Ignited
Page 66
I shook my head, reaching out for the table to steady myself.
“He had someone follow you. Follow us. And don’t you know he had a goddamn party when his gopher reported back on the kinds of pictures he’d managed to snag? St. Andrew’s cross. Spreader bars. Flogger. Blindfolds. What do you think, Kat?” he asked, his voice harsh with anger and frustration. “You think your dad wants to see a picture of his little girl with a butt plug?”
I winced and looked away.
“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.” The harshness was gone from his voice, replaced by a soft gentleness that made me want to cry. “But you have to understand.” He drew in a breath. “It’s my fault. I know that. I should have seen it coming. I should have done a better job keeping you safe.”
“No,” I whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
“Hell, yes,” he said, then met my eyes. “I fucked up. But that’s a mistake I intend to remedy right now.”
“Cole, you can’t.”
“The hell I can’t. Muratti’s going to release those pictures, Kat. If I don’t tell him where your dad is, he’s going to spread them far and wide.”
“Oh.” It was the only word I could manage. I swallowed. Sucked in air. “We’re not telling him where my dad is. I’m not painting a target on my father’s back.”
“Well, you know, Muratti’s not entirely unreasonable.” A horrible irony laced his voice. “He said if I release them myself—if I let the whole world see those pictures of you—he’ll let your dad walk. No retribution, no nothing.”
I met his eyes, then hugged myself. Those pictures, out there in the world. My dad would see them. My friends would see them. My private moments—our private moments—tossed out for the gossip hounds.
And there was no telling myself they’d go away. They wouldn’t.
I might not be as much in the public eye as Nikki Fairchild, but I’d go through the same hell. At least her portrait had been art. Taken out of context, these were vile. They were the kind of pictures that would make the rounds on social media. That would get tossed up on YouTube.
This was the kind of crap that lived forever, and with a man like Cole August attached to the gossip, it would live even longer.
These photos would follow me the rest of my life.
And Cole had seen that from the beginning. He’d seen that the only way to protect my privacy was to throw himself back in the muck.
“Cole,” I said, my heart breaking as I slid my arms around him. He stood tense at first, unresponsive. And then he tilted his head so that his forehead pressed against mine and his arms tightened around my waist.
“You weren’t supposed to know any of this. I wanted to keep you out of it. To keep you shielded from it. But I guess I managed to fuck that up, too.”
“Cole, stop,” I said gently.
“I didn’t think you’d end up at Jahn’s,” he continued, and I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me. “I left the envelope there with the stone as a message to Tyler and Evan. So they would understand what happened if I didn’t return. Insurance, you know. Just in case.”
He leaned back so he could look at me. “But I didn’t think it would be a problem. I planned to go there, kill the son of a bitch and any of his flunkies who got in my way, then come back, destroy the folder, and go home to you.”
“Christ, Cole.” I could barely get a word out past the jumble of thoughts in my head. “How the hell could you even be sure that would end it? He might have left another set with someone for insurance against that very thing.”
“Not his style,” Cole said, “so I figured it was a calculated risk. If I was right, you’d be safe. And you’d never even need to know any of this happened.”
“And if you were wrong?”
“Then at least the bastard who did that to you would be rotting in the morgue.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “You’d keep all of that from me? Lie to me?”
“You have no idea how far I’d go to protect you.” He stroked my cheek, his eyes taking me in, as if studying every line, every pore, every atom. “I want his blood, Kat. And I will have it.”
I shook my head, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling inside of me. “You think you have no control, but don’t you see yourself? You are nothing but control right now. You’re practically vibrating your grip is so tight.” I held tight to his hand. “Take it further,” I said. “Take it further by stepping back.”
“Stepping back?”
“You can’t do this, don’t you get that? Kill him and you’re back where you were before. That’s not who you are.”
“I’ll be whatever I have to be to keep you safe.” I could feel the intensity rising in him. A primal, earthy quality, as if he was gearing up for a fight. “I promise you. I can do what’s necessary with no problem whatsoever.”
I ran my fingers through my hair again, searching for an answer. The truth was, I didn’t care if he killed Muratti. From what I knew of the son of a bitch, he deserved to die. But the consequences to Cole scared me to death. “What about giving the land back?”
“Ran that option by the old man. He’s way past wanting the land. All he wants now is his pound of flesh.”
“What about the son?” I asked. “Maybe he can talk to his father and—”
“No,” Cole said firmly. “I did talk to him, and you’re right about Michael. He’s a hell of a lot more reasonable. But it’s Daddy’s show and it’s going to stay Daddy’s show until the old man kicks the bucket.”
“You can’t force that along.”
“Dammit, Kat, I can. I can and I will. Don’t you get it? Don’t you fucking get it? I love you, goddammit,” he said, and the passion in his voice nearly knocked me over.
“I love you, and I will take care of you. I will protect you. I will protect your father. I will goddamn make sure that nothing happens to you—that nothing happens to your father—and that these goddamn photos do not ever—ever—see the light of day.”
He’d pushed away from the table as he spoke and had moved toward me, forcing me backward to the far wall. Now he had me trapped there, a rack of shotguns to my left.
I was caged in his arms, breathing hard, trying to find the magic words to make him stop and back up. To make him think and figure something else out. Because there had to be a way out. Because I couldn’t live like this. Couldn’t live in the nightmare that was crashing down all around me.
“You’re all that matters, Kat. Ilya Muratti sure as hell doesn’t. He’s nothing to us.” He pulled me close and kissed me hard. “Say it, Catalina. Tell me he’s nothing.”
“He’s nothing,” I said, then pulled him roughly back to me. I needed his touch, his hands. I needed it rough and hard and wild.
I had no idea how we would get through this. How we could find an out that wouldn’t destroy him or me, but I knew that we had to. I knew, because we had to be together. Because I had to be the woman in Cole’s arms—and he had to be the man in mine.
“He had someone follow you. Follow us. And don’t you know he had a goddamn party when his gopher reported back on the kinds of pictures he’d managed to snag? St. Andrew’s cross. Spreader bars. Flogger. Blindfolds. What do you think, Kat?” he asked, his voice harsh with anger and frustration. “You think your dad wants to see a picture of his little girl with a butt plug?”
I winced and looked away.
“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.” The harshness was gone from his voice, replaced by a soft gentleness that made me want to cry. “But you have to understand.” He drew in a breath. “It’s my fault. I know that. I should have seen it coming. I should have done a better job keeping you safe.”
“No,” I whispered. “It’s not your fault.”
“Hell, yes,” he said, then met my eyes. “I fucked up. But that’s a mistake I intend to remedy right now.”
“Cole, you can’t.”
“The hell I can’t. Muratti’s going to release those pictures, Kat. If I don’t tell him where your dad is, he’s going to spread them far and wide.”
“Oh.” It was the only word I could manage. I swallowed. Sucked in air. “We’re not telling him where my dad is. I’m not painting a target on my father’s back.”
“Well, you know, Muratti’s not entirely unreasonable.” A horrible irony laced his voice. “He said if I release them myself—if I let the whole world see those pictures of you—he’ll let your dad walk. No retribution, no nothing.”
I met his eyes, then hugged myself. Those pictures, out there in the world. My dad would see them. My friends would see them. My private moments—our private moments—tossed out for the gossip hounds.
And there was no telling myself they’d go away. They wouldn’t.
I might not be as much in the public eye as Nikki Fairchild, but I’d go through the same hell. At least her portrait had been art. Taken out of context, these were vile. They were the kind of pictures that would make the rounds on social media. That would get tossed up on YouTube.
This was the kind of crap that lived forever, and with a man like Cole August attached to the gossip, it would live even longer.
These photos would follow me the rest of my life.
And Cole had seen that from the beginning. He’d seen that the only way to protect my privacy was to throw himself back in the muck.
“Cole,” I said, my heart breaking as I slid my arms around him. He stood tense at first, unresponsive. And then he tilted his head so that his forehead pressed against mine and his arms tightened around my waist.
“You weren’t supposed to know any of this. I wanted to keep you out of it. To keep you shielded from it. But I guess I managed to fuck that up, too.”
“Cole, stop,” I said gently.
“I didn’t think you’d end up at Jahn’s,” he continued, and I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me. “I left the envelope there with the stone as a message to Tyler and Evan. So they would understand what happened if I didn’t return. Insurance, you know. Just in case.”
He leaned back so he could look at me. “But I didn’t think it would be a problem. I planned to go there, kill the son of a bitch and any of his flunkies who got in my way, then come back, destroy the folder, and go home to you.”
“Christ, Cole.” I could barely get a word out past the jumble of thoughts in my head. “How the hell could you even be sure that would end it? He might have left another set with someone for insurance against that very thing.”
“Not his style,” Cole said, “so I figured it was a calculated risk. If I was right, you’d be safe. And you’d never even need to know any of this happened.”
“And if you were wrong?”
“Then at least the bastard who did that to you would be rotting in the morgue.”
I raked my fingers through my hair. “You’d keep all of that from me? Lie to me?”
“You have no idea how far I’d go to protect you.” He stroked my cheek, his eyes taking me in, as if studying every line, every pore, every atom. “I want his blood, Kat. And I will have it.”
I shook my head, overwhelmed by the emotions swirling inside of me. “You think you have no control, but don’t you see yourself? You are nothing but control right now. You’re practically vibrating your grip is so tight.” I held tight to his hand. “Take it further,” I said. “Take it further by stepping back.”
“Stepping back?”
“You can’t do this, don’t you get that? Kill him and you’re back where you were before. That’s not who you are.”
“I’ll be whatever I have to be to keep you safe.” I could feel the intensity rising in him. A primal, earthy quality, as if he was gearing up for a fight. “I promise you. I can do what’s necessary with no problem whatsoever.”
I ran my fingers through my hair again, searching for an answer. The truth was, I didn’t care if he killed Muratti. From what I knew of the son of a bitch, he deserved to die. But the consequences to Cole scared me to death. “What about giving the land back?”
“Ran that option by the old man. He’s way past wanting the land. All he wants now is his pound of flesh.”
“What about the son?” I asked. “Maybe he can talk to his father and—”
“No,” Cole said firmly. “I did talk to him, and you’re right about Michael. He’s a hell of a lot more reasonable. But it’s Daddy’s show and it’s going to stay Daddy’s show until the old man kicks the bucket.”
“You can’t force that along.”
“Dammit, Kat, I can. I can and I will. Don’t you get it? Don’t you fucking get it? I love you, goddammit,” he said, and the passion in his voice nearly knocked me over.
“I love you, and I will take care of you. I will protect you. I will protect your father. I will goddamn make sure that nothing happens to you—that nothing happens to your father—and that these goddamn photos do not ever—ever—see the light of day.”
He’d pushed away from the table as he spoke and had moved toward me, forcing me backward to the far wall. Now he had me trapped there, a rack of shotguns to my left.
I was caged in his arms, breathing hard, trying to find the magic words to make him stop and back up. To make him think and figure something else out. Because there had to be a way out. Because I couldn’t live like this. Couldn’t live in the nightmare that was crashing down all around me.
“You’re all that matters, Kat. Ilya Muratti sure as hell doesn’t. He’s nothing to us.” He pulled me close and kissed me hard. “Say it, Catalina. Tell me he’s nothing.”
“He’s nothing,” I said, then pulled him roughly back to me. I needed his touch, his hands. I needed it rough and hard and wild.
I had no idea how we would get through this. How we could find an out that wouldn’t destroy him or me, but I knew that we had to. I knew, because we had to be together. Because I had to be the woman in Cole’s arms—and he had to be the man in mine.
