Page 43 of Winter
Kevin. He blocked the doorway of the teahouse.
Oh God … no …
Kevin smiled nastily and reached behind him to lock the door.
Tommaso stoppedat a florist’s in Willowbrook to order some flowers for Inca. He hated that he was going to have to leave her to go to Paris, but at the same time, he knew Raff would make sure she was safe. There was something he liked in the thought of his brother and his girlfriend being alone together … a twisted part of him wondered if his brother would make a move on her. He had seen it in Raff’s eyes last night and knew that look of old.Desire. And who could blame him, confronted by Inca’s lush, naked body like that?
Of course, Raff would never take advantage— not like Tommaso. God, would he ever stop feeling guilty about Perdita? Maybe he would feel better if Raff did fuck Inca …
What the hell are you thinking? This is the woman you love …
He shook himself. Still, it would be a thought that would fester. He thanked the florist for the blooms—hibiscus, peonies, gerberas in the brilliant jewel tones that Inca loved—and got back in his car.
As he drove to the Sakura, he saw Nancy pounding at the door of the teahouse screaming and crying. People were running towards it as he brought the car to a halt with a screech and leaped out.
“Nancy! What’s wrong?”
Nancy was beside herself. “He’s in there with her; he’s hurting her, I know it … oh God. Oh God …”
Tommaso pounded on the door and could hear shouting from inside—an English man’s voice—Inca’s screams of pain—and he went cold. He threw himself against the door twice before it caved in, and he tumbled in.
Kevin had Inca by the throat, his free hand curled into a fist and driving into her stomach. Inca choked, unable to fight the huge man off. Blood poured from a cut above her eye. Tommaso, with a roar, threw himself at the man, dragging him away from Inca. Tommaso launched a fearsome attack on Kevin; the other man was completely blind-sided, still staring at Inca, who was on the floor, gasping as Nancy rushed to help her.
“Get off me …” Kevin tried to free himself from Tommaso’s grip. Olly and his deputy burst into the teahouse then, brought by the screams and shouts.
“Tommaso, drop him,” Olly ordered, and, although half-crazed with rage, Tommaso did, breathing heavily. Kevin’s face was a mess of blood, his nose broken. But Olly took one look at Inca’s stricken face and he merely put a hand on Tommaso’s back. “Step back now, Tommaso. We got this.”
His tone was gentle and broke through Tommaso’s rage. He blinked then and darted to Inca’s side. Nancy relinquished her daughter into his arms, a grateful look on her face. Tommaso could feel Inca’s entire body trembling. Nancy gave a squeak of distress as she moved around the counter and he looked at her.
Nancy looked over at Olly. “Olly, would you come here please?”
As Olly’s deputy wrestled Kevin out of the teahouse, Olly came over. He looked at what Nancy had seen and his face paled. Tommaso shook his head.
“What? What is it?”
He felt Inca shiver, and when the answer came, it was from her.
“He had a knife,” she said simply. “He had a knife.”
“I’m goingto cancel Paris.”
Inca shook her head as the doctor made a face at her for moving. He was pressing butterfly stitches to the cut above her eye. She apologized to him, but looked back at Tommaso. “No, don’t. I am fine—even better now that Kevin’s in jail.”
“Olly says that at the very least they’ll charge him with attempted murder.”
“There you go, see? The best thing is not to let him dictate our lives anymore.”
Tommaso sighed. Since he had brought her to the medical center, Inca had rallied and seemed to be too okay for his liking. The doctor told her the shock would probably come later, but she shrugged. “It’s over; he’s caught.”
“Lay back for me, Inca. I want to check your other wounds.”
Tommaso closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to see the cuts and scratches on her lovely body. Kevin had tried to stab her, had come close, the tip of the knife making contact with her skin a few times, but she’d managed to disarm him before he could stab her. But then he’d started to choke her.
Tommaso opened his eyes and took in the damage. Blood oozed from the scratches on her belly, her stomach, her arms, and her hands where she’d fought him. There was an inch-long graze on her throat and a deeper slash on her left shoulder.
God.
The doctor was cleaning them, Inca wincing as the alcohol hit her skin.
