Chapter Thirteen

 

Tamara

Long seconds drag by, and I take deep breaths until the strangling fury loosens its hold on me. Where did that storm of jealousy come from? It was ridiculous. He’s never given me any cause for it. If anything, from the moment he took me, he’s completely devoted himself to me—in unhealthy ways for sure, but there was never any question that he was wrapping his life around mine.

And yet, just thinking about women being in the same room as Joshua, looking at him, wanting him…it makes me feel murderous. I can imagine how other women react when they see him, because I know what effect he had on me when I first saw him. His cold beauty, the raw animal power that roves just beneath the surface…it pulled me toward him like the moon is drawn to Earth.

Abruptly, Joshua steps away from me.

“We’re going to go for a walk now,” he announces.

“A walk? Like…just going out and enjoying the scenery?”

“Yes.” He nods firmly and throws his arm around my shoulder. He steers me toward the front door. “We’re going to spend some time together doing normal couple things if it kills us. Normal couples take walks outside when it’s nice, don’t they?”

I can’t help it; I actually start to laugh as we head through the foyer into an enormous living room with views of the mountains in the distance, and the dark cloud that was clinging to me blows clean away.

“How did this even occur to you? Did you look it up online or something?”

“Where else? I went to the website datingforserialkillers.com and picked one from the list.”

I laugh harder, laugh until my shoulders shake and tears leak from my eyes.

Joshua laughs too. “It wasn’t that funny.”

“Oh God. You have an actual sense of humor. Maybe someday you’ll be a real boy.”

“Pinocchio,” he observes, as he opens a door onto another landscaped garden with stone paths, fountains, and enormous multi-branched cacti. “So well-read.”

“Um, I was actually paraphrasing the Disney movie, not the book. But thank you for thinking I’m at least semi-literate.”

It’s midafternoon now, and the sun gilds the distant mountain-tops with a golden glow. I stand still for a moment, drinking in the beauty. There are acres and acres of landscaping surrounding the house. Flagstone pathways wind through islands of carefully sculpted mini-scapes. There are dry riverbeds with bridges over flowing streams of polished rocks that wink in the sun. Arrangements of wicker chairs with cushions in a half circle in front of an outdoor chimney. Mesquite trees with ornaments dangling from them.

“Did you design all this?” I wave my hand at the garden, then the house.

“No, I hired a decorator. Same with the house in Maine.” His fingers stroke the small of my back as we walk. “If we had a house together, what style would you pick?”

I frown in thought. “Well, it would depend on where the house was. I like a house that reflects the region it’s in, like this one. I’m also fond of the shabby chic look, myself. But if we were…hey!” I shake my head. “Nice job, planting that image in my head of us owning a house together.”

“Thank you. I pride myself on being a manipulative bastard. It’s nice to have my work acknowledged.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

He’s joking with me. We’re bantering. It’s so…normal. I feel a sudden flood of lightness that makes me stumble, and he catches my arm protectively.

Could it always be like this?

We stroll in silence for a little while longer. pause by a tan, three-tiered fountain bubbling with crystal-clear water. His tone is light and playful, he’s saying all the right things, but I can’t ignore the faint, haunted air that clings to him like smoke. It’s so subtle that I don’t think that anyone but me would spot it.

“Is everything all right? You seem…tired. Preoccupied. Something.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, Charlemagne is loose in the world again. With a hundred million dollars of mine, and a brilliant mind that is laser-focused on tearing my life apart in ways that are the most painful to me. And since you’re my only weakness, the only thing that would hurt me to lose, that laser is trained right on you. So there’s that.”

I have the feeling there’s something more to it than that, but if he doesn’t want to tell me, there’s nothing I can do to pry it out of him.

We’re coming around to the side of the house. “How long do you think we’ll be here?” I ask. I realize I’m resigning myself to staying. Even if I could get past all his security, Joshua’s right about the danger I’d face. Micah’s got insane resources, and he’d find me eventually. The thought sends a tremor of sick terror through me.

Joshua’s about to answer when we hear a scream coming from around the corner. I freeze on the spot, but Joshua keeps walking, looking perfectly calm.

It takes me a moment to realize I’m hearing shrieks of laughter. Children’s laughter. I glance at Joshua, but he just gives me a mysterious smile.

We keep walking, and when we round the corner, I see Astrid and her children. All five of them. The two sons I never met but recognize from pictures Astrid emailed me, and her three daughters.

They don’t seem upset. In fact, I’ve never seen Astrid so happy and relaxed. They’re playing basketball on a big paved-over area, and Astrid is laughing, and her kids are smiling too. Beyond the tarmac, there’s an enormous obstacle course with ropes dangling over high wooden walls.

There are four big, bulky men playing basketball with Astrid and her children. Joshua’s security guards. They look like linebackers who’ve been fed a steady diet of steroids.

“Why are they here?” I ask him. “How do you even know them?”

He shrugs. “When I was searching for you, I…had Dr. Barnard and his two sons brought to my house. I kept them safe there while Micah was on the loose. And after you were found, Astrid called me to thank me for helping to save you all.”

I look at him, frowning. “Brought to your house”?

Sounds like kidnapping. But from the looks of it, he did it in such a way that the boys, at least, thought he was helping them.

He ignores that. “When my brother escaped this morning, I notified them immediately and offered to let them stay with me. I told them they’d have 24/7 security. They jumped at the chance.” He frowns at Fletcher. “That boy can’t dunk to save his life.”

I wave that away. “He’s twelve, right? Give him time. What I’m asking is, why are you helping someone when it doesn’t benefit you? That seems to go against everything you’ve ever told me about the way your mind works.”

He smiles, and I’m struck by how much more human his smile is than Micah-Charlemagne-psycho’s.

“You know I only act in my own self-interest. If Charlemagne got them, it would hurt you. And that would be tedious for me. So I brought them here to make you happy. You’re welcome.”

Astrid sees me and calls out, waving energetically.

I hurry over to them, breaking into a jog, with Joshua following.

Astrid throws her arms around me and hugs me hard, and her daughters crowd around to get in on the action.

“You’re in our club!” Darlie says to me with a huge smile, bouncing on her heels with excitement. At my puzzled look, she explains. “Mom says we’re the survivors club. And you’re part of our club.” Tears fill my eyes, and she looks alarmed. “Did I say something bad?” she asks, worried.

“No, I’m crying because I’m happy.” I hug her, then let her go so I can swipe at my cheeks with my sleeve. My heart is pounding in my chest. “I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me.”

Astrid introduces me to her two sons. They look at Joshua with hero-worship shining in their pale blue eyes. He doesn’t seem to notice. He’s standing back, watching us, and I feel a sudden pang of pity for him. He’s on the outside looking in. He can’t help himself. He’s built that invisible wall between himself and everyone else, even me, and I worry he’ll always be trapped on the outside, alone. That’s a terrible way to go through life.

“You guys go ahead and play,” Astrid says to Robin. “I want to talk to Tamara for a minute.”

“If you can call it playing,” Robin says, winking at her brother Fletcher. “It’s more like a massacre.”

“Hey, Garrett!” Fletcher cries out happily to one of the bodyguards on his team, a handsome African American man with close-shaven hair and a goatee. He’s built like a freaking tank. He looks like bullets would bounce off him. Joshua isn’t taking any chances. “Are we going to let her get away with that?”

“Hell no.” He glances at Astrid with a grin. “Sorry, heck no. Let’s show them how it’s done.” And they go back to playing.

I’m so relieved to see them alive and happy and joking around that I almost start crying all over again.

Astrid leads me aside. Joshua watches us go but doesn’t try to follow.

“You know he escaped, of course,” she says when we’re out of earshot of the others. And I don’t need to ask her who.

“Yes,” I say. “That’s why Joshua came to get me.” I don’t tell her that my being here isn’t voluntary. Why stress her out? She’s been through enough.

“It’s all right,” she tells me. “Micah can’t get to us. Joshua will keep us safe here.”

“Yes. Joshua.” She glances at me. “You two seem like you’re…together. Like everything’s fine. When the police talked to me, though, they told me that he kidnapped you and held you against your will for months.” She looks at me questioningly. “But you would have had him arrested if that were true. He wouldn’t be out here, he wouldn’t be free. And you never said a word about anything like that to me.”

She’s searching my face. She needs reassurance. She needs to know she didn’t just deliver herself and her children into the hands of another monster.

“You and your children are in the safest place on Earth right now,” I tell her, not really answering her question. “If you hadn’t come here, you’d have been at Micah’s mercy. I don’t know whether he’d go after you guys or not, but you’d have been looking over your shoulder every second of the day.”

“He has a grudge against my soon-to-be ex-husband, and he would use us to hurt him,” she says quietly. “And when I called William this morning to warn him that Micah was out, there was no answer. I called the police and told them, but what can they do? They won’t find him in time. The children don’t know yet. They’re furious at their father for getting us involved in this situation, and they don’t want to talk to him, but he is still their father. And I think Micah has him. I don’t even want to think about what’s happening to Reggie right now. I just hope it’s fast.”

Reggie. First time I’ve heard Dr. Barnard’s first name.

I shiver at the thought of what Micah would be doing to a man who held him captive in a mental institution for five and a half years. He doesn’t need to keep Dr. Barnard alive anymore. I pray that he makes things quick, but I don’t think he will.

“Yes,” she says, nodding at the look on my face. “But I’m putting on a happy face for them.”

“I won’t say a word.”

“That Sergeant Ruiz, he was very kind to us. Right after Joshua called to tell me about Micah, he called me as well. Offered to sleep in our guest bedroom and stay with us 24/7 until Micah’s caught. I thanked him, but it wouldn’t have been enough. Not with Micah.”

“No,” I agree, with a shudder. “It wouldn’t. This was the right choice.”

“He wanted to know where we’d be going, but I didn’t tell him, because I know how he feels about Joshua. He seems to think he’s some kind of serial killer.” She shook her head. “He was really worried, so I’m calling him every day to check in. Joshua’s got a blocked line I’ll be calling him from.”

“Sergeant Ruiz is a good man.” I glance at the kids playing basketball. “Let’s go join them, shall we?”

She puts her hand on my arm. “Everything is okay between you and Joshua? Are you…together?”

It’s a mother’s fear speaking. There are too many unanswered questions here for her comfort.

“We have a complicated relationship,” I say, picking my words carefully. “Joshua and Micah had a horrendous childhood, as I’m sure you gathered from Micah’s reaction every time I mentioned their father. It makes Joshua difficult to live with, but…we’re seeing where things go.” None of that was a lie, and it seems to satisfy her. I’ll never tell her the whole truth, because it would just terrify her, and Joshua’s perversity is reserved for me and me alone. She’s in no danger from him.

I sit on the sidelines for a while and watch them playing, until we’re summoned inside for dinner by a very muscular man in a butler’s tuxedo. He’s a butler like I’m a prima ballerina. He’s just like the other men here—ex-military and all lethal. Joshua is taking no chances.

After dinner, Astrid and her children retreat to the guest wing of the house, with several bodyguards accompanying them.

Joshua and I settle into his living room. He leaves me to fetch a bottle of red wine and pours a glass for each of us, and we stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows, at the twinkling stars and the curving crescent of the moon.

“I’m offering ten million dollars for information leading to my brother’s arrest.”

“Ten million?” My jaw actually drops. After he gave millions of dollars to my friends? “You’re going to end up with nothing left.”

“I won’t even notice it’s gone.” He smiles at me teasingly. “Why, Tamara, are you a gold digger? Are you going to run off with someone richer?”

I shrug. “Well, the money was the primary appeal, yes.”

“Funny.” He reaches out and touches my lips with his thumb. “I love your smart mouth. You give me endless reasons to punish you.”

I smile secretly, picturing the way he spanks me, and turn away, sipping the wine and staring out the window at the stars.

But I don’t know what to say next. An uncomfortable silence stretches between us. “I don’t know how to do this,” I tell him. “I don’t know how to spend time with you when it’s like this. When I’m not chained up and spending all my time scheming to escape.”

“I don’t either,” he says, “but we’ll figure it out.”

I find that surprisingly touching. The part of me that wants to hate him is getting weaker and weaker. This is a man who wants me and only me, a man who’d die for me.

Joshua takes a long, slow sip of wine before setting his glass down. “I’m hoping that Charlemagne isn’t on the loose for too long. My brother’s face is all over the news tonight. I made sure of it. I gave an interview by Skype this morning after the news of his escape got out. Not something I enjoyed doing, but it helps get the word out. I can turn on the evening news if you want.”

I shudder. “No. If I never have to see him again, that’ll be too soon for me.” I hug myself. “I guess if he’s caught, I’ll need to testify against him.”

“Yes. I can have my lawyer work with you to prepare you for that.”

I drain half the glass of wine in one gulp, thinking about having to face that bastard in court. Joshua leans forward to refill it, and I see the faint hollows under his eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right?” I ask him.

“Not by the standards of civilized society, no.” He smiles. “But it’s decent of you to ask.”

“It just seems like—”

“I answered you twice.” There’s a hard edge to his voice now, and his eyes are the color of storm clouds threatening a hurricane. I sink back into my chair, stung. Fine. I won’t ask again.

To change the subject, I say, “So, have you identified any candidates for…hunting?”

He glances at me in surprise. “You really don’t have a problem with what I do?”

“Not when you’re cleansing the Earth of the scum, no.” And I mean it.

All the suffering that Astrid and her children and I endured at the hands of Micah can be traced even further back. They can be traced back to Joshua and Micah’s father. An abuser doesn’t hurt just his victims. Some of those victims, forever damaged, will go on to inflict various kinds of pain to a new generation of victims, and then their victims will do the same. And the poison will spread and spread, like an oil spill spreading over clear waters and coating everything it touches with suffocating darkness.

If Joshua’s father had been killed before he could hurt anyone, then countless untold agonies would never have happened.

“I have a list of possibilities. Obviously while my brother had you, everything else was on hold, but I still kept my list. Do you want to look over it with me?”

“Okay,” I say without hesitation, but when he leaves, I feel a moment of doubt.

I’m going to help Joshua pick out someone to kill. I’m going to help him make a decision that will end someone’s life. Can I really go that far? Should I avert my eyes?

No. If I’m willing to accept that Joshua kills people, if I’m willing to be with him despite that, then I can’t separate myself from what he does. Pretending it’s not happening doesn’t give me a Hail Mary pass. I’m every bit as culpable as he is.

When he returns, he opens a document on the laptop and puts it on my lap. I look over the pictures. Joshua’s hands are trembling slightly, but I don’t say anything. If I do, he’ll just deny it and bite my head off.

He starts talking about the men on the computer. I listen to his litany of the things these men do, and I feel faintly ill. Pedophiles, rapists, sadists. Why is there so much evil in the world?

He yawns as he’s talking to me.

“I want you to kill all of them. Immediately,” I say, my stomach quavering.

He gives me a weary, sympathetic smile. “Give it time,” he says. “For now, I can’t leave you. I can’t hunt again until my brother is in prison.”

“Will you be all right? It seems like it’s something you need to do.”

Joshua shrugs. “I’m quite capable of self-denial when it’s necessary. Leaving you is exposing you to unnecessary risk.”

“Couldn’t you send anonymous tips to the police?” I plead. “They’re hurting people.”

He considers that. “If they go to prison, I can’t hunt them. They’d never get what they truly deserve.”

“But if you don’t report them, they’ll continue victimizing people.”

“There’s no guarantee that they’ll even be arrested or convicted, even if I do tip off the cops,” he argues. “The legal system is pathetically inadequate. I am the only sure justice.”

“You’ve got to at least try.”

He frowns, staring into space. “All right,” he says distantly. He yawns again. “As a gift to you, I’ll get to work on that first thing in the morning. And now I’m going to turn in early. Let me show you to your room. It’s right next to mine, in case you need anything.”

“Next to yours?” I say, startled. He’s joking, right?

But he folds up the laptop and leads me to my bedroom, and I see that he means it. He’s actually having me sleep in the room next to his. I’m not sleeping with him.

Why?

He had me sleep in his bedroom after he kidnapped me. But now he claims he wants us to be a real couple, not Master and slave, not jailer and prisoner, and yet he doesn’t even want me in his bed at night?

The only thing I can think of is that he’s back to playing head games—like when he let me leave the hospital without him, because he knew I’d burn for him every minute we were apart. And now that he’s got me again, he wants me to beg to sleep with him.

Well, the hell with that.

Furious, I stalk into my own room and slam the door without looking back.