Chapter 20
Chase escorted Kia into the lobby of her apartment building, his hand riding low on her back as they moved to the elevator.
He was aware of that glimmer of amusement and confusion that had filled her eyes at breakfast, that resisted his determination to get her to pack her bags and move in with him.
He didn't like it. Realizing she didn't trust him bothered him. He could feel the sexual tension building inside him, as she continued to defy him on a level he hadn't known existed.
He wanted her in his bed. His bed. He wanted her in the home he had been building for years, close to his brother, close to family. Where she would be safe. Where he could try to beat the odds and never lose her as he had lost his parents, as he had nearly lost his brother.
She didn't trust him enough to move in with him.
Damn her. He had no intention of walking away from her now and she should know it. At this rate, he would be the one moving in with her, and though he liked her apartment fine, something screamed out at him that she liked his a hell of a lot better.
"You know you're being stubborn just for the sake of being stubborn," he told her as the elevator made its ascent.
"I'm certain that's what you believe, Chase," she told him calmly.
Her tone had remained calm through every argument he had presented her with.
"Kia, if you don't stop using that patronizing little tone with me, we're going to have problems here," he told her, staring down at her, wishing he could be angry with her.
A part of him was amazed at how easily she had dealt with first his male outrage, and then his brooding silence through breakfast, and finally his arguments on the drive to her apartment.
"I haven't begun patronizing you yet," she pointed out, a hint of a smile curving her lips. "I can begin early if you like. I was waiting until you began pouting for that one."
"I do not pout."
"Of course you don't, Chase." Now that was patronizing.
He grunted at the amusement in her gaze. "It's going to be damned inconvenient moving my stuff into your place," he informed her.
"You haven't received an invitation," she pointed out.
"I haven't received a refusal either," he growled. "And if I think I'm going to hear one, you may not be able to speak for a very long time, Kia."
"You'll gag me?" Her brow arched.
"The idea has its merits, but I thought more along the lines of something more pleasurable."
The elevator doors slid open. Chase kept his hand at her back, tensing as they started down the hall.
Something was off. He could feel it. He stared around the narrow hallway, the closed doors leading to her corner apartment.
The security cameras followed their progress, and for a moment, he couldn't pinpoint exactly what bothered him. It took precious seconds before his hand tightened on her hip and he pulled her to a stop just before reaching her door.
"Stop." The command was low, his tone intense enough that even he nearly winced.
Kia flinched and stared up at him before glancing around the hallway.
"Kia, your door is open."
Chase stared at the display on the security pad by her door. It was active, and appeared normal. He saw the slightest crack at the joint. The door hadn't closed firmly.
"It should be closed." Her voice was whisper soft, filled with trepidation, as he moved her back quickly. "I always check the door, Chase."
He knew that. Kia was a grown woman, well aware of the dangers of leaving doors open, of not watching out for herself.
He continued to pull her back until they reached a turn in the hall that led to the other side of the building. With the protection of the wall between them and her apartment door he jerked his cell phone from his hip and hit the speed dial.
"Hey, bro, I'm leaving Ian's. Where are you?" Chase heard something in his brother's voice, some knowledge, a sense of the bond they had once shared as boys.
"Kia's apartment. Door's open, security's been jacked. I'm calling Detective Allen but I need you here."
"It's going to take me at least twenty," Cameron informed him briskly, obviously moving at a fast pace. "Are you secure?"
"As possible," he grunted. "I want to watch the door, but the only cover we have is the bend in the hall. I doubt that whoever got in is still there, but I want this covered, and I want Allen checking for prints."
Carl Allen, a detective who had also been given membership into the club years before, was the only one Chase trusted at this point. After the fiasco that summer, Moriah's death and Carl's efforts to cover the fact that Chase had fired the death-dealing bullet, Chase knew he could trust him to cover this as well.
"Get him there." A car door slammed at Cameron's end. "Ian's with me, and I'm putting a call in to Khalid. They share ownership of the building and can make certain everything goes smooth for Allen as well as Kia if there's any trouble. Stay in place, we'll be right there."
"Twenty isn't 'right there', brother," Chase grunted. "Allen will be here in less. I'll let his men enter before assessing the damage. Get your ass here, though. I don't know yet what we're looking at."
He cut the call off, then hit Detective Allen's number.
"Allen here." The detective answered on the first ring.
"It's Falladay. I need you at Kia Rutherford's apartment." He gave the detective the name and address of the building. "Bring some men with you.
Someone's tampered with the security and left her door open."
"Did you enter?"
"I'm not stupid," he snapped back. "She was mugged a week ago, but the locks and key code were changed that night. Something's not right here, Carl."
"We're headed your way," Carl told him. "You caught me at the office. I have a team coming in. We'll be there in about five minutes. Stay away from the door and wait where you are."
"We're on her floor at the corner of the hall, to the left of the elevators."
"Got it. In five."
Chase disconnected the call before glancing down at Kia's pale face. She was staring back at him, the same knowledge in her eyes that he felt burrowing through his brain.
"It wasn't a mugging, was it?" she whispered past lips that had gone nearly as pale as her face.
"We don't know that yet, Kia."
"They took my purse." She shook her head. "I didn't think I should have had the locks changed immediately."
"Ian took care of it," he said. "The pass code to your security was changed as well as your locks the night it happened. Whoever did this did it after they were changed."
"But how?" She stared up at him, fear in her eyes now.
That fear enraged him. It had him wrapping his arms around her, pulling her close, and wishing he'd brought a weapon with him.
He would be better prepared in the future, he promised himself.
He should have learned his lesson last summer. He had trusted Moriah and cared for her, and she had nearly killed Cameron and Jaci.
"I don't know how, baby." He held her tight.
"Why would anyone want to hurt me?"
Drew. Chase knew of only one person who would want to hurt her, who had any reason to be angry at her.
Kia tried to force back the shudders that worked through her body as she stared up at Chase's face. His expression was pure, murderous savagery. She had never seen anything so dark, so vengeful, on anyone's face.
"Chase, I haven't done anything to make anyone want to hurt me."
"Drew." The word passed his lips like a curse.
She shook her head. "Drew wouldn't do this."
"He hit you before, Kia. He nearly raped you before you threw him out.
Don't tell me he wouldn't do this." Fury lined his expression, filled his eyes.
"Chase, he doesn't have this in him." She swallowed tightly, fear filling her. "To hit, yes. To be the a*shole of the decade, certainly. But Drew wouldn't kill."
"Don't defend him to me." His hand rested on the back of her neck as he held her in place. "Damn you, Kia. He'd destroy you if he had the chance and you stand here defending him to me?"
"I'm not defending him." She fought to keep back tears. "I'm trying to keep you from making a horrible mistake, Chase. There's murder in your eyes, and it's directed to the wrong person. Drew wouldn't try to harm me like this.
He'd confront me, he'd hit me, he'd humiliate me. But he wouldn't try to kill me."
And whoever had hit her a few nights before had attempted to do much more damage than simply stealing her purse, or hurting her. She could feel it.
The knowledge of it was sinking into her bones.
Chase's lips thinned as he stared down at her.
"If I find out it was him, he'll pay for it, Kia."
"As long as you wait on the proof." She wouldn't ask for more; she knew it would do no good.
The darkness she glimpsed inside Chase went deeper than just sex. It went far deeper than his sensuality. It was at the core of him, and she knew on an instinctive level that it would never stay silent should anything or anyone Chase claimed be threatened.
She laid her head against his chest, accepting that about him. She had to accept him as he was; she always had. She had always known there were things about Chase that would never be comfortable.
The sound of the elevator sliding to a stop had her flinching at the sudden sound. Chase held her close to his side as she tried to pull away. He peered around the bend in the hall as Detective Allen and several officers stepped out.
"Carl." He wrapped his arm around Kia's waist and drew her with him as the short, hard-eyed detective stepped into the elegant hall. "Her apartment's the last one on the right, corner apartment." Chase nodded to the door.
"Jimmy, get started." Carl motioned the uniformed officer behind him toward the door. "I want prints first. Do a thorough sweep."
The dark-haired officer nodded quickly before he tightened his grip on the case he carried and headed for the door.
"Matt, check that security pad when he's done," Carl ordered another man. "I want to know how they got in."
"Key code and locks were changed on that door the night Kia was mugged outside the building," Chase informed him. "She's been with me ever since."
Carl Allen's brown eyes turned to her. He was a little portly, his expression a bit hangdog. His eyes were hard, but beneath that hardness, Kia convinced herself, she glimpsed compassion.
He had taken her statement in the hospital before Chase had taken her home with him the night of the attack.
"You doing okay, Ms. Rutherford?" That hint of compassion slipped into his voice. Maybe she hadn't imagined it.
She nodded slowly, as Chase pulled her more firmly to his side.
"I'm fine, thank you, Detective."
He nodded and turned back to Chase. "Do we have a situation here?"
Chase shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of, Carl. I have no idea what the hell is going on here."
Carl tugged at the waistband of his slacks before pushing his fingers through his thinning hair and glancing back at the door. "Okay then, let's go see what we have. Don't touch anything, don't get in the way."
They moved to the apartment as the officers moved back, storing the prints they had taken from the security pad and the door. As they neared, Carl nodded to one of the men, and he pushed the door open slowly.
Kia stepped inside behind them. Her heart expanded in her chest, nearly blocking her ability to breath. Complete horror filled every cell of her body as she stared at the entry, living room, and open kitchen.
It was destroyed. The flat-screen television on the wall had been smashed, her couch slashed until it was less than ribbons of stuffing and upholstery. Red paint streaked the walls and floor; at least, it smelled like paint, but it looked like blood. And the words DIE BITCH were spelled out on the wall of windows that led to her balcony.
She was vaguely aware of Chase cursing at her side. All she could feel was the complete and utter horror racing through her.
DIE BITCH. In big letters, like blood, covering the windows. Everything was trashed. There was nothing salvageable.
"Kia, let me get you out of here." Chase's arm tightened around her as she tried to move through the rest of the house.
She shook her head and moved slowly through the rooms.
Her bedroom door was open, and she could already see the destruction there. Once she entered the room, she saw it was worse.
Her clothes were destroyed. The walk-in closet was filled with ripped and shredded cloth. Shoes were cut apart, boots sliced and purses ripped.
Lingerie spilled from dresser drawers along with gowns and silken robes and more casual clothing. All ripped and torn, destroyed.
Her jewelry box was open. Gold chains were broken. On the dresser it appeared as though the rings themselves had been beaten with a hammer.
Gems were in fragments, the bands curled.
Everything she had owned was gone. And this time, on the wall over her bed, the word WHORE was emblazoned in red.
She moved into the bathroom. The smell of perfumes and makeup still strong. Destroyed. It was all destroyed. Five years of her life shredded and ground to dust.
She was barely aware of the tears that fell from her eyes as she glimpsed the little teddy bear that had been tossed in the tub, shredded. She had brought it from home. She'd had it since she was a baby. The first gift her father had bought her.
She shook her head as she stared at that pathetic little bear. "Who would want to do this to me?" she whispered, her lips numb, shock seeping into her as she stared up at Chase. "Who would want to? Drew couldn't, he wouldn't do this." Chase grimaced. His eyes were like ice, his expression savage. "I don't know, baby, but I'll find out." He pulled her against him, holding her close to the warmth of his body. "I promise I'll find out."
She could barely feel his warmth now. She felt frozen, inside and out, felt as though something vital had been stripped out of her.
"I'm getting you out of here." He pulled her from the bathroom, keeping her against him, moving her quickly through the apartment. "I'll get someone in here once the police are finished, and we'll get it cleaned up."
She shook her head.
"Don't argue with me." He turned to her, gripping her arms, his stare fierce, his expression so determined now that she knew better than to argue.
"You can't stay here, Kia. And I'll be damned if you'll stay anywhere else but with me. Do you understand me?"
She stared up at him helplessly. She didn't want to be anywhere else.
Right now, she knew anywhere else would be terrifying.
She nodded slowly. She couldn't argue with him; she didn't want to argue with him. She wanted to go home with him, hide in his arms, and pretend this hadn't happened until she could get a handle on the fear that sparked inside her.
"Let's go. Cam's downstairs with Ian and Khalid checking the security tapes. With any luck, we'll get the bastard."
There was no luck that day.
Kia sat on a small upholstered bench in the hallway, several other residents of the apartment building looking on curiously as uniformed officers moved from the elevator to the apartment and back, packing samples taken from it. Carl Allen stood with Chase, Cameron, Ian, and Khalid in front of her.
The security tapes were missing, Cameron reported. A full three hours'
worth of auto-saved discs were missing from the security office where the equipment was held.
"Check Drew Stanton's whereabouts first," Chase was telling the detective. "He's her ex-husband and he's one of Rutherford's security experts.
He maintains and installs all their security software for their offices and their warehouses."
There was no point in arguing further with Chase. A small part of Kia admitted she was afraid that perhaps Drew had been angry enough to do this.
She hadn't seen it, though. Drew had a pattern to his anger, and he hadn't shown an escalation into rage.
Detective Allen had his own electronics investigator in there now, she heard him report. And still, she couldn't figure out why this has happened.
"Kia? Little one?" Khalid knelt in front of her as Chase and Cameron talked, only a few feet away from her. "You should let Chase take you back to the apartment. Get drunk. Get mad."
He touched her hands where they lay folded in her lap.
"My limo is just outside," he told her. "Fully stocked. You can drink until you get there."
She stared into his black eyes and sniffed at the tears that began to run down her face again.
His expression creased painfully. Reaching into his suit jacket he pulled free a handkerchief and wiped her eyes gently.
"Ah, little one, I would make this all better if I could." His eyes were filled with anger.
Kia shook her head before taking the handkerchief he pressed into her fingers."I'm okay." She cleared her throat, aware of Chase watching her now, concern heavy in his face. "I'll be okay."
It was just an apartment. They were just things. She was okay, her parents were okay, and Chase was okay. Things could be replaced. But they were her things. Five years of memories and what little comfort she had been able to draw from them during the two years she had forced herself to withdraw from her earlier life.
"Carl, I need to get her out of here," Chase said to the detective standing at his side. "She's had it."
Carl nodded. "We're almost done here. I'll let you know when you can get a cleaning crew in, but I want to wait and see what the lab comes up with, make sure they don't need anything else before I release it."
"If you need her, you know where she'll be." Chase nodded.
She would be in his home, in his bed. She would be safe. He was going to make damned certain of it.
As he turned back to her, Khalid rose from in front of her, shoving his hands in his slacks as he watched her straighten shakily from the bench.
She hated this. Hated feeling helpless and endangered. She had never felt endangered in her entire life. Not like this. And the feeling was threatening the last shreds of her control.
"Let's get you home," he said, his voice tight. "Cameron, Jaci, and Khalid will be with you for a while. I have a few things I have to take care of."
Kia paused, knowing instinctively what those few things were, and she wasn't having it.
"Chase." She finally shook her head again as she fought to make sense of everything. "Drew wasn't involved with this. If you go after him yourself, I'll walk out of that apartment of yours so fast it will make your head spin. Do you understand me?"
His eyes narrowed on her. "I'll take care of this, Kia."
"Do you understand me?" She stared back at him. "If you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me as well. You'll get proof. You won't handle this like some Western gunslinger intent on revenge. Are we clear?"
She watched the rage move, lightning-fast, through his gaze before resignation darkened the icy-green color of his eyes.
"I'm getting damned tired of you defending him," he burst out.
"And I'm getting damned tired of worrying about having his broken neck on your conscience," she snapped right back. "And don't you dare try to pretend it wouldn't affect you, Chase. Especially if you found out he was innocent."
"Do I look stupid?" The edge of silky danger in his voice had her shaking her head slowly.
"No, but you do look very very angry, Chase. And if you confront Drew now, you won't be confronting him over this." She waved her hand to the apartment across from her. "You would be confronting him over the past. And that I simply won't have."
He watched them leave the building. The way Falladay enclosed Kia among him, Khalid, and Khalid's chauffeur bodyguard.
Ian Sinclair and Cameron were behind them. All moved into the limo except Sinclair. He got into Chase's car and the two vehicles moved out together.
She was alive. He had known she was alive for the past week, and he still wasn't certain how he felt about it. Was he glad or sad? Happy or angry that she had survived?
There were so many emotions he couldn't make sense of and so much pain filling his soul.
He was out of control, and he knew it. He could feel it rising and ebbing, keeping him off balance as the rage obliterated all the gentleness he had once thought he possessed.
There was so much pain inside him. It was bleak and ugly, a black stain across his soul that he couldn't wipe clean.
He had lost everything. Lost everything that ever meant anything to him, and now he was losing his wife as well. His cherished wife. How he loved her. Cherished her. And along with everything else that Falladay had taken away from him, he was losing that as well.
He had tried to hold on. Hold on to his beliefs and the control he had once possessed. Now he felt uncertain, out of control, and enraged. Chase had destroyed everything, and now he was benefiting from that destruction.
He couldn't allow that.
It was his fault Kia was still with that bastard. If he hadn't pulled back at the last second when he slammed the butt of his gun to her head, she would have been dead. If he had just fired the gun as he had originally intended, she would have certainly been dead.
But at the last moment, grief had overwhelmed him. Such sorrowful, pain-filled grief, that he had pulled back.
The next time, he would make certain he didn't pull back. Chase had to realize what it was like to lose everything, to be destroyed as only a man can be destroyed. It was just so sad Kia had to pay the price for the lesson Falladay had coming.
Sweet Kia. She should have remained faithful. If only she had just remained faithful, been the wife she should have been, and stayed away from Falladay. Everything would have been okay then. She wouldn't have to be hurt or frightened.
How sad.
He breathed out a small, weary sigh and maneuvered his car onto the street, heading away from the direction the others had taken.
He had been watching for her, waiting for her to return home. He had wanted her to see. Wanted her to save herself by distancing herself from Falladay. But she hadn't. She was with him, and she would remain with him.
He had failed the first time, but he knew he wouldn't fail the next time. It was planned. Everything would go smoothly and he would stare her in the eye and pull the trigger. He would watch the life leave her eyes, and in that death Falladay would know how it felt to lose everything.
To hurt, every day. To ache. To dream of days when all had been lush and filled with life and happiness. He would know the agony of reality, the loss and the certainty that he had marked her for death.
Vengeance, It was going to be his. And, he promised himself, it would be sweet.