Midnight Alias: A Killer Instincts Novel (35 page)

“Yes,” she said in a loud, clear voice.

Vince’s jaw tightened. “You fucked him.”

Olivia rose from her seat. “Yes.”

The temperature in the dressing room dropped at least thirty degrees. Although a thread of icy fear was slowly winding its way around her spine, she held her ground, staring Vince square in the eye. He stared right back, the contempt on his face so raw that the temperature spiked right back up as his hostility set the air ablaze.

“You . . . you . . .” His voice shook with anger. “You let that bastard be your first?”

A resigned breath slipped out of her mouth. “He wasn’t my first.”

Fury exploded in his eyes.

As Olivia held his gaze, all the hatred and resentment and disgust she’d harbored for this man erupted like lava from a long-dormant volcano. “That’s right,” she told him. “I wasn’t a virgin when we met, Vince. I lost my virginity when I was sixteen.”

Without warning, he slapped her across the face. Olivia’s head snapped back from the force of the blow.

“You ungrateful little bitch!” Vince roared. “You have the audacity to treat me like this? After everything I did for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to do a damn thing for me!” she shot back.

Her sharp tone caused his brows to fly up. “Don’t you
fucking
talk to me that way, Olivia.”

She ignored the warning in his voice and fixed him with an unapologetic glare. “I didn’t want your help that night, you bastard. I killed that customer in self-defense, and that’s exactly what I would have told the police if you hadn’t covered up the attack. You made that body disappear without telling me. You paid my bills and bribed those cops when I was in surgery. You made all the fucking decisions for me without once asking me what I wanted.” Disgust dripped from her every word. “And you claim to love me? You have no idea what love is, Vince.”

For several long moments he didn’t say a single word. His dark, reptilian eyes had gone shuttered, and he didn’t move a muscle. He just stood there, watching her in silence.

When he finally opened his mouth, his soft question sent a chill up her spine. “You think you can humiliate me and lie to me without suffering the consequences?”

And then before she could blink, he pounced on her like a bloodthirsty animal, whipping her onto the floor as if she was nothing more than a rag doll. Olivia’s right arm absorbed the impact of the fall. A second later, the tip of Vince’s loafer connected with her side, so hard it made her eyes water. Heart racing, she tried to get up but he kicked her again, this time in the head.

She saw stars. She was suddenly thrust back to the night in the alley, when that customer had pummeled her with his fists, grabbed at her, tried to rape her.

She let out a scream, a shrill, piercing cry that went unanswered. Nobody rushed through the door. Nobody came to help. With growing terror, she realized Vince must have ordered his men to remain outside no matter what they heard.

Vince’s fury whipped through the air like a bolt of lightning. He was apoplectic with rage, growling like a wild animal as he pounced on her, pinned her between his strong thighs, his heavy body pressing down on her chest, robbing her of breath.

“You think I’m going to let you get away with this? I’ve waited a year for you, you stupid whore! I
own
you!”

“No. You. Don’t.” Each word was a wheezy burst of air.

Adrenaline scorched through her veins, giving her a boost of energy that enabled her elbow to shoot up and connect with Vince’s throat. He made a muffled gagging sound as his head was thrown back, and that two-second beat was all the time she needed to wriggle out of his grasp and jump to her feet.

“You fucking bitch!”

Olivia grabbed the first item she found on the vanity table—a black eyeliner pencil. Breathing hard, she curled her fingers around the pencil, then whirled and shoved the pointed end directly into the side of Vince’s throat.

He stumbled a little, his eyes filling with disbelief, and then a primal cry flew out of his mouth and he lunged at her, even as he ripped the pencil out of his neck. Blood oozed from the wound, but not the gushing spurt she’d hoped for. She’d missed his artery, and that one error cost her—the next thing she knew, she was on the floor again, lying flat on her back with Vince’s body crushing her chest like an anvil.

His hands came around her throat, squeezing hard. She batted at him with her fists, but that only caused him to tighten his grip. Her vision blurred and her lungs burned. God, he was actually going to
kill
her.

Vince’s enraged face loomed over her, spittle flying into her eyes as he continued to fume and pant like a rabid dog. “You are not worthy of me! You hear me, Olivia? You’re nothing but a cheap whore! Screwing some punk right under my nose! Who do you think you are?”

His fingers dug into her throat. No air got in, and her head began to spin, incoherent thoughts hurtling through her mind. She was going to die. Vince would strangle her to death, and then he’d get rid of her body, the same way he’d gotten rid of the customer—

“Let her go.”

The cold female voice barely registered in Olivia’s muddled brain, but she did notice that Vince froze. That his grip on her neck loosened.

“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped.

“Let her go. Now.” A shuffling sound. “Make no mistake, I
will
use this on you. Now take your hands off her throat.”

The weight on her chest eased when Vince abruptly scrambled to his feet. A burst of air promptly flooded her lungs. Coughing wildly, she welcomed the rush of oxygen, greedily sucking it in like a starved woman. As her brain began to function again, she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

Candy, standing by the lockers, holding a gun in a two-handed stance and pointing it directly at Vince’s head. Vince was staring at the blonde in disbelief that mingled with the fury seething in his eyes.

“This has nothing to do with you, bitch.”

“Maybe not, but I don’t feel like watching one of my colleagues get choked to death.” Candy’s aim abruptly dipped to his crotch. “Close your mouth, Angelo. You shout out for your guards and I’ll shoot your dick off. Sure, they might put a bullet in my head when they rush in, but not before I get off a shot of my own. And my accuracy is quite good, trust me.”

Vince blanched, but his jaw slammed shut.

Olivia’s mouth was still wide open. She stared at the other dancer, absorbed the skill with which Candy held her weapon, and in that moment she didn’t doubt that Candy Cane was perfectly capable of blowing Vince’s junk off.

Suddenly those sharp blue eyes were focused on her. “You okay, honey?”

She nodded numbly, reaching to rub her sore throat as she stood up on wobbly legs.

Still holding the gun, Candy dipped her free hand into the purse dangling from the locker door. She pulled out a set of keys, and, without taking her eyes off Vince, tossed them in Olivia’s direction.

Startled, she caught the keys.

“Silver Honda, west side of the lot,” Candy told her. “Go wait in it. I’ll be right behind you.”

She was about to protest, but the blonde glared at her. “
Now
, Olivia. And be careful walking out. Make sure his guards can’t see into this room.”

Stopping only to grab her purse, Olivia pivoted and raced to the door. She opened it a crack, took a quick peek, then slipped out and shut it behind her. Vince’s guard Mikey stood in the hallway, and his eyes narrowed when he caught sight of her face. She knew she must be paler than snow, and from the way her neck kept throbbing she suspected her throat was bruised all to hell.

She caught Mikey’s eye and spoke in a terse tone. “Vince is on the phone. He’ll be out in a moment.”

Without waiting for him to respond, she started to walk, forcing her unsteady legs to maintain a normal, measured pace when all she wanted to do was run for her life. She didn’t risk looking over her shoulder to see if Mikey had entered the dressing room. She prayed that if he did, Candy would be all right.

Oh God.

What the hell just happened?

She still couldn’t believe that Candy Cane had pulled a gun on Vince.

Think about that later. Focus on getting out.

Taking a breath, she moved through the employee corridor toward the back exit. Only when she got outside did she start running, breaking out in a mad sprint to the Honda Candy had described. A click on the key remote and the locks slid open, and then Olivia dove into the driver’s seat. With shaky fingers, she started the engine.

She waited. A minute ticked by. Two.

God, where was Candy? She said she’d be right behind her. But what if Vince had attacked her? Or his guards had swarmed the dressing room?

Olivia’s hand trembled on the gearshift. She had to go. Now, before Vince charged out that door looking for retaliation. His pride was the only thing that mattered to him, and she’d taken a damn sledgehammer to it. Now that he knew about Luke, Vince wouldn’t rest until he’d punished her.

But she couldn’t leave Candy behind, damn it. Not after the woman had just saved her life.

Fortunately, she didn’t have to desert anyone. The back door of the club suddenly opened as if a blast of air had hit it, and Candy Cane came tearing out, her leather boots snapping as she bolted to the car.

A second later, the blonde was in the passenger seat, shouting, “Drive!”

Olivia’s heart lurched. “What happ—” Before she could voice the question, the club door burst open again and two of Vince’s guards ran out.

“Drive,”
Candy repeated.

Olivia drove. Fast. The scent of burning rubber filtered into the car as she sped out of the parking lot in a screech of tires.

“Where am I going?” she asked frantically. The residual adrenaline coursing through her blood was making her dizzy and she had to blink a couple of times to clear her vision.

“West. Make your way to Tribeca,” Candy said briskly. She pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. “Sullivan? It’s Isabel.”

Isabel?

And wasn’t Sullivan the name of Luke’s friend?

Olivia was in a daze as she listened to the one-sided conversation. Her foot shook on the gas pedal, making it difficult to control the car, especially at the high speed they were traveling.

“We’ve got a hell of a situation here. I got her out, but I shot one of Angelo’s guys. We’re making our way to the safe house. Yeah . . . yeah . . . meet us there in—”

“No!” Olivia exclaimed. “We can’t!”

Candy—Isabel?—swiveled her head. “What are you talking about?”

“My mother’s home alone,” she blurted out. “Vince might use her to get to me.”

The blonde nodded and lifted the phone back to her ear. “Change of plans. Head over to Olivia’s place instead. Get her mother. No . . . try not to scare her. Make something up. Just get her out of that apartment and to the safe house . . . No . . . I’ll drop Olivia off and ditch the car afterward. Okay . . . good . . . see you soon.”

As Candy hung up the phone, Olivia kept her eyes on the road, speeding through an intersection before the amber light turned red. A hand reached across the seat divider, touching her arm. She flinched and scowled at the woman beside her. “What the hell is going on? What did you do to Vince?” Anger shot up her spine. “Who
are
you?”

“What’s going on is that I saved your ass,” the woman said bluntly. “Vince is probably hunting us as we speak, and me, well, I’m obviously not who I said I was. Any more questions?”

* * *

The Diamond Mine’s employee area was in chaos. Dancers in a panic, waitstaff wandering around in shock. Vince stood outside the dressing room door, gazing down at the pool of blood on the floor.

His hands trembled in rage. That stripper bitch had shot Mikey in the leg.

Melinda, the club manager, stepped forward nervously. “Should I call the cops, boss?”

Vince bit back an expletive. “Not necessary. Just calm the girls down and make sure everybody gets back to work.”

“But shootings have to be reported to—”

“To nobody,” he interrupted with a scowl. “Mikey is fine. He’s getting looked at by a doctor right now.”

“Boss—”

“Back to work!” he snapped. “And get someone to mop up that goddamn blood!”

Stalking away from Melinda, he went up to his office and slammed the door behind him, so consumed with rage he couldn’t see straight.

Candy Cane. He couldn’t believe it. When she’d pointed that Beretta at his groin, the bitch had meant business. Hot waves of anger, blended with humiliation, formed a lethal cocktail in his gut. That bitch was going to pay for humiliating him.

And so would Olivia.

Oh yes, Olivia would pay for her betrayal.

His body began to shake as white-hot fury tore through him. Growling, he whipped out his cell phone and called Rocko.

“Where is she?” Vince boomed.

“I don’t know, boss. All three of us went after the Honda she drove off in, but we lost her.”

He closed his eyes briefly. Drew a calming breath. When he spoke, his voice was soft and deadly. “Find her. Go to her apartment, kill her fucking mother if you have to—I don’t care what you do. Just
find her
.”

Chapter 20

Luke jumped off the sofa when Isabel and Olivia entered the apartment an hour after he’d arrived. He ignored the agony shooting through his body and rushed to Olivia, who, despite looking shell-shocked, threw her arms around him. Their chests connected with a jolt, and when he winced, she didn’t miss the reaction.

“Are you okay?” she demanded.

He offered a noncommittal shrug. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“No, he’s not,” Trevor announced. “Take a peek under his shirt.”

Luke resisted, but she was already tugging on the bottom of his T-shirt. She rolled it up, blanching when she saw the bruises marring his abdomen. “Vince did this?”

“Yes. But I really am fine,” he assured her. “I’m more worried about you. What happened?”

Her mouth flattened. “Vince attacked me in the dressing room.”

She tilted her head up, and the light caught the bluish finger-shaped marks on her delicate throat.