Invidious Betrayal (10 page)

Aria followed Ian as he crossed the crowded bank lobby. He navigated through the people with ease, while she bumped into a couple of the customers. It was apparent by the décor that this particular branch catered to a different kind of clientele than her local bank back home. The staff was well-dressed, and Aria felt self-conscious because she got more than a few curious looks. She now found comfort in the oversized soccer mom tracksuit and large glasses that covered most of her bruises.

Ian was getting looks as well, but Aria knew it was for reasons contrary to the looks she received. Even with his dark glasses and the hoodie that had come from the same convenience store as her clothing, he still leaked authority and had an air of wealth. These people seemed to know it, especially the women. If he noticed the way the women watched him, he didn’t acknowledge it. His eyes were set in front of him and he moved quickly. Aria had to double her steps just to keep up.

She assumed he was heading for the tellers, but he moved past them and went toward a stairway to the second floor. Ian took hold of her hand as he climbed the stairs. Aria didn’t think about what was happening. She didn’t want to think. She just placed her hand in his and allowed him to anchor her as they climbed. Only, he didn’t let go when he walked into an office and stopped in front of the man sitting behind a large desk.

Aria lowered her head when the man greeted them with a smile. She didn’t feel like smiling. Ian and the banker started talking, but she didn’t pay much attention to them. She was fighting the sudden nausea she experienced because someone who passed by the door reeked of cigarette smoke. Her mind immediately associated the horrible scent with her assault.

“Hey.” Ian’s tone was low and concerned. He faced her, and lifted her chin with his finger so that their eyes met. Aria immediately pulled away from him. He lowered his hand but the other, the one still holding hers, tightened. “Just want to make sure you’re with me”—he gestured to their surroundings with his eyes—“here in the bank.”

Ian trained his smoldering gray eyes back on her. They were like two full moons, mysterious and all-seeing, and easily captured her in their magnetic pull. Aria was sure that when he blinked, she would be released of his hold, but that didn’t happen. When his eyes closed she watched as his long, black lashes almost touched his cheek before rising.

She had to fight to keep her feet planted and not move closer to him, to touch him. Again, his gaze held her captive. Ian was one of the beautiful people. His hair was the blackest of black, his skin a healthy olive tone, and his body was that of a gymnast, muscled perfection. And that mouth of his, full and sinful.

Aria’s face tingled and she was sure it was becoming bright red. She knew him intimately. The circumstances of that fact should have repulsed her; that should be the reason she wouldn’t look him in the face. Looking at Ian should have angered her and his touch should have disgusted her, but it didn’t. In a way, he was just as much of a victim as she was.

At least that was her reasoning for staying with him, but she couldn’t lie to herself. There was something about Ian that called to her, calmed her, and interested her. It was something she couldn’t explain, and she hated it. Aria hated him for how he made her feel, and hated herself for feeling anything towards him at all.

“Aria,” Ian said again.

“I’m here,” she said, her eyes still locked on his.

“But are you all right?” he asked.

Aria nodded, not trusting her voice to sound calm in front of the banker who was watching them with curious interest. Ian looked down at their joined hands and her eyes tracked his. “Oh, sorry,” she said. Her nails were digging into his skin. She released her grip, but Ian held on to her hand a little longer, gave it a gentle squeeze, then released. Aria didn’t miss the concern in his eyes, but she did her best to ignore it.

Ian gave her a weak smile, then motioned for her to sit in a chair before he took a seat in the one next to her. Aria focused on the name plate on the desk that said,
Mr. Holmes,
and tried to melt out of existence while Ian and Mr. Holmes talked.

The conversation didn’t last long before Mr. Holmes got to his feet with what looked like Ian’s ID and a signed check slip. Aria could focus on nothing but the questions spinning in her head. What was she going to do? If Ian was right and his uncle didn’t know about her, then she could go home. She could forget all of this ever happened. She could just go back to being Aria of Land’s End.

Wanting excitement and attention, wanting to be wanted, was a mistake. Aria had wanted a real NC-17 date verses a G-rated one. Now it’s as if she’d been pulled under water and still seemed unable to breach the surface. The horrible scenes she would never forget constantly pushed at the wall she tried to build in her mind. She had to forget it all.

“Our business is done.”

Aria glanced up to see Ian looking at his watch. She must have zoned out because she hadn’t noticed that Mr. Holmes had returned and was again watching her with interest. When she stood, Ian placed his hand at the small of her back. He led her down the stairs, out of a wall of doors, and onto the street. He pulled his hood over his head and put his sunglasses on.

“Why are you helping me? You can just leave me anywhere and be done with this. From what I heard”—she stopped him on the sidewalk in front of the bank—“your uncle doesn’t want you hurt. Sal didn’t want him to know that he’d drugged you. Actually I got the impression that Sal was adamant that he didn’t find out.”

Ian watched her for several seconds then he looked at the bank behind her. His expression hardened as he peered at something that held his interest. Instead of responding to her statement, Ian took hold of her elbow and led her across the street through mid-day traffic. He still didn’t reply as he guided her into a small café directly across from the bank. Ian looked at his watch again as they waited for the hostess to notice them.

Why was he so distracted with the time
?

They waited in front of the hostess booth for almost a minute before Ian spoke. “You look busy; we can seat ourselves.”

“Na, I’ll be with you in a sec.” When the hostess finally picked up a couple of menus and glanced at them, she literally froze. Her eyes brightened and her smile spread wider. Aria felt a weird impulse to move closer to Ian, but she restrained herself, irritated with the crazy thought that came out of nowhere.

“
You
can sit wherever you like.” The hostess beamed. She spread her manicured fingers over the dining area.

Ian pushed off his hood and gave the hostess what Aria hoped was a practiced smile. “Thank you,” he said, pointing to the table he wanted to sit at.

Aria didn’t think it was possible, but the hostess’ smile grew even bigger. “Sure, follow me.”

As they followed her to the table, Aria couldn’t help looking at the woman who glanced back at them at least three times during the short walk to the table, just to look at Ian. Her initial thought was that the woman should have some dignity, but when Aria sat in the chair, she watched Ian remove his glasses as he chose a seat directly across from her at the table. She had to stare herself. He had her questioning whether Cristiano Ronaldo, the soccer star, was still the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, because looking at Ian, she was no longer sure. He was raw, sultry perfection and she knew from experience that he was a gifted, gentle lover.

Why did I have to go there
, she thought as she willed her face not to turn red.

Aria took the menu given to her and placed it on the table. She shook her head to get rid of the inappropriate thought. She nervously fiddled with her napkin as she glanced at Ian who watched the hostess walk away. Thank goodness he hadn’t been watching her—he was too perceptive, seeing beneath the surface of things.

Aria followed his gaze and realized that they had a perfect view of the bank’s main entrance. She was about to ask Ian what was going on when a waitress, a gorgeous blonde with killer legs who looked like a 50’s centerfold, appeared beside the table.

Why the waitress’ good looks bothered her, Aria didn’t know.

“I’m Amy.” She actually curtsied, pinching the hem of her skirt. “Can I start you off with a drink?” Her cheeks were flushed, like she’d pinched them before walking over to their table.

Aria found herself rolling her eyes as she looked down at the menu in front of her.

“Thank you, Amy. I’ll have a glass of water and bowl of soup,” Ian said, giving her a smile.

“Our tomato soup is excellent.” Amy grinned.

Ian handed her the menu. “That’ll be fine.”

“And for your girlfriend?” Amy arched her brow at Ian, then looked at Aria with a saccharin smile.

It was shameless but it was also the perfect way to get the information she needed, who was Aria to deny her the answer? “Oh no, he’s not—”

Before Aria could finish, Ian reached over the table and touched her hand. “This is my sister.” Ian smiled. “What would you like, Cass?”

Cass? Why was he calling her that? Aria glared at him, but Amy smiled at Ian before looking back at her.

“What can I get you, dear?” Amy poured on the sugar...no artificial sweetener in her smile. This time it was genuine.

Aria didn’t know what Ian was playing at, but she wasn’t going to call him on it. Either this was a part of some plan or…he liked Amy. “A side salad will be fine,” she said, looking up at Amy as she handed over the menu.

Amy winced. “Oh sweetie, what happened? Who did this to you?” The waitress, who only looked a couple of years older than Aria, bent forward, lifted Aria’s chin and gently moved her head from side to side to get a better view off her bruised cheek.

Again, Ian beat her to the response. “That’s courtesy of her much-older boyfriend. I came to take her back home.”

For a few seconds, Aria was stunned. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she moved out of the waitress’ hold while adjusting her sunglasses and whispering, “It looks worse than it feels.”

The waitress shook her head. “I hope he gets what he deserves. It’s a shame that animals like him get away with this kind of stuff,” she said to Ian.

“I’ll kill him before he touches her again.” Ian eyes were intense as they stared into Aria’s. He continued to look at her as he squeezed her hand. “I just want to get her home before he can talk to her.”

Aria tensed, but his touch was like her anchor. “You said you would take me someplace safe. Can’t we just go there now?” she pleaded.

“We will,” he promised her. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

“You stick with your brother, sweetie. You deserve better. Don’t let that loser scare you into taking him back, either. My mom took thirty years of abuse from my dad, and she can never get those years back.” Amy, flashed Ian an approving smile and a wink. “Now I’ll go get your order,” she told them as she began to walk away. Amy turned back. “We have a great fudge brownie sundae that will lift your spirits a little.”

“Thanks,” Aria said, forcing a smile. Amy was being nice, so Aria figured she could be, too.

When their waitress walked away, Aria pulled her hand out from Ian’s and glared at him. “What’s going on? You never answered me from earlier, and you keep looking out of the window, then at your watch. And why did you lie to that waitress?” she whispered.

“Just checking to see how badly they want you.” Ian looked over at the bank again.

“How badly they want me?”

The waitress had awful timing, showing up with their order right when Aria was about to ask Ian what he meant by his comment. She even sat down for a few minutes, next to Aria of course, so she could look at Ian.

Who wouldn’t want a clear view of him
?

Aria played with her salad, then slid it aside to play with her dessert while Ian and Amy, waitress and part-time student who loved horror movies, old movies, and the color lime green, shot the shit. Ten minutes of listening to them flirt back and forth was enough to drive Aria insane. She tried to act as if she wasn’t concerned about what they were talking about and the couple of times Amy tried to get her to join in the conversation, Aria answered with one-word, one-syllable responses before returning her attention to her food.

Why was their conversation scratching at her nerves? Just when Aria thought her head was going to explode, Amy got up to tend to another set of customers.
Thank goodness
.

“Be cool.” Ian reached for her hand again, his face calm but his eyes were ablaze. Though she knew he didn’t mean to, he was scaring her. “Now slowly look over at the bank entrance.” Ian pulled his hood up over his head then lifted his spoon to his lips with his free hand.

Aria turned her head and peered out of the window like he’d asked. Looking across four lanes of two-way traffic, Aria saw two men standing just outside the bank’s main doors. They looked like military, not sleazy—if that was a look, but in no way did they blend in with the people around them. Aria didn’t know their faces, didn’t know if they were involved in her rape, but she felt her anger surface. Immediately her mind simulated the noxious smell of sweat, cigarettes, and leather. Acid rose in her throat and a wave of dizziness overtook her.

“I won’t let them hurt you,” Ian told her with a confidence she admired, but questioned. “I won’t give you up.”

Aria nodded, but still couldn’t help how scared she was as she kept her eyes on the two men across the street. How was Ian going to protect her? He was muscled and fit; he was probably even good with his fists, but how was he going to handle two men that looked like trained killers.

“Excuse me, sweetheart. How are you this fine Saturday afternoon?”

That voice sent ice up Aria’s spine. Her head spun as she slowly turned her attention to the man standing with his back to her as he spoke with the hostess.

“Have you seen a young man and woman around here?” the deep guttural, yet nervous sounding voice asked. “A girl with dark hair and brown eyes, she would look worked over a bit. She’s with a young guy—dark hair, fairly good-looking”—he cleared his throat—“about six feet, two inches tall?”