THE NOTES OF Fatal Lullaby faded as Death Dance began. I tried to open my eyes, but all I saw was black. Were my eyes not opening or was it the blindfold?
No! I wanted to scream. This couldn’t be happening. I was never going back again. Never! Why was I here?
The last thing I remembered was taking Val’s medicine and going to sleep. I was in my bed, in my suite. How did this happen?
The cold, smooth bars of the headboard felt familiar under my grasp. As my fingers flexed, the indignation within me grew. I wasn’t doing this. I wouldn’t. Just as I was about to release the bars, Stewart’s voice spoke to me, “I’m here, darling. Show us that pretty, wet pussy.”
No! My legs snapped together.
“Come on, Tori, don’t make our friend mad.”
This wasn’t real. Stewart was dead! I saw him die! My mind searched desperately for answers as the bed shifted. I tried to let go of the headboard, but I couldn’t. My hands weren’t obeying my mind.
Cold, rough hands reached for my ankles. Uncharacteristically, I kicked, feeling my foot strike something hard. The bed shifted again, the harsh hands brutally seized my ankles and pulled my body farther down the bed. Though I tried to fight, one by one my ankles were secured and tightly bound as my legs were pulled apart to a painful width.
“No!” I found my voice. “No! Stop!” I screamed louder, hoping that my pleas rang throughout the warehouse and beyond. I knew the location was remote and isolated for a reason. Nevertheless, even though I couldn’t hear myself with the headphones, I continued to scream. I must have spoken, because as my demands grew louder, a large hand came down and covered my mouth. I tried with all my might to bite, but the person moved his hand, just out of the way.
“Stop, baby,” Stewart’s calm voice came through the headphones. “You know the rules. No talking.”
I’m not doing this! You’re dead! You can’t make me!
I screamed a muffled scream into the hand, as pain emanated from my hair and the blindfold and headphones were ripped from my head. The onslaught of light momentarily blinded me, making it difficult to focus on the man before me. He was right on top of me, his hand over my mouth and his rancid breath filling my senses.
Senator Robert Keene’s voice was low and menacing. “Do you want to fight? Good. I like that.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair and snapped my head back. “Keep it up. I always thought you were too compliant.”
I glared. Motherfucker, this isn’t happening.
“Stewart made promises. If you think I’ll continue to support his endeavors without this little incentive, you’re as stupid as you are hot.”
My heartbeat quickened as panic overtook me. No. I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t. I’d never been this frightened before. Stewart couldn’t help me. My mind searched for possibilities.
Robert’s face came closer. With his hand still over my mouth he leaned in and licked my cheek. My stomach threatened revolt as his wet tongue lapped the other cheek and he spoke, “There we go. Will you be a good girl or do we need to punish you?” Gripping my hair tighter he bathed my face in his awful breath and asked, “What’s it going to be, are you going to be a good girl?”
Fucker! I nodded—as much as I could with his hand entwined in my hair. Yeah, I’ll fucking be a good girl.
He petted my head, loosened his grip, and slowly removed his hand from my mouth. As he started to move, I fought against the restraints and screamed with everything in me. It was my only hope, my only chance. “Travis! Travis! Help me!”
Hands came to my shoulders and I braced myself for Robert’s punishment.
“Vik, Vik. Wake up.”
“No way, motherfucker! Travis! Help me. Travis!” My voice was louder than it had been before. My skin dripped with perspiration as my trembling body fought the restraints. Instantly, my hands and feet flung free. The restraints were gone. I pushed past the hands, and rushed from the bed. As I did, the room came into focus. The warehouse was gone. I was in my suite and I wasn’t alone. Val was in the middle of my bed, the covers disheveled and her eyes as big as saucers. Her gray questioning gaze stared through me as if I were possessed.
My mind couldn’t register what had just happened. My shaking body was no longer naked; instead I was covered in a sweat-dampened nightgown. Robert Keene wasn’t with me. I was in my apartment, my suite. Val moved cautiously toward me, as if she were afraid of what I might do. All energy and strength left my limbs as I closed my eyes and fell to my knees.
I was fucking losing it.
Just as Val reached me, my suite door opened. I looked up to see Travis’ large frame fill the doorway. In the dim light, I felt his dark eyes assessing the scene.
Val turned toward him. “She’s all right. I’m sorry I bothered you. I think she was having a nightmare. The only name I recognized was yours. She was calling to you.”
I shook my head. “No, I wasn’t. I’m fine.”
“Vik, you’re not fine,” Val said. “You were in the middle of some nightmare or night terror. I couldn’t get you to wake up. You almost decked me. What the hell were you dreaming about?”
I stared toward Travis. He’d yet to speak. Trying for a small bit of decorum, I stood and reached for my robe. Securing it around me, I said, “Thank you for coming, Travis. I’m fine. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my room.”
His back stiffened. Why was I concerned about him seeing me in my nightgown? He’d obviously seen me with a lot less. Instead of listening, he took a step closer. His customary dark slacks were replaced by gym shorts that exposed his thick, muscular legs, and his feet were bare. “Mrs. Harrington, if you figure out what your nightmare was about, or if I can be of any assistance, I don’t mind your call.” He turned toward Val. “Or yours, doctor. I’m here.”
I exhaled. “I don’t think that will be necessary. I probably shouldn’t have taken that medicine.” I feigned a smile toward my sister. “It was like some horror story, a monster or something.” My eyes went toward Travis. “I’m not sure. I couldn’t see much.”
His eyes closed knowingly. “Mrs. Harrington, are you sure you’re fine?”
I nodded, standing as tall as possible in my bare feet. “I am.”
“Just know, ma’am, I’m downstairs. No monsters will restrict your vision as long as I’m here.” With that he turned, and said, “Good night.”
Val and I watched as he walked out into the hallway and closed the door. Once he was gone, Val wrinkled her nose and said, “Well, that was kind of weird.” Turning toward me, she continued, “I’m sorry that I called him, Vik. I used your phone. You were screaming and you kept calling for him. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“Kept?”
She reached for my hand and led me toward the bed. “Yeah, it went on for over ten minutes. Psychiatry isn’t my thing, but something is going on. Please let me get you connected to someone who can help you.”
Could anyone help me? I thought this would all be over when Stewart died. I looked at the clock. “Val, I’m sorry for waking you so early.” I eyed my bed. “Did you fall asleep in here? We do have other rooms.”
She grinned. “I know you do. I didn’t want to leave you. You wouldn’t have left me. That’s what sisters do.”
I pressed my lips together. Sisters. The term made my chest hurt. We were sisters. We were. Just like Marcus and Lyle were my brothers. Did it matter that our fathers weren’t the same?
“Okay, then. Climb back in.” I patted the mattress of my large king-sized bed. “It’s not even three. Why don’t we try to get some more sleep?”
“If you promise not to try to kick me again,” she said with a gleam in her gray eyes.
“Oh, no. Did I kick you?”
“Don’t worry about it. That must have been some monster. You know some people have problems with night terrors after taking sleep medicine. I’m sorry, sis. I was trying to help.”
I reached out and touched her arm. My trembling was nearly gone. “It was only a dream.” Was I reassuring her or myself?
She turned off the light near the bed and the room fell silent. After a few minutes, Val asked, “Vik?”
“Yes?”
“Who’s horizontal-friend?”
I turned toward her voice. The darkened scene reminded me of a simpler time, the years we’d spent sharing a room. “Why?”
“I get it if you don’t want to tell me. I was just wondering why you’d call out for Travis in your dream and not him, or even Stewart.”
I shrugged. “I remember in my dream telling myself that Stewart was dead. Even in my dream, I knew he couldn’t help me.”
“But you called out for Travis, the guy you used to say gave you the creeps?” Her voice grew higher. “Is he horizontal-friend?”
“No! God no.”
Val’s laugh filled the room. “Okay, I was just wondering. Is he married?”
I tried to keep up. “Travis, no, he isn’t married.”
“No,” Val corrected, “Horizontal-friend?”
I shook my head in the dark, thinking about Brody. “No, he’s not.”
“Good.”
“Why good?” I asked.
“Because I don’t want you having another one of these nightmares and being all alone.”
“Maybe this is something I need to explore with your counselor. Good night, Val.”
“Night, sis.”
Would Brody understand? How could I explain to him what I was imagining? He’d read the contract, but I’d never given him the particulars. He knew there were other men. He knew it was Stewart’s idea of fun, but he didn’t know any more. What would he think of me if he knew? But then I wondered if I really cared. He was the one spouting things about being the only man in my life. Right now, I didn’t care about having a man in my life. I mean, the sex was hot—it was. However, after all the bombshells I’d had dropped in the past few days I didn’t want a man. I wanted a life: a normal life. A wishful smile came to my face.
Could I ever have a normal life? Just Brody and I, away from Miami, away from the warehouse and Stewart’s deals. Away from Marilyn and Carlisle? I’d never allowed myself to entertain such an idea, but now I did. Could that be my new goal?
The question that arose was what would I be willing to do to achieve it?
As sleep threatened, I knew my answer: anything.
MY NIGHTMARE FROM the night before gave me new resolve. I wasn’t going back to the warehouse. There was no way in hell I could do it. Somehow knowing that if I returned it would be without Stewart made the whole situation seem somehow viler.
Early that next morning, I texted Brody:
“DO YOU KNOW OF ANYONE NAMED CARLISLE?”
The next thing I did was call Craven and Knowles. With each ring, I contemplated my options. Until I knew exactly what I was up against, I couldn’t truly form my plan. The answering of my call refocused my attention.
“Craven and Knowles, this is Trish. May I help you?”
“Trish, this is Mrs. Harrington. I need to speak with Parker as soon as possible. Tell him to call me.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’ll inform Maggie—”
“No, Trish, I’m not interested in his assistant. If I were I’d ask for her. On second thought, tell Parker that if Craven and Knowles plan to be part of the Harrington future, he’ll be at my apartment at ten this morning. I’ll be waiting.”
“Mrs. Harrington, I’m sure he has appointments.”
“Then he can cancel them. Good day.” I hung up.
Settling into Stewart’s chair I opened Parker’s folder, the pages burning my fingers. I hated every word as I scanned Parker’s contract. No longer was I a naïve eighteen-year-old. Now, I understood the meaning of the words. The innuendos were no longer mysterious but daunting. A knock on the door pulled me away from the torturous words on the page and back to the glass office overlooking the rough seas. I glanced at the clock: only a little before nine.
I didn’t think it would be Parker without an announcement from Lisa or Kristina. “Come in,” I responded cautiously.
The door opened and the familiar, dark gaze looked my way. “Mrs. Harrington, are you feeling better?”
I sat taller. “Yes, Travis. It was wrong of Val to bother you in the middle of the night.”
He came forward and eyed one of the chairs. I nodded as he sat. “No, it wasn’t wrong. It’s my job to make sure you’re all right.”
“Fine, it’s your job. You can protect me from real things, not nightmares.”
His brow rose as his dark brown eyes widened. “But you called out for me?”
“According to Valerie,” I clarified.
“So now we’re accusing the good doctor of lying?”
I stood and walked to the window. The skies were an uncustomary gray, with thick clouds that billowed toward the horizon as white caps graced the tips of the waves in the raging ocean. It was late autumn, near the end of hurricane season. Only large commercial ocean liners could be seen on the rough waters. The smaller crafts no doubt had heeded the warning about the impending weather.
Was that what I needed to do? Heed the warnings… but which ones? Who could I believe? Without turning, I began, “It was so real. I was there, at the warehouse. I was even reasoning with myself. I knew it couldn’t be real. I knew Stewart was dead. I remembered you saying that you’d always been there.” I closed my eyes and fought the revolt in the pit of my stomach from Robert’s rancid breath. “I tried to fight.”
A muffled laugh came from behind me. “As I recall, you’re a pretty damn good fighter.”
Hugging my midsection I spun and took in Travis’ expression. I didn’t see pity or condemnation as I’d expected; instead, I saw respect. I continued, “But this time was different. I couldn’t fight. My hands and feet were bound.”
“It wasn’t real,” Travis said matter-of-factly.
“It sure as hell felt real. It smelled real. I even saw him. He took off my blindfold. It was as if he wanted me to know it was him.”
Travis’ neck straightened. “Who? Who did you see?”
Biting my lip, I admitted, “I don’t know if I should say.”
“Why? You know I know who’s been there.”
“But what will it mean if I know? I’m not supposed to know.”
Travis stood and moved closer. “Who said you’re not supposed to know?”
“S-Stewart.”
His dark eyes questioned mine. “Mr. Harrington is dead. Right now, no one owns that contract. Right now, the choice is yours to know or not know.”
I moved back to the chair, suddenly alarmed at my desire to find solace in his proximity and common understanding. “Why would I possibly want to give anyone, you or Parker, the right to make those kinds of decisions for me again?”
“Because if you don’t, there are those who want to suck you into a world that will make your nightmare seem like a walk on the beach.”
“Those?”
“Who did you see in your nightmare?”
I closed my eyes and inhaled. Sighing, I admitted, “Senator Keene.”
Travis’ dark eyes opened wide as a shrill whistle came from his lips. “Damn, how long have you known?”
I shrugged. “Not long. You said politicians. He was at the viewing and I smelled him.”
“You smelled him?”
“You know—senses. I was never able to see the men or hear them. Most of the time I wasn’t allowed to touch them—not with my hands. That left the sense of smell and taste. Over the years I’ve identified a few friends by their unique odor: particular colognes, aftershaves, their breath. Senator Keene’s breath reeks.”
Travis nodded. “He’s one of the friends who’s not happy about the end of his visits. He’s supported or rather effectively turned a blind eye to some of the activities that happened within the underworld of Harrington Spas and Suites. He’s even been instrumental in expanding the business outside of the US. He believes that he’s entitled.”
“So how will that change if you or Parker is in control?”
“It won’t. However, it will keep you safer. Mr. Harrington had rules. You’re right that he enjoyed watching, but he also watched to be sure his rules were maintained. Multiple times throughout the years Mr. Harrington stopped things that you never knew about.”
I didn’t want to think about that. “Let me get this straight.” I looked Travis in the eye. “It doesn’t matter if it’s you or Parker, you both plan on making me continue this… this… life?”
“I don’t know what Mr. Craven plans. I would assume he does. From what I know of him, I would also assume the rules would be significantly different under his watchful eye.”
“From what you know? He’s one of them, isn’t he?”
Travis nodded again. “I don’t think that’s a revelation, is it?”
“No,” I admitted. “I’ve known that for a while, too.” I looked at Travis earnestly, “What about you? What are your plans?”
“To bring the fuckers down. Not all of them. There are a few sick bastards who’ve joined this party because they could. They have no hidden agenda. They’ll go away as quietly as they came. They don’t want their good names associated with a possible scandal. A few seconds of carefully selected audio and I can make them go away; however, there are a handful who know exactly what they’re doing. They think that by fucking with you, they’re helping themselves with other causes. I want to see them all burn in hell. Fuck, I’ll probably be there with them, but at least that’s a show I’ll enjoy.”
“Why, Travis? Why do you care?”
“It’s a long story.” He sighed. “One that began when I was too young to understand. Let’s just say that I knew a woman, one who was caught up in something similar to what you’ve gone through, but worse.”
I shook my head. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Really? Fucking look at yourself. Look at your goddamned life. You’re Victoria Fucking Harrington. You aren’t a poor girl with a twelve-year-old kid who’s trying to stay alive by playing the kinky games these ass-wipes want to play. You have choices. Mr. Harrington made choices for you, ones that would pacify the powers that be. They won’t stay pacified for long.
“You want to know what I’d do with that contract. I’d explain a few more of your choices to you. One thing I’d say is that you have a fucking fortune. Use it. Take it. Leave the goddamn world of Harrington Spas and Suites to rot.
“Do you really want to own a company that is nothing more than a cover for the exploitation of women who don’t live the fucking high life you live? I’m not saying that you’ve had it easy. You haven’t. But at the end of each day, you were unhurt and sleeping in a fancy-ass apartment or mansion with a fucking rock on your finger that could feed one of those other women’s families for five years.”
My stomach knotted. I’d never thought about it like that.
“You were destined for that life. Mr. Harrington made it the best he could. Now is your chance to make it better.”
Travis’ voice lowered. “I can guarantee that if you choose to not sign a contract with either one of us, my fucking job will get a lot more difficult. They want you.”
“Who? Who fucking wants me?”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Who fucked you the other day?”
I no longer felt that I had any secrets from Travis. In a way it was liberating. Without blinking, I replied honestly, “Brody Phillips.”
He shook his head. “Jesus, are you fucking crazy? He’s part of Craven and Knowles. They’re so deep in this shit. Your sense of smell should have told you to stay away.”
“No, you’re wrong. He does work there, but he’s not one of them. He didn’t know about the contract, the warehouse, or anything until I asked him to dig into it. All he knows is what I’ve told him.”
Travis leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. “So he’s the reason you knew about the will?”
“Yes. You see? He’s helped me. It’s Parker I don’t trust.”
“Follow your gut… with Mr. Craven.”
“He’s on his way over.”
Travis inhaled deeply, his chest expanding in his tight shirt. “I implore you, Mrs. Harrington, do not sign his contract. Tell him that you’ve thought it over and want to fulfill your husband’s wishes. If you trust Mr. Phillips so much, have him write up a new contract with my name. But above all, under no circumstances should you sneak off without me. You truly don’t realize what you’re up against.”
“Travis, before you go, I want you to tell me something.”
His brow rose.
“Who is Carlisle?”
The blood drained from Travis’ usually confident expression. “Mrs. Harrington, neither Senator Keene nor Parker Craven is your worst nightmare. I’m not sure how or why you’re aware of Carlisle Albini; however, I suggest you forget what you know. He’s none of your concern; neither is Niccolo, Wesley, nor any of their family.”
None of my concern. Stewart had said that before we married. Albini? Wesley Albini, from Kinsley Preparatory.
“Niccolo is Carlisle’s brother. Who’s Wesley?” I asked.
“Mrs. Harrington, you have no idea what you’re asking.”
I raised my voice. “Tell me. Who is he?”
“Wesley is his son.”
“Niccolo’s son?”
“No, Carlisle’s.”
My head felt suddenly too heavy to hold. Wesley Albini was my brother.