Desperate and Gorgeous Bk. 01 Ch. 05

"Hurts doesn't it?" Daniel pulled another chair over and sat in front of me, straddling the backrest. "Look. We don't have to drag this out. You're a piece of shit, but you don't need to die here. I just want the coke. I know you have it. Tell me where it is and I'll get out of here. The other one's around here somewhere. The pretty one- "

"Rude," Brooke interrupted.

" -She's quicker than she looks. She'll come let you loose. This doesn't have to be any harder than that."

I thought for a while before answering. "We don't have it anymore."

Daniel stared at me hard again for a long moment. Then he stood and drove his fist into my stomach. I doubled over. He pulled me up and hit me again before I could catch my breath. Spots speckled my vision as whatever air was left in my lungs got driven out. I felt nauseous. When I was finally able to take a breath he lifted me again and pummeled me a third time.

I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I stayed hunched over, pain radiating from my center until I wretched and threw up on the floor. Blood and vomit mixed together in a puddle at my feet. I finally sucked in a disgusting breath. When I looked up Daniel was in the chair again as I struggled for air for the second time tonight.

He wiped my face with a kitchen towel. Then he held a glass of water to my mouth and tilted it. I swished it around and spat.

"I told you. This doesn't have to be hard. I don't want to do this. This isn't fun for me. But I will. I don't know what you need it for anyway, you people have all the blow you could ever want. But it's my ticket out of here. So I'll burn this place to the ground around you before I leave without it." I could tell he meant it. "So I'll keep asking. And you can either tell me, or this will start to get ugly." He paused to let the threat sink in. "Where's the coke?"

I met his eyes and stared back, still breathing hard.

He sighed, "Okay," and walked to the kitchen. I heard him rummage through the drawers. He came back with a knife. "That looks like it hurts." He nodded to my shoulder.

He raised the knife and I had an instant to think, oh fuck. Silver glinted in the dark as the knife fell. Agony ignited in my shoulder and tore through me. I screamed.

When I was nine I broke my arm playing backyard football. When I was in high school I got into a fight and fractured the orbital bone around my left eye. When I was just starting to cook, one time I sliced my finger so deep I could see the bone. These weren't horrific injuries or anything, but I thought I was familiar with pain. I was wrong.

My body howled at me to do something, anything, to make it stop. With all my strength I pulled at my bonds. I wracked my muscles until they burned. I rattled and shook and thrashed and surged against the ropes. The wood creaked, but held. My breath came in ragged, broken sobs. He left the knife in my shoulder. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop. I couldn't think of anything but the searing, blinding pain.

"Just tell him!" Brooke yelled.

She didn't know the deal.

I managed to whisper through clenched teeth, "I'll kill you." My lips were peeled back in a snarl and my eyes were wide. I felt drool drip from my mouth.

"No, you won't," he answered calmly. "If I took those off, you would collapse before you made it a step. You couldn't kill me if I put this gun in your hand."

He was right. And we both knew it. "But I guess we better make sure." He pointed the gun at my leg and pulled the trigger.

Something slapped me in the face. I groaned but was too tired to open my eyes. A moment later cold water poured over my head and jolted me awake. I sat up straight. Daniel stepped back. He was holding an empty glass.

"I'll admit that wasn't my smartest idea," he said and gestured to my leg. I looked down and saw the knife buried in my shoulder out of the corner of my eye. Blood was streaming down my chest, all the way to a new wound in my thigh where more blood was welling.

Everything hurt, but my thigh and shoulder were like pain command centers, ordering the rest of my body to wait its turn.

"You're a tough mother fucker, I'll give you that. But I don't know how much time I have left, so we need to speed this up." He walked over to Brooke, pointed the gun at her head and met my eyes. "I don't do warnings. And I'm not bluffing. She's non-essential, as they say. Tell me where it is and we can all still walk away from this."

"Mother fucker!" Brooke growled and struggled against her own bonds.

"Okay. Alright." I sobbed and hung my head. "Fine." I would have to figure something else out. "It's upstairs under the bed."

"See? Was that so hard? We really didn't need to go through this whole...," he waved the gun in my direction, "mess." He trudged up the stairs.

Something moved in the darkness, and Leah appeared in front of me. "Okay. Okay. What do I do." She reached as if to touch the knife and pulled her hand back.

"Take it out. Please." I whimpered.

She held one hand against my chest and pulled it out with the other in one quick motion. The burning ache pinched into a razor-sharp edge. Then I could breathe.

She untied the knots at my wrists and ankles, then moved to Brooke to do the same while I tried to stand. I was dizzy, and had to hold the chair to keep from falling over.

Heavy footsteps thumped on the wooden stairs. "I hope you don't mind if I take the bag with me. Just easier to carry and all." Daniel made it to the bottom of the steps before he noticed Leah crouching at Brooke's feet. "Oh fuck."

I charged, sort of. It was more of a stumbling, uncoordinated, lurch really. I wouldn't have made it to him in time if he didn't fumble with the gun. He was holding it in his hand in the sling, the heavy black duffle bag over his good shoulder. He tried to switch hands but he was too slow. It must have been his blood after all. I half-barreled, half-collapsed, into him and he fell back onto the steps. The gun clattered to the floor.

I couldn't win a fight. I was too weak, in too much pain. He was already shoving me off and trying to get his footing. But we could both lose.

I reared my head back and slammed it into his face. His head whipped back and thumped against the steps. I felt sick. But I smashed into him again. Another hollow thud where his head hit the wood. We were both dazed and sluggish now.

"Fuck. You." I growled and slammed my head into his face a third time. He fell still.

I rolled over and fell off the steps. I laid on the floor and vomited again. I was too tired to even think about getting up. The cold tile felt nice against my cheek.

Finally, nobody needed me to do anything. I wanted nothing more than to lay here on the floor and just check out for a while. I had been saving a pork loin for a special occasion. Maybe I would make that for dinner tonight. I had a tasty broccoli recipe that involved roasting it at a high temperature with parmesan cheese and garlic powder, then finishing it with lemon juice. That would go well.

"Do you know if we have any broccoli?" I mumbled to nobody in particular.

"What?" Both girls asked at the same time.

"Hmmm? Oh nothing. Just wasn't sure if we had any broccoli at the house."

Eventually, they convinced me that I should stand. After cleaning me up they had to half-carry me to the car.

"What do we do about him?" Leah asked, gesturing to Daniel laying unconscious on the stairs.

"Tie him up."

I called Joe and mumbled through a conversation to let him know where to find Daniel and the coke. Then I laid in the back seat of the car while Leah drove. At some point I would have to call Sofia again to get things cleared up, but for now the cops were on high alert. The hospital would be safe for a while.

"Matt?" Leah asked as I drifted in and out of awareness. "Why didn't you tell him where the drugs were at the beginning?"

Good question. Why didn't I do that? "Part of the deal with Joe. He wouldn't drop the charges without it." Oh yeah. That.

Brooke turned to look at me. Her brown eyes reflected the lights of passing cars. "Thank you," she said softly.

"Don't mention it," I answered, and fell asleep.

I spent the next two weeks in the hospital for two gunshot wounds, internal bleeding, bruised lungs, a concussion, broken nose, and an infection. It wasn't the most pleasant two weeks of my life. Leah or Brooke stayed with me the whole time. We found the movie channels.

When we got home the place looked great. Somebody had come by to remove Carlos and Hector and clean up. Leah slept in the other guest room. She said I needed to rest. Actually rest.

A few days later she came into my room, while I was laying on the bed, and said softly, "Matt? How are you feeling?"

My whole body was stiff. First from the injuries, then from laying in bed for so long. My left shoulder still ached and I didn't think I would ever have the full range of motion in my arm again. "Getting there," I answered.

"Can we talk?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"Can you come out here please?"

Leah waited patiently while I gathered momentum to stand. We made our way through the living room, into the office, and out onto the porch. Two cars were backed up, and guys were loading bags into the trunks.

"What's going on?" I asked.

She took my hands in hers and turned me to face her. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I can't do this, Matt."

I was confused. "Do what?"

"This, Matt. Any of this."

Oh. I felt a lump in my throat and looked away. "Got what you came for, huh?" I said bitterly.

"You know that's not it."

"Do I?" I snapped.

"Yes. You do. Matt, in the last few weeks I have watched you get shot. Twice. I... killed someone. I don't regret it, but he was a real person with a family. My sister was almost strangled to death. We were caught in a full-scale shootout between rival drug gangs. You were tortured. These weeks have been insane, and I can't begin to thank you enough for everything you've done. But, I... I can't live like this."

I knew she was right. It still hurt. "That was all ok when you needed something through, right? When you needed help I was there. But now that you got what you wanted, it's too much and time to go."

She put her arms around my neck and kissed me. Her lips were firm, almost rough, and I felt moisture on my cheeks. I melted into her as images flashed in my mind. Laughing at the TV with her feet in my lap. Holding hands in the car. Whispering in the dark. I returned her passion with my own. She smelled like caramel.

"Come with me," she whispered once the kiss ended. She pulled back and looked into my eyes.

I had spent the last decade working toward what was happening now. I was out from under Carlos' viciousness. I would be working with Sofia directly. I had the chance to get my hands around the whole thing. What would I do anyway? Sit at home while Leah was off filming every other month? Carry her bag on the red carpet, staying out of the camera shots?

After what had just happened there was no way Sofia would let me out now, anyway.

She read it in my eyes and gave me a sad smile. "It's okay. I understand." She brushed her thumb over my lips and dropped down from her toes. I wiped tears from my eyes. "If you're ever in L.A., I hope you'll call."

Then Leah James walked out of my life.