some.

She cut a small piece of steak but was certain she wouldn’t be able to stomach it. Just as she was about to give up and set her fork down, Purdue came and whispered in Bryce’s ear.

Bryce looked up in pleased excitement. “By all means, show them in.” He watched Purdue leave the room. “Come, Anne,” he said then. “You have some gentlemen callers.”

Slowly, Gemini stood. Bryce held his arm out until she stepped into it. Then, with his hand securely at her waist, he walked her into the living room.

* * * *

It was possible they weren’t showing themselves at their best. They’d been on the road for nearly twenty hours straight, taking turns driving, navigating, and sleeping in the back seat. Quinn still wore the jeans he’d had on when he left the bar, though he’d changed to a button-down shirt that Jace had tossed him the last time they’d stopped for gas.

Jace was still in his suit, but it had obviously been slept in. Clay looked like—well, like he always looked. Pretty much like he was running on coffee and a bad attitude. None of them had shaved.

They made a significant contrast to Tomlinson, who was prettied up, all groomed and sparkly. Quinn spent about one second thinking the asshole was really a better suit for Gemini and then dismissed it. He was a cold bastard, just like this room.

Oh, it looked like it was meant to pass for formal-yet-warm. The seating was upholstered in rich fabrics. Tables and the back of the sofa were gleaming cherry, garnished with scrolls and generous curves that reminded him of historical mansions.

But the art was soulless—incongruous modern pieces that made Quinn think of the days of child labor and dangerous machinery. One of the tables held carved chunks of marble that tumbled together in an unfriendly, alien landscape.

None of it was Gemini, though he knew she’d lived here. In just a couple weeks she’d nested in her room in his apartment—prisms hanging in the window, scarves draped over lampshades, flowering plants. She’d made it a place to curl up with a book in the sunlight, or wrap a beautiful woman in your arms from dusk to dawn.

This was a place for entertaining friends who were valued for the advantages and influence they brought, for maneuvering deals and leveraging bargains.

He hated it.

And he hated the way Tomlinson held a possessive hand on Gemini’s hip and the way she looked at the floor rather than any of the three men who had come for her. The three men she loved.

She was dressed up, too—a subtly hot dress and fucking pearls. Kind of classy and fuck-me-a-little-dirty all at once.

The asshole’s ring was on her finger.

Tomlinson pushed her further into the room. He tilted his head toward Gemini. “Darling, would you introduce me to your friends?”

She turned her head away. “No.”

Asshole acted like he didn’t care. “Ah, well. Why don’t you tell them that you and I have reconciled and that they have no further business here?”

Gemini turned her head back, making eye contact with each of them for the first time. “He’s right. I’d like you to leave.”

She was far from convincing.

Accompanied by the lackey who’d opened the door to them, Clay and Jace and Quinn had come part way into the room. Gemini and Tomlinson stood under the archway to the dining room, half a room away. Clay stalked closer now, until Gemini had to tilt her head to look up at him.

“What are you doing here, Gemini?”

“I—” She had to clear her throat and start again. “I realized it was a mistake to leave here.”

“Remember when you swore to us that you were done with him?” Clay spoke harshly. “Remember when you promised you’d never look at us with tears in your eyes and beg us to understand?”

“I do beg you to understand.”

She didn’t have tears in her eyes. But she was pale and looked fragile as a hothouse flower.

“Because you’ve decided you want to be with this bastard again?”

“Yes.”

“Because you love him.”

“Yes.”

Clay leaned further over her, his shoulder edging Tomlinson out a little. “You’re a fucking liar, Gem.”

Quinn could see Tomlinson’s smarmy little glow. He thought he was going to win.

In fact, Quinn was pretty sure the man was about to get a face full of Clay’s fist. Thinking cooler heads should intervene, he stepped forward.

“Gemini,” he said gently. “We know you’re trying to protect us. And you know very well how that offends us.” He put a hand on Clay’s chest and pushed him back a bit. “Bryce,” he started, glancing at the two men who’d moved closer to their boss. “We found the meth you planted in our homes.” Gemini whimpered at that. “We dismantled the lab you set up in Jace’s cabin, and it’s gone now, too. We’re not going to let you hurt us, and we’re not going to let you have Gemini, either.”

Tomlinson scoffed. “You think you’ve seen the limits of my power? Of my anger? Do you really want to spend the rest of your short lives looking over your shoulder for me? You’ve come into my home. You’ve fucked my wife. Do you really think I’m done with you?”

“Yeah,” Clay said. “We do.” He palmed his cell phone and started scrolling to photos. “After Gem showed up in the Springs, I had a little chat with your girlfriend.” He held out the phone, watching Gemini as much as he did Tomlinson. “You know. Paula? The one you kept in that downtown condo you own? She’s gone now, too, isn’t she? Yeah, I helped her buy a plane ticket out of town.”

Quinn had seen the photos. They weren’t pretty. He put a hand out to steady Gemini as she got a look. She gave a little moan and looked up at Bryce with revulsion on her face.

“He was pissed you’d gotten away, Gem,” Clay said. “He took his frustration out on her. She said he especially liked to hit her in the face, because that was the one place he had to hold back from hitting you.”

Gemini looked like she was going to be sick. She leaned a little into Quinn, away from Bryce.
Fuck, yeah
.

“I’ve got her photos,” Clay went on. “And I’ve got her story recorded. I know she wasn’t the first woman you kept in that condo, and I expect the other women have stories, too. I really don’t think I’ll have any trouble finding them. Have you found a new victim already? I wouldn’t mind talking to her, too. Does she know what she’s got herself into yet? Does she have bruises on her face right now?”

Clay stepped to Gemini’s other side, took her hand, and pulled her over so she was tucked between him and Quinn, clearly separated from the bastard. “You can have whatever life you want, Tomlinson. If you can get these suckers in California to vote for you, have at it. But you can’t have Gem. And if you try for us again,” he wiggled the phone. “You’ll see these photos in every media outlet on the planet.”

Jace had stepped up close now, too, enclosing Gemini in the center of the triangle the three men formed. “Legal problems,” he clarified, “threats to our careers or our lives, even a bad paper cut. Anything happens to us we think might be connected to you, all of this goes public. We have copies made and stored. You won’t find them. We have you by the short and curlies, Tomlinson.”