Paradise: The Masters of The Order Novel Two (20 page)

The dream. Again. Ever since he’d spoken to Isla, the bitch had gotten into his head and wouldn’t let go. He was playing a concert, rocking out before a few hundred bodies, but instead of the stench of alcohol, sweat and weed, he smelled the disgusting reek of carnations. He’d only smelled that smell once before. At nineteen. Standing next to the body of his dead
abuelo
. The cloying smell of hundreds of carnations from the sprays surrounding the casket invaded every pore. He ran from the room and puked in the bushes.

That smell, that putrid smell, was the smell of the dead.

He rolled his legs over the side of the bed and ran his hands over his face trying to even his breathing.

“That must have been some dream, lover. I’ve got something that will calm you down.” His lover fished through the drawer in the night table and tossed a baggie across the bed. “Help yourself.”

Teo recognized every pill beneath the plastic. Knew exactly what each one would do. He’d been drug free for three years, one month and seventeen days. You’d think by now, this shit would be easier, but handing back that little bag was like hurling a shot put. He usually got himself out of this type of situation by picturing Isla’s face, but the vision of her in his mind now froze his fingers.

The dream. It was about Isla.

The smell, an omen of her death.

*****

Sancta Maria
. Isabella unzipped her sundress.

Ora pro nobis
. Set her shoes together next to the bed.

Sancta Dei Génetrix
. Pulled the elastic tie from her hair.

Ora pro nobis
. Placed the cross around her neck into a jewelry pouch.

Sancta Virgo virginum
. Removing anything personal. Anything that distinguished her.

Ora pro nobis
. Becoming anonymous, one more in a long line that occupied this room.

A litany of patients. A litany of saints.

Pray for me
.

“Please let me call your family, Isla. They should be here with you.”

“I can’t do that to them, Craig,” she answered softly. She understood how much she was asking of her best friend, but she had to do it. She couldn’t hurt her family, couldn’t risk Teo’s sobriety and knew Craig would forgive her.

“You’re not doing anything to them, Isla, any more than you’re doing something to me. They love you like I do. Hell, probably more.”

“You promised.” Her eyes met his and she watched all of his arguments float away like petals to the wind.

Craig understood. Craig always understood.

He picked up her dress and shoes with a sigh, set them in her overnight bag and took a brush to her hair. “Alright, angel. It’s just you and me.” Then he looked over her shoulder with a smile. “When we get out of here, you owe me thirty backrubs, seven quarts of double fudge ice cream and more red wine than you can afford.”

“You got it. Love you, Craig.”

“Love you too, Isla.”

He brushed her hair in silence while they waited for the doctor to arrive.

*****

“Leave a message…”

Friday

“Baby girl, it’s your favorite brother. Hey, I’m sorry about our last call. What can I say? I’m an asshole. Hit me back when you get home.” Teo.

“Good afternoon, sir. If you would please call me. There are a few matters that require your attention. Thank you.” Patricia.

“Cousin, I hope the fact that I haven’t heard from you means you’re smothered in a sexy Spanish seductress. Call when you come up for air.” Nicolai.

“Yee Haw! Jacques, we won. Kicked that fat bastard right out of court. Judge even fined him for misuse of a restraining order. Construction resumes Monday. Sorry about busting up your fun with Isabella, stellar girl by the way, but you’ll have to be in New Mexico on Wednesday. Kotani’s bringing some potential new backers for a little look-see. Koreans this time. And there’s another thing I want to tell you, but it will wait until I catch you live. Signing off.” Sabin.

“Jerard, it’s Isla. I’m back in Paris. Listen, I don’t know what’s happening with you right now, but I meant what I said about being there for you. You won’t be able to reach me for a while, but if you need anything my brother Teo will help. He will understand. Just tell him you’re my friend. I texted his phone number. Remember the angels, Jerard.” Isabella.

“Teo, I’m sorry I haven’t called. Everything is fine, but I’m going to be away for a while longer. I can’t explain,
hermano.
You just have to trust me. I will call when I can.
Te amo
.” Isabella.

“Isabella, I, I…apologize.” Jacques.

Saturday

“I apologize for the call, sir. I understand you are very busy, but if you wouldn’t mind, I need a few moments.” Patricia.

“I know you’re mad, but seriously, calling when you know I’m on stage. Nice try,
hermana mía
. Call me back.” Teo.

“Don’t get mad, but Julianne wants to meet Isabella. I promised we’d have dinner when you get back. If you’ve got a different plan, good luck with it. Not sure whether I’ve created a masterpiece or a monster. Let me know when and say hello to Isabella.” Nicolai.

“Isabella, if we could talk, I would be grateful.” Jacques.

“I’m gonna assume Isabella is still there and that’s why I haven’t heard hide nor hair from you, partner. Wednesday, no excuses.” Sabin.

“……” Jerard.

Sunday

“She left me, Nico. I don’t know what to do. My God, she left me.” Jacques.

“Jacques, where are you? Call me back. Right now.” Nicolai.

“This isn’t funny, Isabella. Look, I have to talk to you. Call me.” Teo.

“Craig, it’s Teo. I got a strange message from Isla and, well, is everything alright? I’m going crazy man, hit me back and tell me she’s alright.” Teo.

“Do you ever answer the damn phone, cousin? Call me back in the next hour or I’m on the next plane to Monaco.” Nicolai.

“Jesus, brother, I just got off the phone with Nico. Are you sure she’s gone? I mean gone, gone. Come to the ranch. We’ll figure it out. Any word from Jerard?” Sabin.

“Teo said he hasn’t heard from you for over a week and I know he’s hiding something. Call me, little sister.” Joaquim.

“Isabella, I know I hurt you. I don’t have any excuses for what I did. I will never forgive myself, but please, if you can find it in your heart, please just let me hear your voice.” Jacques.

Monday

“Damn it, Jacques. We’re worried sick. Call. Right now or I’m gonna get on a plane just so I can kick your ass. By the way, I sent a private dick to search for Jerard. Nothing yet.” Sabin.

“Call me, Isabella. Today!” Joaquim.

“Isla, I know you don’t want to talk to me, but please,
hermana
. I know something’s wrong, I’ve felt it for a few weeks. I need you,
hermana
. I can’t go on like this. Please come back to me. I’m lost without you.” Teo.

“Um, sir, um, I apologize for calling again. This is Patricia. From your office. If you wouldn’t mind sparing a few minutes, things are a little problematic here and I need your attention. Um, just for a few minutes, sir. Please.” Patricia.

“Plane just landed. Be there in an hour.” Nicolai.

“Isabella, I’ve been up all night thinking about us, you. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but at least tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s wrong. I may be an ignoramus, but I figured that much out. You were trying to escape something, not just your job. You said it wasn’t me, it was you. What about you? What’s going on? Please, Isabella, let me help you. Let me in some small way make up for what I’ve done to you.” Jacques.

“Teo, this is Craig. Your sister is going to murder me for this, but what she wants is wrong. It’s just wrong and I can’t deny it anymore. It’s Isla, Teo, and it’s bad.” Craig.

15

Trying to Live

“When will she wake up?”

Another set of fingers lifted Isla’s wrist, another entry was jotted on a chart before Teo got another non-answer. “Soon,
monsieur
. The medications that have kept like this take time to wear away. When they do, she will open her eyes.”

Teo couldn’t bear another second without Isla’s eyes. He’d spent ten days in this room staring at his sister’s prone body, the tubes cutting into her arms, the taped monitors marring her skin. He didn’t want her to have to listen to the soulless blips and beeps from the machines surrounding her so he played his guitar. When his fingers were bleeding too much for him to continue, he sang into her ear.

When the nurse left them alone, he leaned close to press a kiss on Isla’s cheek and whispered, “Come back,
hermana mía
. It’s time for you to come back. I can’t live without you.”

“Any change?” Craig asked as he entered the hospital room.

Teo blinked back the tears as he turned. “No.”

A hand pressed on his shoulder. “Dr. Boucher said we have to have hope. She’s going to be alright, Teo. I believe that. You should too.”

He didn’t have faith. He found no comfort in Craig’s platitudes, but he was grateful that his sister had such a dear friend and he said so.

“Teo?”

Watery eyes shot to Isla’s face and he watched through the blur of insuppressible tears as hers opened. Urgent arms locked on, clutching her tight to his chest. A little moan made him ease off. He settled her back against the mattress with shaking hands.

“I’m here,
hermana
. I’m here.” A rush of emotion washed through him. Anger. Worry. Guilt. Gratitude. His head fell onto her torso as the dam burst.

“Craig, you called him.”

Isla’s voice broke through the tears. He wanted to tell her not to be angry, that Craig had done the right thing, but the words were trapped beneath the deluge.

Then, like the chime of a little bell, she added, “I guess I’ve got to kick that cute ass.”

“It’s all part of my evil plan to get you out of that bed, Isla.” Craig answered through the nervous laughter of his relief. “Come and get me, baby”

“I’ll give you a minute to run.” The voice was weak, but there was a giggle in it.

Teo pictured his sister chasing Craig, ready to kick his ass. He’d been there a few times himself. He was still crying all over the sheet like an idiot, but now he was a smiling idiot.

His baby sister was back.

*****

“I’ve never seen him like this, Sabin. I’m worried sick.” Nicolai slumped in the chair. Not exactly the guy’s normal. Nicolai Stavros was gentility on feet.

“Jacques is a tough nut, Nico, but I’ve got to admit, I’m worried too,” Sabin said, hoping Nicolai wouldn’t ask why he was sitting behind Jacques’s desk while they had this little chit chat about the man whose office they were in. “Jacques is a tenacious guy, but eventually the thrill of the chase will fade and he’ll move on.”

Nicolai looked up as if Sabin had sprouted a second head. “I know my cousin. He won’t move on. No matter how many doors she slams in his face, he’ll never give up. He really loves this woman.”

“I get it. Isabella is a fine lady, but he doesn’t really know her.”

“I said the same thing and he gave me a one word answer.”

“Couldn’t be ‘fuck off,’ that’s two words. What'd he say?”

“Destiny. Jacques thinks Isabella Rey is his destiny, the woman he’s been searching for his whole life.”

“No shit.”

“How can a woman have a man love her like that and not love him back?” Nicolai said, clearly bemused.

“Too easily, my friend.”

Nicolai was a closet romantic, apparently like his cousin, but the one time in his life when he unlocked that door, he’d found his happily-ever-after. Not everyone was so lucky, but Sabin kept that thought to himself.

“This is bad, Nico, really bad.”

In truth, the man in front of him didn’t even know how bad things had gotten. Nico thought Jacques had disappeared because he’d thrown himself into work. If only. Sabin had been running Meszaros Enterprises for the past month.

It started with him looking after their joint venture in New Mexico and took off from there. Jesus, he was convinced Jacques was part superman. How the hell did he oversee this empire day in and day out? Talk about leaping tall buildings. And the charitable stuff on top of everything else. Sabin was tempted to add “part savior” to his description, but it was Jacques he was thinking about. He was exhausted, but there would be no letting his brother down.

Sabin rubbed his fingers across his aching eyes. “There’s something you don’t know, Nico, and it’s time you do.” He heard Nicolai shift in his seat. “It’s about Jerard. He’s got a problem.”

“Guy’s got a lot of problems,” Nicolai muttered, making no attempt to hide his contempt for his lover’s best friend.

“He’s addicted to smack.”

“What? No way. Julianne would know. She loves…” the words trailed away and guilt crept across Nicolai’s face. He hadn’t made it easy for Julianne to see Jerard. “How long?”

“Not sure, but Jerard disappeared while Isabella was in Monaco with Jacques. We’ve been searching for him. Nothing yet. I think you should tell Julianne. Prepare her for the worst.”

“Christ, Sabin. I know Jerard and I don’t like each other, but heroin. He’s too damn talented to be messing with that shit. I mean gifted in a way I’ve never seen before. Jacques must be devastated. Jerard leaves, then Isabella. Oh, hell, I left him first. How much can one man take before he breaks?”

“No more, Nico. I can’t take anymore.”

Jacques’s haggard figure appeared from out of nowhere. He looked broken. Wild eyes, mussed hair, disheveled clothes, but the thing that scared Sabin more than anything were the tears. He’d never seen Jacques Meszaros cry and he felt like an ass for thinking the man was immune from that basic human emotion. Nothing like allowing yourself to see only what someone puts out on the surface.

Nicolai shot to his feet and grabbed his cousin as Jacques collapsed into his arms, the sound of his anguish muffled against the lapel of Nicolai’s designer suit.

Sabin stared at the two men, contemplating whether to tell Jacques what his PI discovered about why Jacques’s pretty lady was slamming all those doors, but he remained silent. It was bad enough Jacques had to suffer through losing Isabella once.

He shouldn’t have to suffer through losing her twice.

*****

“How are you feeling?”

Isabella sat up on the bed. Despite a small ache in her head, she felt alright. At least physically. Today they were releasing her from the hospital and letting her breathe fresh air again.

Scared, heart-broken
. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Boucher assessed her with clinical eyes. “Chin up, Isabella. I’m pleased with our results and you should be too. I will prescribe medication to ease the headaches. If you experience any change in the pain level, let me know right away. Otherwise I don’t have to see you again for two weeks.”

So that's it? I'm supposed to go back to normal life with a few words and a prescription?

That seemed impossible. How do you live again after being unconscious for two weeks? Locked in a hospital for two more? How do you fight the fear that the silent killer won’t return and end your life?

Isabella wanted to be strong, have courage, but the future terrified her. She didn’t know how to go forward. She turned to the man to whom she’d entrusted her life and asked, “What am I supposed to do now?”

Her champion took her by the hand. “Live, Isabella.” With a pat on the knee and a small smile, he left.

Alone with nothing but the future, her mind drifted back in time and she heard Jacques’s voice.
You’re a strong woman, Isabella Rey
. She didn't feel strong at the moment, but for Jacques, she would try to be strong. Strong enough to put her feet on that floor and take the first step. And strong enough to deny her broken heart to protect the heart of the man whose voice gave her the strength to do it.

*****

Jerard dropped the needle into the toilet. Despite the piss and rust, he fought the disgusting urge to dive in after it. Clenching his fists, he cursed before slamming down the handle.

“Fuck it. No more.”

*****

Isabella plunked the last grocery bag onto the counter and yanked the phone from her purse. She hated this chore. Even cancer couldn’t make a person grateful to have to grocery shop.

Unknown caller
. “Hello.” She pulled out a carton of eggs and smiled. Well maybe it could.

“Am I speaking to Isabella Rey?” The voice was rushed, nervous.

“Yes. Who’s calling?”

“Isabella, I don’t know if you remember me, but this is Julianne Giroux.”

A shot of fear hit her as her eyes darted around the apartment at the scores of yellow roses. One phone call each morning, one rose each evening. Both with the same message, “I love you and I’m sorry.”

Has something happened to Jacques?
“Of course, Julianne. Is something wrong?” she asked in her clinical voice.

“It’s Jerard,” Julianne choked out. “He’s sick, Isabella. He won’t let me call anyone else. He insisted. Only you. We’re at Nicolai’s gallery. Can you come here? Can you come right now, please?”

She grabbed her coat and was heading to the door as she answered, “On my way, Julianne. Tell him to hold on. I’m on my way.”

Teo was already at the gallery when Isabella arrived. God, she loved her brother. No questions. No judgments. He was just there for her whenever she needed him. He was there when she woke up in the hospital. He was there when she cried and confessed her pain at the end of her affair with Jacques. Hell, he’d been there for her entire life. She shouldn’t have shut him out. Shouldn’t have lied to him. So she apologized and told him everything. Well, almost everything. She told him most of what happened with Jacques and confessed her fears about trying to live as a cancer survivor. The love and support he offered in exchange humbled her.

She shrugged off her regret and put her trust in her brother once again. “Where are we?”

“Full-on detox. He’s in bad shape. We should call an ambulance, but you know how this goes.”

She did. It was hard enough for Jerard to trust enough to reach out for help. If he didn’t want a hospital, he wouldn’t stay. Forcing him would achieve nothing. Maintaining his trust was their only hope.

“I called Shea. He’s bringing the meds. You go. I’ll wait here. Send Julianne up. She can get the rest of what we need.”

Isabella didn’t answer as she hurried to the stairs. So much had changed since the last time she’d been in this gallery. She remembered that night. The night that changed her life. The man who changed her life.

The studio was dark. A single lamp burned in the corner throwing off just enough light for her to see Jerard’s sweaty back. He was curled into the fetal position on the floor in the far corner. Julianne knelt next to him, eyes panicked.

“I turned off the lights. He said the light was hurting his eyes so I, I…turned off the light.”

“It’s alright, Julianne. Go upstairs now,” Isabella said, putting a gentle command in her voice. “Teo will tell you what to do.”

Julianne nodded mechanically and reached for Isabella’s hand. “I love him, Isabella. Please don’t let anything happen to him.”

Jerard groaned and rolled over. “Isla.” Her name came from his dry lips in a warbled croak.

She went to her knees at his side. “I’m here, baby, and I’m going to take care of you. You’re going to be alright. I’m here.”

Clouded eyes met hers, the trust and relief in them brilliantly clear. “It hurts, Isla. God, it hurts.”

She wrapped her arms around his trembling body. “I know, baby. I know.”

*****

“Can’t you drive faster?” Jacques snapped at his driver.
Goddamn traffic
.

Julianne’s text didn’t say much, but his gut told him he wouldn’t be walking into anything good.

“Stop.” He opened the door.

The driver hit the brakes. Jacques hit the partition.

“What are you doing,
monsieur
?” he called as Jacques jumped out and began jogging the three blocks to Nicolai’s place. As soon as he turned the corner, Julianne rushed out of the gallery door and sprinted into his arms.

“He’s sick, Jacques. He won’t tell me what it is, but he’s sick.” She started sobbing against his chest.

As he wrapped his arms around her, he didn’t even have to ask.
Holy hell, did Jerard OD?
“Where is he, kitten?”

“I found him on the floor of the studio when I got here this morning. I wanted to call Nicolai, but he said no. He tried to leave and collapsed. He said Isabella. Only Isabella.”

Jacques’s heart stopped beating in his chest. “She’s here?”
Isabella is in the gallery?

He hadn’t seen her in three months and it felt like three decades. His life was a train wreck without her. After countless unreturned phone calls, he’d almost abandoned hope, but now, out of the clear blue, he was about to see her again.