Flash Burned (24 page)

I was emotionally drained by the time we returned to the retreat. Kyle took pity on me and didn't harp over the fact that Dane still had not called.
I
mentally harped enough in that vein.

We had dinner and watched TV. That very evening, another indictment was announced. I crossed the name off the list I hid under my mattress. As I wandered aimlessly about my room, a sense of foreboding and a dangerous air encroached on my optimism.

The third indictment would no doubt have the remaining two members on-edge. Although they would have heard Dane hadn't survived the blast, surely they'd find it suspicious that Hilliard, Avril, and now Anthony Casterelli had been targeted by the FBI and the IRS.

Did they wonder now if Dane really was dead?

Technically, in my mind, he'd only been missing, since his body hadn't yet been found. But I'd learned that all news reports—from the very beginning—claimed he was dead. As my mother had picked up on, which had motivated her to come to the hospital to jump on the lawsuit bandwagon. Not just
presumed
dead. Did the FBI have something to do with that?

If the others started to ponder this and pick it all apart, the way I had … That would not bode well for Dane.

Or me.

I sat on the bed, an ominous sensation moving through me, like snakes slithering under my skin. I shivered.

What if they came looking for me?

But no—I shook off the thought. How the hell would they find me?

I was pretty much off the grid at this point. I'd only been back to the house once since Kyle had told me about the rehab retreat. And though the reminder of metal flashing in the sunlight, through the trees, crept into my brain, no vehicle had pulled out when we'd left the house before visiting Mr. Conaway.

Plus, the retreat had oodles of high-end security. Dr. Stevens was a stickler for both patient confidentiality and safety. In fact, she'd mentioned the requirements were stringent for her to maintain her accreditations.

I tried to latch on to that, find a comfort level that didn't have me freaking out too much. Even Mr. Conaway had said I was safe here.

Hmm.
How would he know that for sure?

I shook my head. Now the cloak-and-dagger was getting to
me
.

My panic escalated as I returned to the living room and watched more breaking news. In Casterelli's case, the reporter actually mentioned a potential connection to the bombing of 10,000 Lux.

Was that some sort of FBI squeeze play? Or was my mind running ridiculously rampant?

“Shit,” I murmured.

“Oh, Ari,” Gretchen said as she sat next to me. “Honey, I'm so sorry. I should know better than to have this on when they're talking about the hotel.”

She was aware that both Kyle and I had worked at the Lux. Naturally, she had no idea of my association with Dane, but I had told her my injuries were a result of the explosion.

“It's okay. I'm interested in how this all pans out. Who's behind it and what's going to be done about it.”

For mention of the Lux to come about now … I could only speculate that perhaps Dane and whoever he'd partnered with—it had to be the FBI—were closing in on the remaining two corrupt members.

Anticipation gripped me so that I had to spend extra time on the treadmill later to burn off nervous energy. Then I showered in my private bathroom and headed toward the door, wanting to join Gretchen, Hannah, and Kyle for dinner.

Then it finally happened.

The cell rang.

I started. Nearly dropped the damn thing.

My hand suddenly shook, but I flipped the phone open.

“Yes?” I simply said, not sure I should give my name, say it was me on the line—or ask if it was Dane calling.

“Have your friend drive you to the house.”

Amano!

I couldn't breathe.

He said, “Eight o'clock.”

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone, my heart pounding.

Amano was alive, too!

Or perhaps he was the only one. And Mr. Conaway wanted me to hear the truth from my former, trusted bodyguard.

Fuck.

I was too keyed up to eat but didn't want to draw anyone's attention. Or skip a meal now that I was back to keeping food down and had returned to my normal weight.

While the ladies engaged in a rousing game of Scrabble, I once again asked Kyle to take me home.

His gaze narrowed. “Why?”

“Please?” I asked anxiously.

His blue eyes clouded. “You heard from him.”

“No. Amano.”

Kyle seethed. “This could all blow up in your face, Ari.”

My stomach knotted. “Bad choice of words, Kyle.”

With a miserable sigh, he said, “Yeah, I know. Sorry. It's just … Okay, Amano is alive. That doesn't mean Dane is. This might be where you get the confirmation you've fought so hard to accept.”

I'd already considered that myself. Still.

“I'll take my chances.” Though Kyle's warning would not go unheeded. It was entirely possible that he was right and I would be devastated all over again.

Fear mingled with my unease. I wrung my hands, wondering if I was being masochistic. Setting myself up for a really hard fall.

I wasn't sure I could make it through a second time around. Were it not for Dane's baby growing inside me, I would have been the walking dead.

But I had to find out the truth. I had to know one way or the other. It was time to see if there was a silver lining somewhere on my horizon.

I remained positive as we headed to Oak Creek Canyon, despite Kyle's dour mood.

“I swear, if this is a setup or if you find out he really is gone … Jesus, Ari.”

“Lighten up on the steering wheel,” I said. “You're going to rip it from the dash.”

“You do realize how fucked up this all is?”

“I realized that a long time ago,” I conceded. “But this isn't your everyday intrigue we're dealing with here.”

“It never is with Dane Bax.”

I smiled, the hope building within me.

We reached the gate and I perked up in my seat as Kyle punched in the code. One of the stall doors of the detached garage opened.

“Pull in,” I said.

“Do we really have to get all
Mission Impossible
?”

Revenge
was more like it, I suspected. “Just do it.”

The door lowered behind us. Kyle cut the engine.

I said, “You know how much I appreciate this, right?”

“You know how pissed off I'm going to be if he breaks your heart again. Right?”

Leaning over, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You're a great friend. I think I'll be okay. You, too.”

He scowled. “Let's go.”

Regardless of the reassurance I'd given us both, my nerves jumped as I reached for the handle.

I'd walked into a very easy trap once before. Considering the people we were dealing with, it could happen again. Even though it had definitely been Amano's voice on the line, there could have been a gun to his head when he'd called me.

I suddenly regretted involving Kyle. I should have asked to borrow his Rubicon, not have him drive me.

Why hadn't I thought of that before?

Yet … Once again, my gut told me otherwise. Instinct and everything I'd recently unearthed made me confident of what I would find here.

Kyle took me gently by the forearm and led me through the garage to the main exit. We passed a black SUV—not the Escalade Dane drove—as well as Dane's McLaren and high-performance motorcycle.

We made our way up to the house and I bypassed the keypad and tried the lever. It was unlocked. Stepping inside, I found the entryway and the space beyond as dimly lit as when we'd arrived here after I'd been in the hospital. I didn't bother turning on any lights. Instead, I led Kyle to the great room. The silvery-blue hues of this portion of the house provided just enough illumination because of the tall windows and doors that let in the streaks of moonlight.

I pulled up short just past the oversized entrance, my heart stammering. Kyle instantly let go of my wrist.

Air rushed from my lungs as the figure at the windows turned.

“Dane!”

I raced across the stone floor and launched myself into his arms.

“Well, fuck me,” I heard Kyle mutter, nonplussed. And astonished.

Dane held me firmly. Everything ceased to exist except the two of us.

Tears began to flow, which quickly turned into body-wracking sobs. My face was buried in the crook of his neck and his embrace tightened.

Relief and joy echoed through every inch of me. Every fiber of my being screamed with the need to get closer to him, even though we were completely melded together from head to toe.

I was overwrought with emotion. All of the positive energy I'd channeled into my belief that Dane was alive could not prepare me for the reality of it. For the feeling of his hard body against my curves, his soft lips at my temple, his warm breath on my skin as he murmured apologies and “I love you” in a tormented voice.

I clung to him, not sure I'd ever be able to let go.

This wasn't a dream. It was real. He was alive and I was in his arms.

Somehow, he'd survived the explosion. And I knew he had to be as wrecked as I'd been, not being able to tell me, to talk to me, to touch me.

“I'm so happy to see you,” I sobbed. “I've
never
been happier than right this very moment.”

“Baby, I'm so sorry,” he whispered. “For all you've been through.”

“Nothing matters, Dane. Except that you're here with me.”

I couldn't let him go. Clung endlessly to him. Continued to cry.

He kept one arm solidly around my waist and smoothed my hair with the other hand.

In the background, over my soft wails, I heard Amano explaining what had happened after they'd discovered the bomb planted in the table below that massive chandelier I'd always admired.

“Dane was the last one out,” he said in his deep, stoic tone. “He went into the kitchen, just to be sure everyone escaped. He wasn't far out of the doors to the courtyard when the building blew. I found him under a pile of stone, glass, and wood. He was unconscious. Barely breathing.”

My crying jag ensued, but I tried to concentrate on what Amano said as Dane stroked my hair and kissed my temple.

“I had to get him out of there, fast. He wouldn't have survived. So I carried him over my shoulder to the back lot where the hotel Escalades are and left through the service entrance before the ambulances and fire trucks were even on their way.”

“He took me to the physician who helped Vale,” Dane told me in a quiet voice. “A private facility—a friend. Part of my network.”

So nothing would be reported. Everything kept hush-hush. Including his existence.

Amano said, “I went back for you, Ari, but by then you'd been taken to the hospital. I followed the story on TV, learned your injuries weren't life threatening. I had to trust that Kyle and your father would take care of you, and I had to do the same with Dane.”

I'd known there would be a sound reason for all the secrecy.

Continuing, Amano told us, “Dane was in a coma. Responsive in some respects, but clearly in need of healing. I didn't know if he would live, so I didn't do anything—I didn't let anyone see me, not even Jack Conaway, so I could avoid answering questions. I didn't tell anyone Dane made it out alive. And I didn't visit you because Dr. Forrester did not believe Dane was going to survive. I had to wait it all out.…”

“Ari,” Dane said. “Amano realized from the beginning the opportunity presented, if I pulled through. I could really go after the others if the media reported me dead.”

So I'd been right.

Dane added, “I only recently started to make a recovery. I couldn't contact you because…” He gave a slight shake of his head. “It's complicated and fucked up.
I
was badly fucked up. Amano had to do all my work for me. He handed over all of the evidence I'd collected to the FBI. They started the investigations without me. I couldn't get any sort of word to you in my state. And because we weren't sure how this would go down. We had to keep you safe. And I needed to recover in order to finish my work.”

I heard him swallow hard, telling me it was just as agonizing for him to suffer through his injuries as it'd been to not be able to contact me. Hell, for all I knew, he had no idea where to find me. If Amano hadn't alerted Mr. Conaway until recently that they were alive, then chances were good Amano had no idea where I'd disappeared to after leaving the creek house. No way would he have been able to covertly track me down in Sedona … until Kyle and I had come here for the list of society members.

It must have been Amano's vehicle I'd spotted in the woods, since the timing seemed about right.

“I take full responsibility, Ari,” Amano said. “And I'm terribly sorry you had to believe Dane was dead. But the FBI latched on to that particular angle from the onset, and I couldn't do anything but follow their lead. For all our sakes. I hope that maybe, someday, you can understand that. Forgive me.”

“This is so jacked,” Kyle hissed angrily.

“Yes,” Amano admitted. “I'm to blame. I chose this direction for Dane. He was in a coma and I took action. This is on me. But … it's working.”

“I know,” I gasped. “I've watched the news.” My face was still pressed to the side of Dane's neck, so my voice was muffled. I breathed him in, having missed his heated scent so much.

Amano further explained, “Dane collected a hell of a lot of evidence before the explosion.”

“On your laptop?” I asked my husband. “It's missing from your office.”

“I came for it,” Amano told us. “Not long ago. A day or two after Dane came out of the coma. Ari—”