Authors: Stella Cameron
Tags: #Mystery & Detective, #Contemporary, #General, #Romance, #Suspense, #Erotica, #Fiction
“My brother’s responsibilities have become my own.” He changed gears, and promptly returned his hand to her leg. “You need to be where you can have therapy. Both mental and physical. With physical therapy, this withered leg will improve.”
She didn’t argue with him. She didn’t point out that she’d been using her injured leg from the day she was told it would take her weight and that, although it was thin, it wasn’t withered.
He pinched her so hard above the knee that she gasped.
“Αh, there is plenty of feeling in the leg, hmm? I must remember that. Stimulation is undoubtedly good for it.”
He wouldn’t be able to hold her captive. Would he? “First we must make the call. Then I have certain other things in mind.”
He pulled onto what felt like a sandy lay-by, switched off the engine, and dialed a number on his cell phone. “Υοu were waiting, Bob,” he said promptly.
In the faint light from the dash, Sonnie could see his unpleasant smile. “My father?” she said aloud, and her hopes immediately soared. “Let me speak to him.”
Romano turned until his angle allowed him to clamp a hand over her mouth. “Yes, yes, Bob, of course I’m in touch with her. Rachel’s with you?” He looked so like Frank. She could almost imagine Romano
was
Frank.
“Οh, Mama.” Sonnie moaned into Romano’s steely tennis-player’s fingers.
“Hello, Rachel,” Romano said. “Υοu should have gone to bed and allowed Bob and me to deal with this. You are not to worry. We have things well in hand.” He ground harder against Sonnie’s face. “Ι absolutely agree with you. She has to leave this place. Υοu won’t believe this, but it’s even more unsuitable for a delicate woman like Sonnie than it was before. No, she’s not here. I decided it would be best not to make her anxious over anything. I’m sorry to tell you this, but she is extremely agitated. That will stop as soon as we get her somewhere safe. Tell me what I should say on your behalf.”
He listened for some time and made noises of agreement now and again. Then he said, “Yes, hello, Bob. You and Rachel are absolutely right. And I’m going to make sure we follow your wishes. You know Billy is here with her friend, Dr. Lesley. A fine man. A very fine man. And they seem very fond of each other. With their assistance I will bring Sonnie home.” He paused before saying, “Soon, very soon. Now that I have the terrible news about Frank, there’s nothing to keep Sonnie here. It’s my responsibility to look after her, for Frank and for you and Rachel. Yes, sir. Of course we’ll keep in touch. It won’t be long. Good night.”
He rang off and took his hand from Sonnie’s face at the same time. Panting, she tried to grab the phone. “Let me talk to them.”
“Do you think I’m mad?”
“I won’t tell them about you. I promise I won’t.”
“Tell them what? More lies. Do you think that would help you? Or would it just possibly make them even more convinced that you’ve lost your mind?”
Calm, stay calm. The only defense you have against this man is to make him look ridiculous by being so normal that no one would ever question your sanity.
He put the phone between his seat and the door, where she had little hope of reaching it. “Now, let’s get back to Key West, shall we? I’ll be taking you to the club, so save any protests, because they won’t get you anywhere. When we arrive, I’ll have you make a call to that place on Duval Street. I will give you a script, so you won’t have to worry your head about what to say.”
“If you say so,” she told him. “I’m very tired, Romano.”
“You’d better sleep for the next few minutes then. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before I tuck you into my bed.” Only with super control did she stop herself from shuddering at the thought.
“I didn’t expect you to fall apart when I told you Frank had been kidnapped, you know.”
Sonnie didn’t answer, but goose bumps flourished on her skin.
“Your behavior was out of character. Or perhaps it was in character, but I just hadn’t seen that side of you before. Out of control. Completely out of control and obsessed with what Frank’s disappearance might mean to you. You showed no concern for him.”
“I have no recollection of what was said to me, or how I reacted.”
“Don’t you?” With one hand on the wheel and the opposite arm spread along the seat behind her, he drove easily now. “I don’t think I believe you anymore. Oh, it could be that you’ve done a great job and buried some details, but it’s all there somewhere, isn’t it?”
“Νο,” she said, and her heart began to hammer. “I don’t remember anything, except...no, nothing.”
His fingers curled around her shoulder, and the car traveled a little faster. “Except? Come on, Sonnie, if you’re going to be really well again, you’ve got to get this out.”
“Nothing,” she insisted. “I just had an impression for an instant, but it’s gone away.”
“Concentrate on that impression. Tell me anything. I’ll take whatever you say seriously.”
“Νο, nothing.” She paused. “Fire.” No, she hadn’t meant to say that.
“Fire?” Romano said. “What fire?” He cracked the windows a little, and the smell of seawater slipped in on the wind that lashed the car. “Fire that night?”
“I don’t know.”
“Sure you do. The Volvo caught fire. It wouldn’t be too unusual for you to think you remember something about that. It didn’t start until after you’d been thrown out, of course. But you might have seen it.”
She drew her heels up onto the leather seat. “I couldn’t have. I was already unconscious.”
“You can’t be so sure of that.”
Her hip ached, and her feet. She rubbed at her right foot.
“They said you must have caught your shoe on the gas pedal and trapped the foot. There are a lot of little bones in a foot, and you broke just about every one of them.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Were there any sounds?” he said. “Anything at all. Maybe you heard the gas exploding. Or glass breaking. Do you think you may even have heard a voice, or voices?”
She trembled steadily. “I don’t remember anything. I was thrown a long way and I was unconscious for days afterward.”
“So the reports go. You didn’t have your seat belt on. Didn’t you ever wear a belt?”
“Of course I did. I don’t know why I didn’t have it on that night.”
“Because you were so upset at what I’d told you about Frank?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think that was it.”
“You didn’t love him anymore, did you?”
She dared to look at his face. The expression he turned in her direction was amused, evil and amused.
“You don’t have to answer that. It’s not important. What is important is that you allow yourself to get in touch with what happened in your head that night. We know about your body, but I want to be sure we’re not missing any useful clues from Sonnie the woman.”
At last he emerged from the overseas highway and made a left turn from Stock Island onto the oceanfront on Key West. Romano moved swiftly through the gears, and the powerful vehicle shot past the airport and along deserted South Roosevelt.
To keep herself from being sick, Sonnie breathed through her mouth. He showed no sign of slowing down.
“Stop,” she cried, finally unable to restrain herself. “Please, oh, please. Not this. Not again. Stop.” She screamed, and the sound went on and on until Romano hit her across the mouth.
Sonnie screamed afresh. “Don’t hit me,” she shouted, tasting blood. “Don’t hit me anymore, Frank. Please don’t hit me. I can’t change anything. It’s too late.” She felt herself slipping away.
Faster and faster. On the right, buildings were a blur; then there was open ground. And, finally, the wall loomed. That wall. Each time she’d been forced to come this way since her return, she’d contrived to look elsewhere. Tonight, in the heavy darkness, the headlights of the Jag drew her eyes to the hard, curved surface, and she couldn’t do anything but stare at it.
Her next scream lodged in her throat. She felt the wheels lock. They shot forward like a downhill bobsled out of control. She covered her face and head.
A sound—screeching. It went on and on. The windows slid down and the violent wind, torn inward by velocity, pinned her against her seat.
“Now what do you remember?” Romano yelled. “Tell me, Sonnie. What do you remember?”
“My head,” she said. “Don’t hit me again.”
“What else?”
“Noοoo—my foot. No. No, my foot. The brake. I can’t reach the brake. Stop it. The brake. Stop it. It’s too late.” She closed her eyes and wrestled to undo her seat belt.
The screeching sound didn’t stop.
She felt the Jag’s wheels turn normally. Fast, but not locked.
The car stopped. Sonnie lurched forward but the seat belt stopped her from hitting the dash. She expected the air bag, but it didn’t deploy.
The sound of laughter broke the last threads of her control and she twisted in her seat. Romano grinned at her, his eyes, eyes so like Frank’s, crinkled with hateful, malicious mirth. “You are not, how do they say it, tightly stitched.”
She wouldn’t set him right. “I’m fine. As fine as any human being would be after what you just did. I’m going to the police.” At once she knew her mistake.
“I don’t think so, my dear. There is not one person alive who will believe you once I have told the story of this evening, of your madness.”
Sonnie’s cotton shirt was soaked. Her windswept hair clung to her head and neck. He thought he had won whatever it was that was so important for him to win, but he was wrong. She did not believe Chris would turn against her.
Lights flashed before her eyes. Dancing lights. Her face hurt. There was pounding in her ear; her right ear and the bones in her face ached on that side.
She grasped the door handle.
Romano brought the back of his hand against her mouth again. “Do as you are told. The door is locked, but you annoy me that you try to escape me. You will never escape me.”
Her lips swelled. She felt the tissue puff up, and the renewed drizzle of blood into her mouth.
“Don’t think anyone will believe you if you say I struck you. You struggled with the wheel and almost sent us into the wall. You are obsessed with that wall. It is your craving to die there and take someone with you. Tonight it was me. You hit your mouth when you struggled with me. So you see, you cannot outdo me. I am too clever for you. Now you can get out.”
“I don’t want to.”
“But only a moment ago you tried to get out. Now I insist.” He opened his own door, unbuckled her belt and his own. He dragged her across his seat and out onto the verge near the wall. The front of the Jag had stopped only inches away.
“Why are we here?” She could scarcely hear her own voice for the bellowing roar in her brain.
“You know that amnesiacs are encouraged to reclaim their own memories. With as little help as possible.”
“Yes. But to bring me here? And to do what you just did?”
“What I did? My dear, it was what you did. Slamming your foot on mine to drive us at this wall, then fighting with me to stop me from interfering with your death wish.”
“I didn’t do that. I have no death wish. You lied to me—and to Roy. You told us you needed my company, to talk to me. I didn’t want to come, but I agreed because I felt I should.”
“How touching. But how will you deny the evidence of your behavior? Am I known as a man who hits women?”
“I don’t know. Are you?”
He raised a fist, but gradually returned it to his side. “That’s where the Volvo hit and exploded,” he said, pointing. “You were fortunate. You were thrown through the window and onto sand. If there had been no sand you would be dead for sure—as your baby is dead.”
Sonnie staggered. Hysteria hovered so close to the surface of her body and soul that she threw out her arms as if she might ward off whatever came at her.
“Good,” Romano said, advancing on her. “Υοu are such a good girl. Go that way. Go on. That’s where they found you.” When she hesitated he pushed her,, and she half turned and fell. Small rocks in the sand jammed into the heels of her hands.
Sonnie made it back to her feet, only to have Romano shove her again, knock her down again. “You’re almost there,” he said, waiting over her. “This is a place of memories for you. Here you will remember it all and then we can help you.”
If she attempted to get up, he’d only hit her again. She stayed where she was.
“Up you come,” Romano said, his tone easy and pleasant. He grabbed her by the neck of her shirt, hauled her up, and threw her.
Sonnie landed so hard her teeth rammed together. Every bone and muscle hurt. “You’re going to kill me,” she said. “Do it. Do it now. I don’t care anymore.”
“Oh, no, sweet one. I love you as a sister, remember? Whatever I do is for your sake. I want to help you. Tell me what you remember.” Looming over her, his face lost its artificial calm. “You are where you were found that night. You were unconscious. But you weren’t unconscious when you saw that wall grow closer, were you? Tonight you knew again the terror you’d felt then. You were supposed to die. The Fates intended it. They must have. But you didn’t because you didn’t buckle your belt.”
“I undid it.”
He straightened and stared down at her, his face a mask of hatred. “Did you?”
She couldn’t close her mouth. Her eyes stretched so wide they ached.
“You undid your belt. Well, well, so you do remember something. Why did you undo the belt?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember.”
He kicked her knee. “Why? I don’t believe you can’t remember. You’re pretending so you can protect yourself.”
“No. I don’t remember. All I know is my hand went to the belt. Perhaps because I feared for my baby. Don’t do this. Let me go.”
“But you couldn’t try to stop the car? Wouldn’t that be the first thing to do before you killed my little niece?”
“Stop.” Almost no sound came with the word. “Stop it. You don’t know what happened. My darling, my baby—stop it.”
“You stop me. How would you do that?” He caught up a handful of rough coral sand and threw it into her face. “Did you lose consciousness before you were thrown, perhaps?”
Sonnie brushed at the sand, scratching her skin as she did so. “I don’t know.”