Surrender Your Heart (11 page)

I have to try
this—there’s no other way. I climb out on the sill, still holding on to the
window frame. Okay, it’s not that high, but I don’t want to make the jump
anyway. Excuse me if I have trust issues…oh no, not now, I’m not going to cry
again. Against all odds, I make it to the balcony—what now?—when a car pulls up
in front of the house. I shrink back against the wall, cowering in the corner
to not be seen by the two men exiting the car.

A cold shiver
skitters down my spine when I recognize one of them. Immediately I know I have
to get away, no doubt, or I might never make it home. He’s the man in the black
and white picture, the alleged trafficker.

McKinley showed
me ID, but let’s be honest, how would I’ve been able to verify its
authenticity? It looked real. Whether or not it was, it’s clear all of a sudden
who the bad guys are. I hear them talking, walking up the stairs.

I have no
choice. I swing my legs over the railing, stand on the small ledge and hope for
the best.

Ow, ow, ow
! I bite my lip not to cry out when I land on the pavement, my eyes
watering. I carefully stretch my legs and get to my feet, my stomach churning
at the sight of blood trailing down my leg. Nothing broken though, just scraped
skin, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to walk—run—which I have to. I have no idea
where I am as I stumble along, motivated by the angry voices I can hear from
the second floor. I can only hope this road will bring me somewhere closer to
safety.

I can’t believe
how naïve I’ve been. I should have trusted my gut. For once, it would have been
smart to trust.

They will come
after me, I know, because now I can ID them. Is Marlene really in on the scheme?
I doubt it. If only I can get back to the house and we can call Carter...At the
end of the road starts a more industrial area, with warehouses and factories.
This must be closer to the harbor, right? The slope of the street doesn’t allow
me to see far, but at least, the men coming after me can’t see me either.

The bad news…all
of these doors are locked, there is literally nowhere and no one who can help
me. There’s light in some of the factory buildings. I find a door with a sign
that probably reads “staff only” in a language unknown to me…but it could also
mean “danger”. Damn. There’s the sound of a car, tires screeching. Is it them?

What a stupid
question, who else would it be? When I hear footsteps, I dash to the other side
of the building and cower behind a dumpster. I don’t like myself very much at
the moment—it doesn’t matter. I have to do what I can to get out of this alive.
I duck, trying to ignore the dirt and smell and to evade the headlights coming
in my direction.

What did I do?

This kind of
people won’t simply give up, will they? Obviously, they had plans with me. I realize
I’m shaking, hard, and it’s definitely not from the temperature.

Another stream
of light.

It’s from a
flashlight.

“Ms. Elliot?”
McKinley’s voice is dangerously close. “Come on, don’t be silly. You know we’re
going to find you.”

Not if I have
anything to say about it…

I stick close to
the wall, slowly making my way further away from the dumpster and to the corner
of the building. If I can just get around, and away…to where? As far away as
possible from McKinley and his associate, that’s where. I realize my
calculations were all wrong when I turn around and find myself face to face
with the man I was so cleverly trying to get away from.

This time, he
has the gun trained on me. Shit. The other man is nowhere to be seen.

“Come over here,
Penny,” McKinley says. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I would, but my
legs don’t obey.

“Don’t be
stupid!” he yells. “Maybe I’ll find you’re not worth all this trouble after
all.”

He raises his
hand, and then a shot rings out at the same time I’m dropping to the floor,
hands over my head.

“Who’s stupid
now?”

I can’t believe
my ears, it must be a hallucination, but when I slowly lift my head, my vision
supports that hallucination. It’s Carter, standing over McKinley who clutches
his side, shouting obscenities at her. I can see blood seeping through his
fingers. I have no idea what to make of any of this.

“Come on, we
need to go. The police will be here soon.” She reaches out to help me get up
and I’m standing in front of her, scraped knees bleeding, the clothes that she
bought for me torn and dirty. The guilt comes crashing down on me, and what’s more,
I feel incredibly foolish.

Carter’s gaze on
me is devoid of the same judgment, but we will have to have that conversation
soon, I assume. There are sirens in the distance.

“There’s no time
for this,” she says, and when I still don’t react, she grabs my hand tightly
and drags me with her. I still hurt, but getting away from McKinley and the
other guy, and, yes, the local police, is a big motivator—to go home. I might
be out of my mind, fear, pain, not knowing what the next moment will bring.

On the bright
side—and I’m in desperate need of one—Carter seems to know the way. I stare in
disbelief when she unlocks the passenger side of the beaten down Dodge.

“That is…”

“The vehicle I
use for situations exactly like this. I wouldn’t want to bring any of my other
cars into the neighborhood.” She pauses for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s
absolutely reliable. Now let’s get out of here.”

I still can’t
believe she’s really here, a beautiful vision in her black top, leather jacket
and jeans. My self-reproach increases tenfold when it comes to mind that I not
only risked my life, but hers as well. That’s not the way to pay a person back.

“How did you…?”

“Nick had his
eyes on this guy from the beginning,” she says, keeping her eyes straight ahead
on the road. “When you were gone and our fake gardener nowhere to be found, he
assumed the worst. You scared me.”

I shiver at the
raw emotion in her voice. Raw. I can relate. “I’m so sorry.” I really am.
First, I get myself into this trouble and she has to save me like I’m some
damsel in distress—so she owns a gun, after all—and now I disintegrate into a
bawling mess. Rarely have I disliked myself so much.

“It’ll be okay,” she says softly. “This guy isn’t as badly
hurt as he deserves to be, and the police will take care of him. Nick called
them. Now let’s get you cleaned up, drink some whiskey and then we’ll forget
about this.”

“Forget?” I wince at the high pitch of my voice. “Do you
know who these people are?”

A drop of cold sweat snakes down my spine
. I remember the picture, with Carter. “The gardener, he said his
name was McKinley, FBI, and the other one…”

“I know him.”
Carter’s voice is quiet, determined. “Believe me, I want nothing of his
business. I didn’t find out until later…Now that there were shots fired, the
local police will take care of it. Nick and I have been keeping tabs on him,
and working with the locals, but he’s clever. Associating himself with someone
who pretends to be FBI, that will hopefully help.”

I try to take in
all this information, make sense of it.

“There’s a lot
you haven’t told me.” I decide that sounds too much like sulking, and I hurry
to explain. “Not that you’re obliged to tell me any of this…I want you to know
I didn’t want to go with him, but he showed me that picture. He had a gun.”

She briefly
takes my hand, squeezes it gently. “I know. I promise it will be okay.”

Chapter Eleven

Carter

Who the hell am
I to make such a promise? Nothing is even remotely okay, not yet, and the list
of problems has just grown. I can still feel the sensation of my stomach
lurching when Nick told me what happened. Ever since, I’ve been scolding myself
for not listening to him earlier, but I won’t dwell now that I have Penelope
back with me, safe and mostly sound.

What more can I
ask for, really?

I’ll have to
hope that the police won’t look too closely at a crook getting shot in a
dubious neighborhood, and that they will finally get to Laydon, the man who
once tried to get me to invest in the movie industry—educational movies. In the
aftermath of that meeting, Colette was able to make a few arrests, but it
wasn’t enough to get to him. As if I don’t have enough on my plate…

Next to me,
Penelope is silent, curled up in the passenger seat as we near the property.
There’s a lot I could tell her, but I’m not sure if any of it would make her
feel better. I think for now, it’s better to stay with the narrative, the
fantasy. Better for the two of us.

Once we’re back
home, I make her wait for me in the master bathroom as I assemble bandages,
antibiotic cream and scissors. I shake my head to myself. I can’t believe she
jumped from that balcony! I know Penelope feels bad because she needed me to
help out, but she did a good job of getting away from her captors in the first
place.

What if…The
thought is chilling, and I don’t finish it all the way through. My fault I
didn’t know that one of my employees was associated with Laydon.

I don’t regret
shooting him, for what he did, and what he attempted to do.

Penelope sits in
the rattan chair, a resigned look on her face as if she has already accepted
the fact that this is going to hurt even more.

“I’ll be quick,”
I promise. “Remember. Whiskey.”

“I try,” she
says in a small voice. She bites her lip as I clean the wounds, nothing major,
but I’m sure it hurts. Her eyes well up.

“I’m sorry, baby.
Almost done.”

I’m ready to
give her a sponge bath as well, but she shakes her head, for the first time,
with the hint of a smile. “I can do it myself. Thanks.”

“Okay. I’ll get
you your PJs.”

I’m already at
the door when her voice holds me back.

“Carter?”

“Yes?”

“Can I sleep
with you tonight?”

I walk back to
her, lean in to carefully kiss her forehead. I can feel her trembling. “Of
course.”

My own hands are
unsteady too as I pick the shorts and top from one of the drawers. Most of the
time, I have things under control, even after Penelope arrived here, but today,
that control has been fragile at times.

I can’t wait to
finally get to the booze I promised us.

* * * *

Tonight, I take
her out on the terrace. I’m not worried that she could run away, after all,
where to? There’s nowhere to go, and the dangers on the outside should convince
a person to stay put. My face flushes hotly as I remember that the danger came
right here to my doorstep. Damn, I know Nick hires good people, but a man with
a gun still made it onto the premises and almost into my house. I’ll have to
call in a meeting and have a stern word with everyone. I don’t care what they
are used to where they come from—if they’re not working security, I won’t allow
any guns on employees. They’ll just have to deal with it.

Penelope and I
clink our glasses together and both drink deeply form our tumblers. She coughs a
little.

“Thank you,” she
says, making an all-encompassing gesture. “For everything.”

“You don’t need
to thank me. They broke into my house.”

“…and took
something that was yours?” she asks wryly.

Yes, exactly.

“I care about
you.”

She holds my
gaze for a long moment, before she says, “I know. It’s just…it’s been a damn
long day.”

“Believe me, I
know what you mean.”

“Yeah.” She
takes another sip, leaning back in her chair. “You saved my life today. I think
I’m going to need a moment.”

I get up to draw
her into my arms, to comfort her. “Don’t cry.”

“Why not?” she
sniffles. “
You
are crying.” The absurdity of the moment makes us both
crack up with laughter. Emotions will be running high for a bit—what else is
new? All I want is to hold her close, to assure myself that she’s okay, and I’m
this close to telling her the whole truth, but I step back from that ledge at
the last moment.

There’s so much
to be misinterpreted, to be misunderstood. She is the one, and I chose her.
That’s all that matters.

I refill our
glasses, thinking I should get in touch with Colette and get an impression of
what the situation is. If Penelope’s friends and family are panicking, I hope
Colette will be able to contain the fallout. We have more important things to
do here.

Sex is the furthest from our minds when we make it to the bedroom,
but it’s good to be close, skin to skin with only little fabric in between. Who
would have thought I was even capable of falling in love like that? It’s still
new, challenging, terrifying. I’m not sure I could handle it in a setting where
it was up to Penelope to decide if or when to leave. I don’t ever want to let
her go…and at the moment, I believe she doesn’t even mind.

* * * *

We have
breakfast on the terrace, the sun already high in the sky, another day in
paradise. It was tough, after joyous moments of waking up, to leave her, still
sleep-warm and deep in dreamland, but the show must go on. Work, checking on
the local police investigation, leaving a message for Colette—all of this is
done by the time Marlene has set the table outside and a sleepy Penelope
emerges from my master suite. She’s still in PJs, looking younger than her age.
She bears the marks of last night’s incident, a sight even more chilling in the
light of day.

“Good morning,”
I say. “You look like you’d appreciate a good strong coffee.”

As if on cue,
she yawns, chuckles. “I can’t deny that. Is it okay if I get dressed later?”

“Sure. Let’s
eat.” In an attempt to lighten the mood further, I add, “besides, I like the
sight.”

“I bet,” she
says, amused.

I direct my
attention from the neckline of her shirt to my plate. I asked Marlene for
full-on brunch. After yesterday, and skipping dinner in favor of dealing with
criminal assholes and getting drunk…Sometimes, a person’s got to eat. I wonder
how Penelope and I will settle into this changed reality, if we can quietly go
back to the way things were, the weekend on the yacht, and before. Maybe now
she’ll be able to slow down and have that time-out that is part of a carefully
crafted story. Well, maybe not carefully enough. I haven’t had time yet to deal
with the worried friends and family of Penelope. I had a couple of people on
that, and the initial contact went fine, according to reports, but something
must have changed. They were instructed to take cover in case someone might
question their stories too hard.

I should be
there now, but I don’t want to leave Penelope. If those people want to continue
to work for me, they’ll have to learn to take initiative.

We have about
five minutes of peace when the sound of rapid footsteps interrupts the leisurely
breakfast.

I am startled to
see Colette, Marlene on her heels. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Forbes. She said it
couldn’t wait.”

If yesterday
never happened, I’d say this is the worst case scenario. The security of this
place breached again—Marlene should know better than letting anyone in here
without asking first. I’m sure Colette can be convincing when she gets her
Special Agent on, but
she
should know better than to try this here, with
me.

She was never
meant to meet Penelope. I can see realization dawning on her face, and Penelope
has probably figured out who Colette is as well. My house of cards is about to
crumble.

“We need to
talk,” Colette says with a meaningful glance toward Penelope.

“I can tell it
must be important if you come all the way here.” I get to my feet, slowly, as
if this situation isn’t highly unsettling. “Let’s go inside.”

“Do you think
you’re going to need me for this?” Penelope asks, surprising me.

I shake my head.
“Take your time, I’ll be right back. I’m sure Ms. Grady didn’t mean to stay
long.”

Colette hasn’t
missed the jibe. She purses her lips in disapproval, but follows me inside the
house and into the den.

“Can I offer you
something?”

She slumps into
a couch, leaning forward to cover her face with her hands. “Oh God, Carter,
stop it. You can’t do this!”

“Do what?” It’s
only
10 a.m.
, but I kind of
feel like drinking again. Too many loose ends and wild cards.

“That’s Penny
Elliot—which doesn’t come as such a big surprise to me, but you should know
your fake gardener is trying to cut a deal. After all, that picture of you and
Laydon does exist—”

“I didn’t know!”

“I believe you.”

That’s a cold
comfort right now, but I’m not in the position to antagonize her too much, so I
sit down and wait for her to continue.

“He knows that
Penny is here. He will name names, and someone will connect the cases. If you
let her go with me now, we could figure out something—”

“No!” We both
flinch. I know it’s a risk, but the even greater risk lies in changing plans at
this point. We need more time. “I can’t do that.”

“Come on. We agree
that it’s important to bust Laydon. I don’t want you to become collateral
damage because you had to live out some rich girl fantasy. I will talk to her.
I’m sure you treated her well, and there’s still a chance we can make this go
away. If my colleagues find out…” She shrugs, leaving me to imagine the
possibilities, none of them good.

“You aren’t
going to tell them, are you?”

She fixes me
with an annoyed glare. “It’s only a matter of time, Carter! You’ve gone too
far! I know you like to bend the rules for the greater good, but this is
different. This is only for you, because you can’t possibly have anyone say no
to you.”

“Are you done?”
I ask, satisfied my voice sounds sufficiently icy. “She didn’t say no.”

“Penny Elliot
was kidnapped from her apartment, taken to a private jet and flown here. No,
I’m not done yet. Can’t you see that I’m trying hard to help you?”

“Penelope is my
guest. She’s taking a year off from school and work. She can call her parents
or friends anytime.”

Colette jumps to
her feet, her stance radiating frustration. Too bad I can’t help her.

“Somebody will
come here with a warrant, soon. I warned you.”

“I appreciate
that, but there’s nothing to worry about. I will, however, confer with my
attorney to be prepared for any possible…let’s say, missteps by the police. I
hope your colleagues will do the right thing and stay out of the way. I believe
you have some bad guys to catch, but if anyone wants to come harass me, I’m not
shying away from a long and messy lawsuit.”

I’m good at
this. I can see the hint of doubt in Colette’s expression, even if she and I
know that I’d be much better off avoiding said lawsuit. Messy is a euphemism.
Being accused of any wrongdoing would put douchebags like
Wellington
at too much of an advantage. I
can’t risk the integrity of my business, but I can’t risk Penelope either.

Colette squares
her shoulders. “I see this was pretty futile. I’ll have to lay low from now on,
so don’t expect to hear from me for a while. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Marlene
will see you out.”

Lost in thought,
I go back outside to join Penelope. To my dismay, I realize she barely touched
the food on her plate.

“Is that the
cop?” she asks.

“Don’t worry,
she’s still on our side.” It’s amazing how my side became ours. Encounters with
life-and-death situations and sleazes like Laydon easily make that happen.

“You keep
telling me not to worry, yet a lot is happening all of a sudden. Who are you?
What kind of businesswoman is involved in this kind of stuff?”

That’s a good
question. “Security will be tighter from now on. We usually run a background
check for new employees, but we’ll improve that too. I promise you, nothing is
going to happen to you again, while you’re in my house. I’m sorry,” I interrupt
my ramblings.

She goes back to
eating her breakfast. Fortunately, Marlene brought some fresh coffee in the
meantime.

* * * *

Marlene is
present at the meeting, almost in tears as she apologizes profusely. I’ve known
her and her husband for a long time. They’ve been working for me ever since I
bought this property. I know they are beyond reproach. Hanks, that’s the name
he gave to them, and on his résumé, had some friends in common. Apparently, he
knew about Marlene’s long-term employment with me, and he asked if we were
hiring, which, conveniently, we were at the time.