Listed: Volume I (11 page)

.*
* *

It ended up being quite
simple.

Had
Emily been trying to get
in
to the apartment, she had to admit she
wouldn’t have been able to do it. But she wanted to get
out
, and she’d
always been good at getting things done.

She
put on the one swimsuit she had with her—a red tankini—and then she pulled a short,
red knit dress over it for a cover-up and slid on a pair of sandals.

She
thought about bringing a bag with a change of clothes and some other supplies
that could come in handy, but the bodyguard might think it was strange if she’d
carried a bag. So she just put her phone, some cash, and her list in a pocket
of her dress, found a big towel in the linen closet, and walked casually out
the front door of the apartment.

Tim
was still in the hall when she emerged.

“Paul
said it was okay for me to go down to the pool to do laps,” she said with a
smile, when he immediately straightened up at her presence.

“Of
course, Mrs. Marino,” Tim said. “He already let me know you were going. Mark is
waiting downstairs. Just take the elevator down to the pool level.”

“Thanks.”

She
gave him a bright smile and felt a little guilty when he smiled back, looking
like he appreciated her friendliness.

She
wasn’t really being friendly.

There
was a private elevator that went up to the penthouse apartment. It seemed a
ridiculous indulgence to Emily, but it did make security simpler. She descended
to the pool level and stepped off to see another bodyguard, evidently named
Mark, waiting for her.

She
gave him a breezy greeting. The indoor pool serviced the entire building, but
there was no one else here tonight.

She’d
explored the whole building the other day, so she’d known what to expect from
the pool deck. And all the adjoining rooms.

She
spread her towel out on a chaise and stalled a little, pretending to take off
her sandals. To make it look convincing, she should probably dive into the pool
and do some laps.

But
she didn’t want to make a trek out of the city in a wet swimsuit and with wet
hair.

So
she fiddled around a little and then looked over at Mark sheepishly. “Is there
a convenient bathroom? I should have gone before I came down.”

“Sure.
Just there.” He gestured toward a door across the pool from where she sat.

She
rebuckled her sandals and then got up and walked around the pool to the women’s
room. Mark came with her, which wasn’t surprising, but she was pretty sure he
wasn’t going to follow her inside.

She’d
noticed the bathroom when she’d been looking around the building before.

This
door led from the pool deck, but there was another door to the restroom into a
hallway.

She
immediately walked through the bathroom and out the other door, knowing she
wouldn’t have much time before Mark caught on.

It
was a back hallway that led from the lobby to the housekeeping areas, but there
was also a nearby door that led down to the building’s main parking deck.

She
ducked into the stairwell and flew down the stairs.

The
parking deck was filled with expensive cars, but it was used by the general
population of the building, and the stairs and elevators didn’t access the Paul’s
apartment, so there was only minimal security.

She
walked around against the wall toward the garage exit. There was one security
guard. He was employed by the building’s homeowners association—not the
security firm Paul used—so he wasn’t as experienced or professional.

It
was probably a fairly boring job, hanging out all night with the cars and
checking out anyone who drove in. The young man was leaning back in his chair
and watching a game on a small television.

He
didn’t see Emily, even when she edged over near the big garage door. He would
be conditioned to listen for cars coming in or out—not for a lone woman
sneaking out of the building.

Emily
had to wait a few minutes, but eventually one of the building’s tenants
returned from an evening out.

When
the car drove in, she ducked out.

As
she walked quickly down the sidewalk, away from the building, she wanted to hug
herself with pure excitement.

She
was flushed and breathless from the adrenalin generated by her escape, but she
also felt victorious—almost exhilarated—from managing to get out of the
building undetected.

Now
she just needed to find a cab.

It
wasn’t even nine yet, so the streets were still crowded. The first couple of
cabs she gestured for didn’t stop, but finally one pulled over.

She
was about to get in when she felt a strong hand on her arm, swinging her around
to face a very unhappy Paul.

“What
the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, waving for the cab to drive
on and then glaring down at her with eyes like hard steel.

Emily
blinked up at him. Her blood throbbed in her veins, from her earlier excitement
paired with the jolt of shock at being stopped so abruptly. For some reason,
Paul’s language had startled her too. While he obviously wasn’t any sort of
prude, she’d never heard him use the word “fuck” before.

She
opened her mouth, but any words she might have said stuck in her throat.

“Are
you insane?” he rasped, his voice thick with anger and a muscle twitching
visibly in his jaw. “Do you
want
to get killed?”

“How
did you catch me?” While the question was hardly the most relevant issue, it
was the only thing she could think of to say. She was shaking a little, from
adrenalin or shock or something else.

“There
are cameras in that parking deck. When Mark realized you’d snuck away, we
immediately did a search. Now tell me where the hell you were going!” He was
still holding her upper arm in a tight grip, and now he grabbed her other arm
as well. He seemed to be shuddering with barely suppressed rage.

Her
first instinct was to be intimidated by his strength and his fierce
indignation.  That instinct was immediately followed by absolute outrage,
though—not just that he would grab her the way he had but also that he could
make her feel so intimidated.

Her
teeth almost snapped as she processed a hot flash of responding anger. “I was
going to do something on my list. I told you I wanted to do it alone.”

“And
I told you that wasn’t an option.” His fingers tightened on her arms until it
almost hurt, and he dragged her a little closer to him. “What the hell has
gotten into you?”

“It’s
not your choice to make,” she burst out, struggling to pull out of his grip.
“What I do is none of your business!”

Paul
seemed to realize he was holding her too tightly, and his fingers loosened on
her arms. He also managed to moderate his voice. If anything, though, his eyes
were even fiercer when he gritted out, “Yes, it is my business. You’re going to
have to accept that. You can leave me and leave this marriage any time you
want. But if you don’t, then you’re my responsibility.”

She
started to object, instinctively resisting that idea.

“You
are
my responsibility,” he insisted, staring down at her with such
intensity it was like he could somehow see her soul. “Emily, you’re my wife.
And, whatever the reasons we got married, that makes you my responsibility.”

Emily
stared up at him, trying to process what he was saying. How she felt about it.

“Excuse
me, miss.” The voice came from behind her. She turned to see a young man
approaching. He looked young—in his twenties—and he was glaring at Paul
suspiciously. “Are you all right? Do you need any help?”

She
suddenly realized they were having a very private argument in the middle of a
public sidewalk. Flustered, she pulled herself out of Paul’s now loose grip.
“Yes. He’s my husband. Just a squabble. Thanks, though.”

The
man gave Paul a couple more dubious looks as he walked away.

Paul
had initially flashed the man an exasperated glance, but he could hardly be
angry at a man who’d been willing to intercede when it looked like a woman
needed help. “Let’s go inside,” he said, taking her arm gently and starting to
walk back toward their building.

This
time, Emily didn’t resist.

Completely
distracted, she kept looking down at the rings on her hand—the platinum wedding
band and the gorgeous antique engagement ring. She was married to Paul—
married
to him. And she was suddenly hit with the overwhelming realization that it
meant more than having a lovely, storybook wedding and living in the same apartment.

They
weren’t in love, but he was still her husband. That evidently meant something
to Paul. And it should to her too.

Marriage
didn’t just mean getting her rings. It meant being tied to this man by mutual
bonds of trust and responsibility.

It
meant she would never be perfectly free.

“Emily,
are you all right?” Paul asked, stopping on the sidewalk just in front of their
building.

Emily
realized she’d been breathing hard, almost gasping, as she stared down at her
rings and tried to come to terms with this relationship.

Taking
a deep breath, she nodded and looked up at him. She made herself say, “I’m
sorry. You’re right. I shouldn’t have…I’m sorry.”

Paul
blinked. “You are?”

She
gave a nervous giggle at his obvious astonishment. “Do you really think I’m so dense
that I can’t acknowledge a reasonable point?”

“What
convinced you?” he asked, little lines appearing on his forehead. He looked
off-stride and just faintly suspicious.

So
she told him the truth. “I know I’m being difficult. And I know it’s not fair
for me to make things so hard for you when you’re just trying to help. It’s
just…” She looked away from him and swallowed hard. “It’s just that everything
has changed for me. Nothing is the same. And I just wanted to hold on to
something
,
at least for a little while.”

Her
throat felt like it was closing up, and her eyes started to burn, but she
managed to finish, “I shouldn’t have tried to sneak out, since I don’t want to
leave you. I just wanted…I just want to be
me
, for as long as I can.”

She
hadn’t really meant to spill so much, and she felt horribly self-conscious
after she realized what she’d said. She couldn’t look Paul in the eye, but she
darted a quick glance up to his face.

He
stared at her—not intense or emotional but deeply focused.

After
a long, tense silence, he asked, “What were you planning to do tonight?”

Emily
lowered her eyes. “I was going to go Lake Collins,” she murmured, referring to
a recreational lake not far outside of the city, “To go skinny-dipping. I
figured I’d take a cab to a gas station nearby and then walk the rest of the
way, since I wouldn’t want a cab driver sitting waiting while I went for a
swim.”

Paul
was silent for longer than she expected. Then he said, “You can’t go by
yourself. I’m sorry. I know you think I’m being paranoid, but I’m absolutely
convinced my father is a danger to you, and it’s just too much of a risk. I
realize it’s not the same, but what if you and I went out there now, tonight?”

She
looked up at him in surprise. “Having all the security around might take some
of the thrill out of it, but it’s better than noth—”

“I
mean just you and me. I can drive us there.”

Her
eyes widened as she gazed up at his impassive face, catching just a tiny hint
of uncertainty in his expression. A pressure of emotion tightened in her chest.
“Really? That would be okay?”

He
nodded.  There was pity in his eyes—she could see it there—but there was also
something that looked like understanding. “I think so. Would that feel enough
like
you
?”

She
beamed up at him with a wobbly smile. “Yes. I think so. Thank you.”

*
* *

They took Paul’s black
Porsche, and Emily felt a silly thrill every time someone glanced over to see
who was riding in the ludicrously expensive car.

Now
that she’d resolved things with Paul and with herself, Emily's excitement about
the evening’s activities returned in full force. She pushed all heavy thoughts
out of her mind and allowed herself to enjoy it.

Once
they got out of the downtown area, Paul picked up his speed. He let her choose
their music on his sophisticated satellite radio, and she turned the volume up
loud.

She
had a really good time—speeding through the mostly empty roads at night and
singing loudly to all the songs she knew, even the cheesy ones.

Before,
she might have been self-conscious about being so uninhibited with Paul, since
he might think she was foolish or childish. She just didn’t care as much about
that now, though. Knowing you were going to die changed your perspective. Paul
smiled over at her sometimes, so she didn’t think he thought she was too silly.