A Wicked Song (Brilliance Trilogy Book 2) Page 2
“You don’t need to come in, Alexander,” I say quickly. “I appreciate the help, but I really am fine.”
“I’d be a total asshole to leave you here alone. In fact, in the dictionary next to the word ‘asshole’ would be my name. I’m not leaving you alone. Now go before you lose any more blood. I’ll be right there.”
I could argue over him staying, but he’s right, I’m growing concerned about how much blood is on the towel. I reach for my belt and I can’t get it unhooked. He quickly comes to my aid once more, unlatching it before he orders, “Stay where you are.” He shifts the car into park. “I’ll come and get your door.” He unhooks his own belt and opens his door. I reach for mine with my good hand and quickly shove it open.
I’m on my feet, the piercing cold weathering my cheeks by the time he reaches my side of the car, but my head spins and I sway. I reach for support and end up grabbing Alexander, but there is nothing romantic about this moment. “Oh God,” I murmur, as my stomach rolls. “I feel sick.”
“Because you’ve lost blood.” He wraps his arm around me and I don’t have the strength to push him away as he adds, “Come on. I’ll get you inside.”
“I’m fine. Your car. You need to—”
“It’s fine,” he says, and he’s hauling me forward, the spice of his cologne permeating my nostrils, but it’s pungent, it’s too much. I think that’s my problem with Alexander. He’s too much. He’s that beast, and yet he is being so kind that I wonder why I feel these things about him.
Double glass doors open and we head inside a typical doctor’s office with white floors, vacant steel armed chairs, and a built-in reception desk. The fifty-something woman with spiky blonde hair behind the counter is focused on me and her eyes go wide.
“Oh my,” she says, before she calls out, “Ellen!”
Ellen or I assume it’s Ellen, rushes out to the lobby, and says, “Oh my,” as well.
Ellen is wearing pink scrubs, her curling brown hair wild around her heart-shaped face. She’s tiny but there’s something fierce about her that I find appealing. The next five minutes are a whirlwind but the paperwork is discussed, and Ellen is the one with her arm around me now, and it’s remarkably more comfortable despite both our petite sizes. “Do you want your guest to come back with you?” she asks.
“No,” I say, twisting around to face Alexander. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Thank you so much.”
His jaw sets stubbornly. “I’ll wait.” He motions to the chairs. “I’ll move my car and then I’ll sit. I’ll be right here.”
My cellphone buzzes with a call, and of course, I know, without looking, that it’s Kace—almost as if he’s chosen this moment purposely to insinuate himself between me and Alexander. But then, that’s not difficult when he’s the reason I’m all but destroyed right now.
I turn away from Alexander, and it’s not long before I’m sitting in a room with a doctor, a man I guess to be in his thirties, sporting a shaved head and a pleasant bedside manner. “You’re lucky,” he says after pulling a piece of wood from my hand and covering my hand with a bandage to apply pressure. “You were close to a nerve. The wood was allowing the bleed to continue. And you almost took the palm of your hand off. We’re going to stitch you up, get you a tetanus shot and some pain meds, and get you home.”
“Thank you,” I say and it’s all I can manage. I just want to go home. Now.
Half an hour later, I have stitches, a shot, a warning that my arm might hurt and/or feel heavy as a result of the shot, and two prescriptions. Thankfully there’s a pharmacy in the clinic and Ellen heads off to have my meds filled for me.
While I wait, I check my text messages to find several from Kace. I’m worried. Aria, answer. Please. See? I can use good manners, too. Baby. Please.
I’d laugh but that’s what he wants, to seduce me all over again with charm and his brand of perfection.
There’s a knock on the door and the front desk attendant, who I now know to be Lynn, pokes her head into the room. “You have a visitor who wants to join you.”
My brows furrow. “I have what?” Even as I ask the question, my heart starts to race and I don’t give her time to answer. “Who?” I ask because it can’t be him. How would he know where to find me?
But I know it is. I know even before she says, “He says his name is Kace August.”
CHAPTER TWO
Kace is here.
How can Kace be here?
But even as my mind asks that question, I know the answer. He’s been having me followed since before we ever met. He’s still having me followed.
Lynn clears her throat. “Should I bring Mr. August, or ah, Kace—he said to call him Kace—should I bring him back?”
“No,” I say quickly. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”
“Okay, but for the record, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen two such good-looking men in one place, and well, I’m not sure they can survive in the same room much longer.”
My brows furrow. “Alexander’s still here?” I ask because the truth is, I wasn’t sure he’d have the wait in him.
“He is, and at the risk of being out of line, I might add, to the extreme displeasure of Kace.” She winks and disappears, shutting the door behind her.
I press my good hand to my face. I don’t know what to do. He probably doesn’t even know that I’ve found those photos yet. Suddenly pain becomes anger. He doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t get to use me and manipulate me any longer. I slide off the exam table and walk toward the door. Ellen enters at the same moment I’m about to exit, which successfully defuses my anger.
“You’re all set,” she says, indicating the bag in her hand. “You already took an antibiotic and a pain pill. You should take another in four hours.” She hands me the bag. “And remember, some people do get a heavy, achy feeling in their arm from the shot. That’s why we put it in the same arm as your injury. That way only one side will be affected.”
“Thank you, Ellen. You really are wonderful.”
“I think you’re the one who’s wonderful, judging by the fan club you have in the lobby.” She wiggles an eyebrow. “Hubba hubba.” She backs up into the hallway to allow my exit.
Two men who want something from me do not equal a fan club, I think. I have never needed to be alone as much as I do right now. With my anger tamped down, I exit the room and hurry toward the lobby, but pause at the door, drawing a deep breath, steeling myself for all things Kace August. As if that has any chance of working.
I push open the door and enter the lobby.
Alexander is in a chair, his head back, eyes shut. Kace is literally at the center of the room, pacing, his back to me at present, a rock god in denim, biker boots, and his favorite tan leather jacket. He runs a hand through his longish dark hair, obviously frustrated, one might even think worried, and perhaps he is, just for the wrong reasons. As if they both sense my presence, Kace turns abruptly in my direction, and Alexander bolts to his feet. But it’s Kace I’m focused on. Kace whose blue-eyed stare is locked on me. Kace who fills me up with so many emotions that they are now a waterfall, crashing to the floor beneath my feet.
He closes the space between me and him and I tell myself to back away, but my feet won’t move. They have grown limbs and taken root right here in the tiled the floor.
He stops in front of me, and one of his talented hands is instantly cupping my face, the other branding my hip. His head lowers intimately, huddling us together, two people in a room with others, but somehow alone. “My God, woman,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly. “I’ve been worried. So damn worried. What happened? How are you?”
He smells like man and musk, like fresh grass in the sunshine on a rainy day, like heaven in the midst of hell. He feels like the comfort of home and the fire of desire. For just a moment, I am lost in all of those things. I am lost in him.
“How did you find me?”
“I went to two hospitals, three
minor emergencies, and your apartment first. I just didn’t give up. What is going on with you?”
“You haven’t been home, have you?”
“No. Why would I be there when you’re here?” He glances down at my injured hand. “How bad is it?”
He always says the right things, does the right things, but everything right with him is wrong, I remind myself. I shove away from him and step back. “Go home, Kace. You’ll figure out why I wasn’t taking your calls when you get there.”
“Did he do this to you?” Alexander demands, stepping inside the invisible circle that shunned the rest of the room just moments before.
Kace doesn’t even look at him but warns, “Don’t push me, Alexander.”
“Why? You going to hurt me like you hurt her?”
I whirl on Alexander. “He didn’t do this to me. Please don’t start a fight with Kace.” I turn back to Kace and add, “I know everything, Kace.”
“And this everything you think you know, is that why you’re with him?”
“He showed up at the apartment and I needed help.”
“Which should have been me,” he says.
“I know, Kace.”
“Come with me, Aria,” Alexander urges. “I’ll take you home.”
Kace steps closer to me, and this time, I step back at the same time. “Don’t,” I warn, pointing at him.
He lowers his voice. “Whatever you think you know,” he says, “you don’t. I promise you, baby. Talk to me. Let me explain.”
I can feel him pulling me under and it’s terrifying how easily I could drown in this man, quite literally. “We have nothing to talk about.”
“And if you’re wrong?” he challenges. “If you don’t know what you think you know?”
“I do. I know what I know, Kace.”
“And if there is even a small chance you don’t?” he counters. “Is he how you really want to handle this? By inserting Alexander in the middle of us?”
I can’t breathe for the emotion that has now balled in my chest. I should walk away. Why am I not just walking away?
“I’m crazy about you, Aria,” he continues. “And we are good together. You know that. I know you know.”
“He’s a player,” Alexander snaps. “Don’t let him suck you in.”
“You and me, baby,” Kace says softly, his voice like lights dancing on a night ocean, the only thing that stops a spiral into darkness. “Don’t just throw us away.”
Us.
That’s the word that gets me.
Us.
Don’t just throw us away. I can’t just throw us away. It’s dangerous, I know, but I have to hear what he has to say. I need to hear what he has to say.
I turn to Alexander. “Thank you for helping me. I need to stay with Kace right now. I’ll call you tomorrow. I do believe I owe you.”
He cuts his gaze to Kace and then back to me. “Are you sure?”
“I am,” I say. “But truly, thank you.”
He hesitates, and then says, “I don’t like leaving you.”
“And you have been a gentleman, but I’m fine. I promise.”
He makes a low growling sound and curses under his breath. “You have my number. Call me if you need me. Don’t hesitate, no matter the time.”
I nod. “Again, thank you.”
His lips thin and instead of just leaving, he rotates to Kace. “I better not find out you did this.”
Calm, cool Kace August isn’t as calm and cool at all. He steps toward Alexander, and I rotate, placing myself in between them, dropping my medication bag, my one good hand flattening on Kace’s chest. “No. Please. I’m begging you.”
His jaw tics and I twist around to face Alexander. “Go. Now. Before this becomes something we all regret.”
He scowls and glares at Kace.
“Alexander!” I snap.
“I’m going,” he replies, holding up his hands. “I’m going.” He turns on his heel and marches toward the door.
Kace grips my shoulders and he leans in, his lips brushing my neck. “Let’s get you home.”
Home.
That word guts me. I don’t have a home right now. Nothing about anything in my life feels like home right now except Kace, and he’s betrayed me. He scoops up my medication bag and wraps his arm around me, setting us in motion, his big body a shelter I would have cocooned inside just hours earlier. Now it frightens me how good he feels, how right he feels, how readily I want to trust him, and forget those photos.
The double glass doors open and we exit into a cold, harsh wind, but the cold is nothing to me right now. Not when I can feel myself suffocating in his perfection, and what feels like our bond. A bond that might not even be real.
Stepping onto the sidewalk, he motions left and we start walking. I shiver and Kace halts us, shrugging out of his jacket and wrapping it around me, the perfect gentleman that was stalking me before we met. He grips the lapels. “Better?”
“No. Nothing is better,” I assure him. “I made Alexander go away, but I’m not going with you, Kace.”
A man and a woman walk past us, and I try to twist away from him. I try and fail. The jacket is now my prison, leverage he uses to hold me in place, as he murmurs, “Don’t do this.”
“You did this,” I bite out.
Before I know Kace’s intent, he’s backing me up. “What are you doing?”
By the time I finish the question, we’re inside an alcove out of the wind, under a dim light, beside a doorway of some sort. “Trying not to end up in a tabloid tomorrow,” he says. “They were following me today. Let’s go to one of our apartments where it’s warm and private.”
“I don’t care about the cold. I don’t care if you freeze. I don’t care if I freeze.” I shrug out of the jacket and let it fall to the ground.
Kace grabs the jacket and pulls it back around me. “I care,” he says. “I care if you’re cold. I care about everything to do with you, Aria.” His voice is soft velvet and a rough growl all at once.
Emotion wells in my chest. “I know, Kace. I keep telling you that I know. I know you know who I am. I found the file you have of me and my family. I saw the photos of Gio.”
He doesn’t even consider denial. His answer is quick, sure. “Aria Stradivari,” he says. “Yes. I know who you are.”
“You want the formula to make the violins.”
“I want you.”
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes, but not for the reason you think. We met years ago, Aria. I recognized you when you showed up at the table to talk to Mark. I thought you remembered that meeting, but I soon found out that you didn’t.”
“We met? What are you talking about?”
“We were kids. You were eleven, by my present calculations, and I was seventeen. Meeting your father and touring your family factory was one of the biggest thrills of my young life.”
My mind ticks back in time and yes, yes there is a vague memory of a good-looking boy who played the violin. “Why wouldn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Two reasons. I knew your family had disappeared. I knew if you were alive there was a reason you were hiding and using another name. And we were young when we met. I wanted to be sure I was even correct. I had Walker do some digging.”
My heart surges. “Digging is not good, Kace.” My eyes go wide and I halt any reply. “No, wait. You had photos of Gio. Gio was gone when I met you.”
“They’re from your building’s security footage. They’re time and date stamped. I can prove it.”
“Why hack my security system?”
“Gio was older when we met. I knew if I saw pictures of him, I’d confirm it really was both of you.”
“In other words, you already knew he lived with me.”
“Aria—”
“You let me believe everything I told you was fresh and new.”
“It was. It was you telling me.” His hands settle possessively a
t my waist. “Baby, I didn’t want to scare you off. I damn sure didn’t want you to run or disappear on me.”
“You want the formula,” I accuse.
“I want you,” he repeats.
“I don’t have the formula.”
“I don’t care about the damn formula, Aria.” Exasperation touches his voice.
“How do I know that?”
A low, frustrated sound escapes his lips and he drops the medication bag, and spikes fingers into my hair, a low curse escaping his lips. His eyes meet mine, and the depth of the emotion he then spikes in me steals my breath. Before I can catch it again, he’s breathing for me. His mouth slants over my mouth, his tongue licking a wicked, seductive note against my tongue. And despite my injured hand and my burdened heart, I melt the way I always melt for this man. I melt and I moan, and when he tears his mouth from mine, I am panting.
“That is how you know,” he declares. “We are connected, you and me. We both feel it.”
“All that says is that I want you and that I have the potential to be foolish because of that desire, but I won’t live up to that potential, Kace.”
“How do I know you aren’t after my money?”
I blanch. “Because I’m not. You know I’m not.”
“Can you prove it?”
“You know I’m not,” I repeat.
His hands come down on my shoulders and he pulls back to look at me as he says, “I do know you, but that still requires me trusting you and I’ve had plenty of reasons in my life not to offer you that trust. Reasons you don’t know. Many reasons, Aria. Many betrayals. But I give you my trust anyway. I’m not after the formula, but all I have to offer is my word. You have to decide if you trust me.”
My hand settles on his chest, and his heart beats a rowdy song beneath my palm. “I’m very confused right now,” I confess, and it’s as honest as I have ever been with him or me. “And my head is spinning.”
His hand covers my hand on his chest. “Then let me take care of you. Let me take you home.”
There is a library filled with books the size of all the reasons I should say no, but even as I have that thought, he says, “Don’t say no.”