Wounded Beast (Gypsy Heroes Book 2)
Read Wounded Beast (Gypsy Heroes Book 2) Online
Authors: Georgia Le Carre
Georgia Le Carre
ALSO BY GEORGIA
The Billionaire Banker Series
Owned
42 Days
Besotted
Seduce Me
Love’s Sacrifice
Masquerade
Pretty Wicked
(Novella)
Disfigured Love
Crystal Jake
(The EDEN Series)
Sexy Beast
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Wounded Beast
Published by Georgia Le Carre
Copyright © 2015 by Georgia Le Carre
The right of Georgia Le Carre to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
ISBN
:
978-1-910575-17-8
You can discover more information about Georgia Le Carre and future releases here.
https://www.facebook.com/georgia.lecarre
This book is dedicated to these AMAZING women:
Caryl Minton,
Elizabeth Burns &
SueBee of ‘Bring Me An Alpha’
The call themselves beta readers, but I call them
my indispensible secret weapons.
Contents
Memories …
Why do you come back?
—Amit Singh, Poet
S
ometimes you read a book or watch a movie and you get to that point in the story when everything is about to change forever. At this point the characters could escape and go on with their life as if nothing had happened. The moment when the hero or heroine stands in front of a closed door and decides whether to go in and face the unknown, or walk away. Once, I thought I stood at that door.
But in real life there is often more than one door.
If I hadn’t called my accountant that morning, or if I had called him five minutes later when I was already in the one-way traffic system and it was impossible to turn around and go back, I would never have come across that door. But I did call him, just before I reached the point where the traffic system would have made the door disappear.
‘Hey, Dom,’ he says briskly.
‘What time is your appointment with the parasites today?’
‘They’re already at the restaurant. I’m driving there right now, but I’ll probably be another twenty minutes. I hope they don’t start talking to the staff or snooping around.’ He sounds apprehensive.
‘Where are you meeting them?’ I ask.
‘Lady Marmalade.’
‘I’m less than five minutes away. I’ll go and keep the fuckers company while they wait for you,’ I offer.
‘No!’ he shouts suddenly, so loudly it makes my eardrum vibrate like a tuning fork.
‘What the fuck, Nigel!’ I swear, tearing the phone away from my ear.
He calms down double quick. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to shout. But please, whatever you do, don’t go there.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s just better.’
‘You think I’m scared of those pug-ugly inspectors?’
‘No, no, no, I don’t think that at all. I’d just really appreciate it if you didn’t confront them.’
‘I’m not going to confront them. I’ll just pass by and offer them a cappuccino.’
I hear him take a deep breath. ‘Dom. In my professional capacity I have to advise you not to make contact with them. They’re dangerous. Anything you say could lead them to deepen their investigation. I know how to handle them. You don’t.’
‘Look. I’m already turning in to the restaurant. Tell me their names. I’ll be the perfect host, I promise.’
I hear him sigh dramatically. ‘It’s Mr. Robert Hunter and Miss Ella Savage.’
‘A woman?’ I ask surprised as I switch off the ignition, open the door and step into the light summer rain.
‘You don’t want to underestimate her. Savage by name and savage by nature,’ Nigel cautions immediately. ‘She’s like the Snow Queen. Beautiful and ruthless. You definitely don’t want to hit on her.’
I laugh. Nigel always amuses me. I own strip clubs full of beautiful, willing women with hardly any clothes on. I’m hardly desperate enough or foolish enough to try to chat up the tax officer who has come to break my balls. Although, I kinda like the idea of taking a snooty cow down a peg or two. ‘Don’t mistake me for Shane,’ I tell him. My younger brother Shane is the playboy of the family.
‘Look, all I’m saying is don’t rock the boat in any way,’ he urges in frustration.
The back door of the restaurant is open, and some of my staff are lounging around smoking cigarettes under the canopy. ‘Morning, boss,’ they greet cheerfully, and I raise a finger in acknowledgment.
‘Hang on, Nigel,’ I say into the receiver and turn toward my boys. ‘Are the tax officers inside?’
They nod. ‘Yes, boss. Maria has already offered them coffee. They looked a bit pissed off that there was no management here to meet them. The bloke’s gone to the toilet—he’s been in there for the last five minutes—and the woman’s waiting in the restaurant.’
I thank them and step into the washing up area of the restaurant. The dishwashers are running and it is noisy. I wait until I get to the kitchen area before I put the phone back to my ear.
‘Right, Nigel, I’ll see you in about fifteen minutes.’
‘I’d really prefer it if you did not meet them, Dom,’ he says, barely able to mask his anxiety.
‘I know. You said.’
‘Whatever you do, don’t antagonize them,’ he pleads.
‘I won’t.’
‘Right. Just remember: the less said, the better. Don’t let her manipulate you into revealing anything.’
‘There’s nothing to reveal, Nigel,’ I say and kill the connection.
I nod at my chef, Sebastiano. He’s standing over a hunk of meat laid out on the stainless steel table. In his right hand he’s holding a knife, and with his left hand he’s stroking the meat as if it’s alive to locate the juiciest, most tender part so it can be precisely carved out and presented as tonight’s Chef’s Special. Cutting meat properly is a skill as old as hunting itself.
I walk past the fridges and the tables with the heating lamps suspended over them before reaching the swing door to the restaurant. Before I go in I stop and look through the round glass hole in the door. The restaurant is mostly in darkness. Only one section is lit. My eyes fall on the woman sitting under the light. At that moment she lifts her head from a file she is studying and I see her face.
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!
I jerk away from the glass in shock and disbelief and lean against the cold tiles of the wall. Air is no longer reaching my lungs. My heart feels constricted, as if steel hands have reached inside my body and are squeezing it like a lump of fucking dough. I gasp for breath. How can fate be so fucking cruel to play such a trick on me? Why?
Something deep inside me starts screaming.
And suddenly, I’m not standing outside the door to my restaurant anymore. I’m in freezing, black water. All around me is pitch-dark. My legs are still kicking, but feebly. Far away in the distance I can see the headlights of the boat. Jake is coming.
I want to scream, but I can’t.
My skin feels too fucking tight. Like the animal in the cage that chews at its own bloody tail in horror at its loss. In my peripheral vision, Sebastiano is holding the knife at the perfect angle as he slices into the muscle and fiber. That meat is dead. It will not feel the sharp steel cutting into it. I too am dead. I will not feel the pain.
Ah, it’s that fucking door again. But I can walk away, and nothing in my life will change. I can remain dead.
I take a deep breath. I can still walk away. I should walk away.
But I don’t.
I open the door and enter the restaurant.
And Ella Savage turns her head and stares coldly at me.
