The Golden Chalice (2 page)

“Sir!” she called after him. The heels of the woman’s clogs clicked over the polished hospital flooring. She hurried behind. His stride and determination made the others in the hall step aside.

“Please, I-I have my orders to bring you to Dr. Stevenson when you arrived.”

Lee left the woman, with her pale blonde hair, deep-set chocolate eyes, and a penchant to annoy, flustered in his tailwind. No one gave him orders.

“Should I call security, Mrs. Jones?” he heard the receptionist ask behind him. He cast a parting glance over his shoulder. Another woman quickly hurried to the hospital administrator.

“No,” replied Mrs. Jones, who met Lee’s gaze with a disapproving scowl. “Let him go. He’ll just force his way past us, and Dr. Stevenson will allow it.”

Lee entered the elevator and waited for the doors to close. He set his mouth in a thin concentrated line, and his mind broadcasted a list of what-ifs.

What if I came too late
?

What if she made good on her promise and fled me
?

What if she blames me for the baby
?

What if I can never gain her trust, or even worse, love her again
?

And the what-ifs didn’t cease. Each question, each doubt, pulsated through his brain, sparking currents of dread and guilt, which repeatedly stabbed his heart. He rarely felt nervous. Now his palms sweated with evidence of it. He swallowed the uncertainty. He’d have his way. Make it happen. Of this he remained certain.

The elevator doors parted. Striding through the hall, Lee rounded the last corner and barely missed an old man slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and staring blankly. A hospital worker wheeled the man toward him. Lee avoided the man’s eyes. Flashes of his father’s last days surfaced in his mind. Quickly, he shut that mental door. He kept going. His hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his shoulders squared to mask his fears. He would show Michelle no weakness. She needed her man strong, not weak over losing her.

Two of his men greeted him. Actually, Lee had assigned six to her floor, on a constant rotation. He’d made a substantial donation the rehabilitation center to ensure his wishes were granted. His men were armed at all times.

Today he would bring her home. He knew she’d stalled his efforts for the past week. The excuses he’d heard from Stevenson and the staff were laughable. Michelle could be quite convincing and manipulative of others when it suited her. Dr. Stevenson even arranged for her to have a meeting with Cosmo behind his back. Of course he knew of it. Nothing happened with Michelle that he didn’t know. He granted the little act of rebellion. He knew she needed it. Lee remained cautious, though. Michelle plotted her escape, and he feared her strength and anger would make her desperate enough to take the risk. After all, she’d broken into the most impenetrable of vaults, how hard could it be to escape a hospital? Lee shook his head, saddened over his doubt of her love for him. He slowed his pace and signaled with his eyes for his men not to approach him. They looked on and held their position.

Suddenly, he didn’t have the burning urge to rush into her room. He wanted her to come home, but if he forced his will he could just alienate her more.

Paging Dr. Stevenson. Paging Dr. Stevenson
.

The invisible speaker system mounted along the hall echoed, hollow in his ears. Two months ago she’d been shot. The bullet almost stole her life, as it had their unborn child. Her placement for recovery had been a delicate matter, requiring top-notch secrecy. The police hunted for the thieves who’d broken into the Briscol Bank, even though they’d made away with nothing. No media outlet could report what Michelle had swiped. But in the underworld, everyone knew. She’d risked it all for him, and he’d failed her.

Lee wiped that same hand down his face before he looked up. The numbers, silver, stuck to the surface, read 1249. Twice in his life he’d felt fear. Once in his life, he’d felt pain. But nothing compared to what he felt over losing their child, and possibly losing
her
. This was the emotion he would share with her, the truth of his torment. Once she understood his devotion, she’d find the ability to forgive him one more time.

In the weeks after her injury, he remained glued to her side. He neglected his business, the messy matter of revenge. Everything stopped, including his heart, until she recovered. The doctors assured him she would be okay to move after two weeks. He didn’t believe them. She had been pale, weak, and despondent. Protecting her became paramount, so he took the risk. Between the Feds, and The Order, the enemy closed in on her, leaving him little choice.

When she woke, instead of gratitude, he’d found fury.

She accused him of locking her up. Cursed him and his visits. Refused to even look at him for many weeks, and stopped speaking to him altogether. It made him crazy. So much so, he refused her sister and her friend Cosmo access to her. No one had been granted permission to visit. It would be his final mistake. His actions, though well intentioned, only made her resent him more. The rehabilitation center became her prison. She said he wanted her caged so he could have access to her when he chose. The truth had been much simpler. The only way he knew how to love her was to hold her tight.

Lee stared through the opaque glass of the rectangular cut-out in the door. There she stood, beautiful as always. The green sweater she wore appeared soft like cashmere and fit nicely around the voluptuous outline of her breasts and trim waist. She had on a pair of dark-blue jeans, hugged to the curves of her hips and rounded rump, following the length of her athletic legs. Her hair, usually straight with an onyx shine, appeared ashen and dull, thick and wavy from being un-kept over the past weeks. She had tamed it to a poufy ponytail. As she zipped her duffle, she turned her head to survey the room, revealing her profile. The color had returned to her cheeks. Diamond studs sparkled in her pierced lobes. She should always be in diamonds.

Michelle placed her hand to the curve of her hip. This place had been her home for a little over a month. Flowers, old and new, were in vases. He had her clothes brought in and even picked out some things for her to read. Those items remained untouched in the spot where he’d laid them. Her thick lashes lowered. Her head slowly turned, to him this time, and she fixed him with an icy glare, the coldest he’d received yet. A suffocating sensation tightened his throat. She made not a move. She just stared.

He pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Michelle stood motionless in the middle of the room. She felt him before he made his presence known. Watching her, as he’d done for weeks, looking for an opening to deceive her again. She was tired of their game. Wanted it to end. But she was powerless to do anything but play it with him.

“Packed and ready to go?” he asked.

“I’m done.” She gave an impatient shrug.

“With?” he half-joked, and approached her.

She turned. Poised in her heeled boots, with a hand to her hip, she emphasized the word: “You.”

“Too bad I can’t say the same. We aren’t over.”

“I say we are. I’m tired, Lee. I don’t want to fight with you. Not anymore.” She drew in a deep, unsteady breath and stepped back. He came forward, moving in front of her. Wow, he reminded her sometimes of her father. He carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence. Though Pops was a drunk, men respected him every time he entered the room. Lee had the same air of control over others, over her. She absorbed his attractive male physique. His suit had been tailored precisely to fit his broad shoulders and muscular frame. Lee stood about six-two, maybe three. His dark, silky brows and clear blue eyes were a startling contrast to his pale skin and raven-black hair. She could barely stand to look at him without wanting to be comforted by him. “I gave you what you wanted, Lee. No, actually I gave you more than you wanted. Don’t you understand, we’re on empty now? There’s nothing left for you to have.”

He advanced on her. Michelle had rehearsed this moment from the start of the morning. Her hope to escape the facility before he arrived had been dashed. How far could she run? Eddie had to be out there, still on his hunt for revenge. She could trust no one, and she had three dollars in her purse and eighty-seven cents in her checking account. Lee had taken the cash she’d stashed at his place when he’d whisked her away from Chicago.

Lee’s square jaw tensed with visible strain as he stood before her. Drops of moisture clung to his brow. She wanted to be unaffected. She struggled hard to not care, to ignore the torment and pain reflected in his penetrating stare. The truth hurt. She loved him today as much as she loved him when she had been just sixteen. The loss of their child would always bind them. A baby with his stubborn streak and her smile would have changed them both. Michelle never envisioned motherhood; now it consumed her nights and days with regrets. Why did their baby have to die? Did God punish them both because of their sins?

“I’m empty.” She repeated up into his face. “So what now? What do you want?”

“What I want is to stop your pain. If I could have my wish it would be…I’d want our child to have lived.” His expression stilled and grew serious.

“Let’s be honest, Lee. Any child you and I have we’d destroy, after we destroyed each other.” She made to move around him and he stepped with her, blocking her pass. “Lee, move.”

“Take it back!” He frowned with cold fury.

She adjusted her smile. “Why?”

“Don’t you ever dismiss our child’s death. Take it back!” he said through clenched teeth.

Michelle, shaken by the threat in his tone, had to lower her gaze. “Okay.”

Lee’s voice dropped an octave when he spoke again. “We lost our baby. It’s my fault. I should have protected you, trusted my instincts.”

“Lee, please stop.”

“I’ll make them pay. I’ll kill ’em all—”

“Stop it, dammit!” Lee blinked at her, confused. “Stop, okay? No more violence. I can’t take it.”

He touched her and she shrugged off his hand. Lee persisted and she was forced into his arms. Soon hers, of their own accord, were circling his waist. He kissed the top of her head. Stroked her hair.

“My first priority is you. I had to make sure you were okay, Michelle. Now that you are, we’re starting again. Nothing has changed between us.” He relaxed his hold on her and brushed her cheeks with the backs of his fingers. She tensed over how soothing his touch was. With mild force, Lee grabbed her face in both hands. He brought his forehead down to hers until their skulls met. Michelle winced over the burn it drove through her brow, and gripped his wrist, trying hard to free herself. But his lips covered hers before she could manage the break. A crushingly needy kiss followed. She softened under its weight.

“Forgive me.” He breathed into her mouth, trying to pry her lips apart for another kiss. “Damn it, Michelle, forgive me, baby. Don’t make me beg.”

Michelle lowered her hands from his wrists. The caress of his lips inspired a trickle of love, sparking forbidden desires for him in her heart. What the hell was wrong with her? How could she even stomach the thought of them, together, now? Yet she could. It would be her secret truth. She loved him so badly, the truth hurt.

“Stop fighting me. I’ve been so lonely for you.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I’ve suffered without you,” he said as her lips finally parted to object and he stole her breath. His tongue eased between her teeth, bringing to her the bitter taste of his morning cigar and whiskey. She imagined his days and nights had been filled with drinking since this began, or had it been so for him always? Who would take care of him if she did escape? Who would care for Lee, but her?

“Thank you, babe. I need you so much.”

She pressed her open palms to his chest. She could feel the racing beat of his heart vibrate into the spaces between her fingers. He groaned once as his tongue swept across hers. Warm and wet, the kiss returned the tenderness that had been missing between them for weeks. Lee’s passion drove her head back. His hands lessened their hold. One slid to the curve of her neck. His fingers wrapped around her nape, keeping her head firmly in place. The trembling of her limbs kept her locked in his embrace. He deepened the kiss, and the last of her resistance melted.

Michelle rubbed her hands up the strong definition of his tight, muscled arms. She hooked hers around his neck and returned his kiss. With everything in her, she kissed him, wanting to comfort him and be comforted. It felt good to hold him again. She hadn’t touched him since the shooting, the lies, the loss of their child. This would be the first time she’d felt anything besides all-consuming sadness. She chose to savor the feeling. All the while, she kept one eye on the door.

If he knew of the deception behind the reasons for her submission, he didn’t care, because his feverish lips broke from hers to sear a hot-wet path of light kisses across her face and neck. She closed her eyes and let a tear drop. In her mind, she saw it, just as she did every time she’d closed her eyes since that fateful night.

“Don’t!” She shoved him off.

Lee let her go.

“I can’t breathe when you force things on me. Step off, Lee. Now.” She turned from him, wiping her lips. Her chest burned at the spot the bullet had pierced her skin, a phantom pain she’d become accustomed to. “Don’t touch me again, please. I can’t now. I won’t. Just stop.”

She looked back, ready to strike if he tried. To see if he’d challenge her, force himself on her. Give her a reason to break his jaw for the hell of it. But he didn’t. Instead, he crossed the room and collected her luggage.

“Have it your way, Chocolat. You know how this works. It’s not over until I say it is,” he mumbled, unable to shield his hurt from her. He stepped aside for her to lead the way. She picked up her jacket and grabbed her purse. Their gazes met and locked for just a brief moment, before lowering. He was right. She knew the game. And loving him was never part of the deal.

Chapter Three

“Kumar, wake up, sweetheart. My sister comes home today.” Sasha brushed her lips across his cheek. She rolled under the sheet to escape the bed, but his arm hooked around her waist. Immediately she was drawn in.