The Guardian (17 page)

       Dawn approached the glass counter where an overweight man stood polishing a camera lens with a cloth.  A fat unlit cigar clenched between his lips.  He peered over his glasses.  “Can I he’p you?”
       Dawn removed a tennis bracelet from her pants pocket, then a large ring from the pocket of her jacket. She placed the two pieces of jewelry on the glass counter top.  “How much are these worth?”
       The man picked up the bracelet, placed a magnifying glass to his eye, surveying it carefully, then took the ring, reviewed it just the same.

”Oh, I don’t know—“ he admired the pieces of jewelry.  “Three hundred?”
       “Three hundred dollars? That’s it?  I paid eighteen hundred.”
       “You can have the pieces back when you pay the three hundred. Haven’t

you pawned anything before? What’d you do, anyway? Lose your money

gambling like everyone else in this town?”
       “What about five hundred? I’ll have the money back to you tonight.
       He took another hard look at the bracelet, then the ring. With the magnifying glass back up to his eye: “Alright.”  He slid an index card across the glass counter toward Dawn.  “Fill this out. You got thirty days.”
       Dawn removed an ink pen from an inside pocket of her jacket, scribbled on the index card.
       He laid five one hundred dollar bills on the counter and just as she reached for the money, the man cupped her hand and said, ”Thirty days—“  he met Dawn’s desperate gaze,  “then the pieces are mine. Got it?”
       “Yeah. Sure.”  She regarded the five one hundred dollar bills, as if second guessing the transaction, but just as quick as she grabbed the money, she exited.

Chapter Fifteen

Through hidden speakers, Will Downing was swooning how much he loved a woman and how much she didn't understand.  Baby, he was for real, with every beat of his heart.

       And that’s just how Nicoli was feeling as he sat beside Dawn in the secluded dining room at the Joël Robuchon Restaurant in the MGM Grand Casino.  Exquisitely adorned in purple, black and gold, the room was fit for royalty.  World famous superstars graced those very rooms to savor French delicacies exclusively prepared by the five-star award-winning chef himself.  Although Nicoli frequently delighted in such a lifestyle and Dawn had ample opportunities since she worked in management for the largest casino conglomerate in the country, this was her first time stepping foot in such a place; a significant indication that despite their magnetic attraction, notable divides endured – he was filthy rich, extraordinarily handsome and single, while she was a middle class working mother, attractive to many, but married to one. 

       And what was a woman like that doing with a man like Nicoli?  Marks don’t usually know when they’re head’s on a radar, especially if a length of time has passed and significant events have lured their attention elsewhere.

       But Emilio never forgets and he would use any means necessary to make her pay. 

       Even ten years later.   

       “You look beautiful … as always,” he said, adjusting his satiny deep navy jacket about his masculine torso, his hands smooth and virile. 

       Dawn noticed his manicured fingers and the gold pinky ring he wore, inhaled a whiff of his sensuous cologne and knew he meant every word he said to her, he was more beautiful than any person she’d ever seen – man or woman.  Not an average kind of beautiful though, but stunning facial features, striking and utterly gallant, from his wavy jet black hair glistening in the candlelight and hypnotizing greyish green eyes to his waxy fine goatee and whiskey gold complexion.   He looked almost as if he were meticulously drawn and painted with the finest of oils.

       “Thank you, Nicoli.  You look rather dashing yourself.”  She glanced around, taking in the magnificence of the room.  “This place is unbelievable.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

       “I bet it would say the same about you if its walls could talk,” he said as he sipped champagne, gazed into her eyes, then leaned closer and wrapped an arm possessively around her.

       He felt as cool as a beautiful day in Fall as Dawn leaned over into his neck in an effort to whisper in her lover’s neck, but became raptured in a kiss so deep and passionate, she forgot what she wanted to say.  And when at last his mouth released her, Dawn’s eyes remained closed a moment longer.  And when she slowly opened them, the face she saw was the man from her dreams.  Her knight in shining armor.  Not just any man, but the one from the fairy tale she’d dreamed as a girl growing up.  The perfect man she’d built in her thoughts and dreams.  The one who’d take her to foreign lands and shower her with the richest of jewels and the most beautiful of flowers in the all the world.

      
Let’s just run out of here now while the fire is hot and I am burning with love and passion for you.
 

       She’d never been with a man so alluring. 

       Philip couldn’t hold a candle.  He was just three inches taller than she with an athletic build, pronounced features and short wavy hair.  And depending on which personality he chose, Philip could be the best or worst person to be around with his occasional grins and scanty laughter, but it only made their marriage that much stronger.  Opposites attract, they say. Philip had an aloof demeanor that she associated with his upbringing and, after they were married, assumed he became aware of his family’s dislike for her.  And since they had young children, he had to learn how to satisfy both sides without disturbing the waters, but he would never admit his knowledge of his family’s feelings toward her. 

       At least, not while they were married.

       Painfully, she recalled how his family turned their backs and left her helpless when she was sick and pregnant with Sierra and how Philip didn’t have an explanation for their actions.  But neither did they.  It was simply swept under the rug and never discussed or challenged.   Dawn was tough, but extremely gentle and kind with Nicoli, when his dreamy eyes gazed into hers as her head lain on the velvet rest of the sofa.

       “Does this place have a wait staff?”

       He grinned and his perfect white teeth sparkled and that’s when she noticed his darling dimples in both cheeks. 

       “You have the cutest dimples.”

       “Kiss them,” he proffered his cheek to her lips still wet with his kiss.

       And she did.  Gently, she pecked his dimples one-by-one as he turned his face side to side then pressed his lips against hers for another deep amorous kiss, his tongue seeking hers hungrily. 

       “I want to taste you right here.  Right now,” he caressed her thigh and moved as if lowering himself to his knees in front of her, spreading her legs firmly apart ...

       “Please don’t, Nicoli.” She resisted.  “Don’t do this here.”

       “No one will bother us,” he whispered.  “I want to make you feel good all over.  Don’t you want me?”

       “Yes, but not here.  Please,” she panted as if she could feel his mouth devouring her now.

       His arousal was evident and rock hard, yet he quickly composed himself as the chef entered, presenting a china plate dressed with greenery and caviar on little crackers topped with an array of colorful, petite shreds of carrot and cucumber.  It looked like something Dawn had only seen on television where the waiter lays the plate on the table in front of the customer and the look he returns says ‘how the fuck am I supposed to get full if I eat this shit?’

       “Bon appetite, monsieur,” he left just as quickly as he had entered, and Nicoli sat quietly for what seemed like an eternity, then suddenly, both he and Dawn attempted to speak as if to break the monotony, but what Dawn had to say silenced him completely.

       “I don’t think this is going to work … Nicoli.”

      
And
I should have killed you while you slept.
 

       Her words shot him like a gun at point blank range and a shadow of regret cast over him.  Tension quickly turned to utter remorse, and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself for allowing her to get close.

       “Say something.  Anything.  Please --”

       “What do you want me to say?  If that’s what you want, then go,” with both of his arms draping the back of the velvety French sofa, his legs cocked wide, he flicked his wrist as if all of a sudden she’d become a filthy pest.  A dog. 

       “I just need time to think.  You’re always on my mind and I –“

       “Think?” he chuckled, but it wasn’t a happy one as he reached in his jacket pocket, removed a white box and gestured as he said, “I didn’t have to
think
when I purchased this for you,” he opened the box and dangled a five carat emerald, diamond and platinum bracelet on his fingertip, then flung it across onto the neighboring lounger like worthless scrap.  It connected with a weighted thump against the cushion.  The good stuff.  Solid and expensive. 

       Dawn gathered herself and rose to her feet as if afraid to take a step in front of him.   She was near the entrance of the garden veranda when she turned around and said, “I’m just scared, Nicoli, and your actions are not helping me right now.”

       “You’re not the only one who’s afraid,” he turned around and looked at her standing near the exit.  Her hair radiated about her lovely face with an amber glow, backlit by the candelabra. 

      
Say something!  Tell her that she can’t walk down that hallway alone!

       She looked wounded and torn between love and lust, yet his words, said so sincerely, drew her back into the room and she gazed into his eyes. 

       “What do you have to be afraid of?”

       He swallowed hard and said, “You,” said Nicoli tenderly.  “I think I’m falling in love with you and just when I do, you want to leave --”

       A cell phone was ringing.  Dawn fished it from her clutch and pressed the green button below the illuminated screen.  “Hello.”

       The caller hung up immediately and she hadn’t looked at the caller’s name until now and saw
UNKNOWN.

       Nicoli was eating from the plate of caviar when Dawn rejoined him on the sofa.  He grasped her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips.  So affectionate was he that she’d forgiven his outburst and caressed his smooth goatee and smiled.  An endearment between lovers, and she desired him more now than she had before.

       He returned the favor, caressing her cheek tenderly and gently sliding his finger across her lips, then said: “I need to take you away from here.  You have to leave with me.  In the morning.”

       She sensed that he was serious and her eyebrows furrowed when she questioned the urgency.  She wasn’t’ going anywhere without her children.  Not for any man. 

He was moving closer.  She sat perfectly still, even as his hand reached up to touch her face.

       Nicoli grasped the handle of a bag – it looked like a bowling ball bag when she first saw it, but bigger and it was stuffed tight.

       “I want you to take this to your family and meet me back at the hotel in an hour.  There’s over a million dollars in this bag.  Diamonds, too –“

       Dawn gasped and whispered as if her breath escaped her, “Wh-what?”

       “Trust me,” he said in a smooth whisper.   “Kiss me,” he drew closer, caressed her cheek, and moved locks of auburn hair away from her ears, reveling in her beauty.

       And this time when he kissed her, she kept her eyes open and grasped her clutch tightly as if steeling herself for what would happen next.
       He nibbled at her jaw then licked, only to gently bite again.  He moved closer, folding her in his arms.  “Let’s get out of here.” he whispered passionately running his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck and palming the back of her head.  With a tender hand, he lolled her chin toward him.  Their eyes met as Nicoli kissed Dawn’s top lip then slid his tongue across her mouth like a serpent slithering inside to explore.  And her mouth welcomed him and because of the ice cold champagne, her tongue was liquory sweet as he drank his fill, kissing her so possessively, that when she struggled to free herself, he almost blurted the truth … about everything.
       Unsought apprehension shattered her desire for him and Dawn could no longer elude it than she could have defeated death.  It swathed her like a shroud, overwhelmed her with guilt.  There was something sinister in his gaze.  What wasn’t he telling her?
       With a desperate sigh of regret, she pushed him away and asked, “Trust you about what?  What aren’t you telling me?”
       He wanted to tell her so badly that he’d been sent to kill her, that she must run away with him before Emilio discovered the truth about them, and that if she didn’t, her life and the lives of her children and husband were in danger, but worst of all, that Emilio’s most dangerous goons were in the very next room.   Nicoli recognized Miguel and Consuelo when he’d arrived, but luckily, they hadn’t seen him; they were too busy being groped and kissed on by high dollar prostitutes.  And he’d considered turning around to leave at that very instant, but Dawn was on her way to meet him and he couldn’t leave her defenseless.
       “Do you trust me?”
       “How can you expect me trust you when you won’t tell me why you’re giving me a bag of money to take to my husband?”

       “If it were that easy – “

       “I can’t be bought, Nicoli,” she retorted, rising to her feet.

       He grabbed her hand, jolting her back toward him.

       “Don’t.  Please don’t leave.  There’s more where that came from.  I’ll give you whatever you want.  Whatever your family needs for the rest of their lives.  We
must
go.”

       And the look in his eyes sent signals of grave danger.  Lust became desperation.  He didn’t have to say another word.   She was in trouble.  Her past had come back to haunt her just as Ruthie and the other cellmates had warned it would.   She recalled the stench of Lydia’s blood pouring down her leg, the frantic screams for help from the wounded bystanders, the eerie silence of those murdered … and George … the sound of his head exploding as the Mercedes ran over him. 
Those
men had found her.  And after all of these years, their hunger to kill her still raged.