Recovery Read Online Free Page A

I do that, Simon?” I yelled.
    Simon La Roy calmly folded his hands in his lap. “Find his killer.”
    I stared at him completely dumbfounded. “What?” was all I could think to say.
    “Find David’s killer, Nicci.” The coldness in his voice unnerved me. “See justice done.”
    I never heard the rest of Simon’s proposal. I ran out of the apartment and made my way to the elevator. Gulping in quick gasps of air, I tried to calm myself as I headed down in the elevator to the lobby. I replayed our conversation in my head repeatedly. I had come to the man’s home looking for answers and I had been confronted with an unexpected possibility. If I had been the cause of David’s death, what was I supposed to do with that? How was I ever going to be able to live with the knowledge that his love for me had been his death sentence?
    As I ran out of the building and into the street, I saw a limousine pull up to the curb in front of me. A driver jumped out and ran around to open the door for me.
    I waved him away. “I need to walk. I have to get some air,” I mumbled as I turned and started down the sidewalk.
    “Ma’am,” a husky voice urged behind me. “You’re in no condition to walk the streets of New York alone.”
    Within seconds, I felt a hand on my arm, halting my progress. I spun around to face my attacker. A man dressed in a black suit was holding my arm. I looked up into the driver’s face.
    He had the most haunting dark blue eyes and his hair was almost black and cut very short. There was a scar above his right eye and his nose looked slightly crooked, as if it had been broken more than once. His cheekbones were high and his jawline square, but the effect seemed only to deepen the coldness in his eyes.
    I turned from the man and looked about the busy street. “Where’s the other driver? The one who brought me here?”
    I felt myself being pulled toward the limousine. “Get in the car, Ms. Beauvoir. Please.” His voice had turned colder and more insistent.
    I forcefully removed his hand from my arm. “Who in the hell are you?”
    He placed his hands casually behind his back. “Mr. La Roy asked that I see you back to your hotel,” he stated calmly.
    “You work for Simon?” I should have realized the manipulative little toad of a man wouldn’t let me walk away so easily. “What secrets are you supposed to get out of me?” I yelled.
    He grimaced and looked around at the people on the sidewalk surrounding us. His eyes then turned back to me.
    “Get in the car before you attract too much attention,” he snapped.
    “I’m not getting in that damned car!” I turned to go, but his hand reached out for me again.
    I was about to start throwing punches when I felt his breath against my ear. “Don’t cause a scene.” He tightened his grip painfully on my arm. “Now get in the goddamn car before I have to pick you up and throw you in it,” he growled as he let go of me.
    I turned around to face the man and then folded my arms defiantly across my chest. “Oh, I’d love to see you try that.”
    Without a word of warning, the man reached out for me, lifted me easily into the air, and brutally slung me over his right shoulder like a piece of worthless luggage.
    “You arrogant…” I began, but he wedged his shoulder into my diaphragm, cutting off my air and any further reproach.
    “I was told this method works best with you,” he explained as he walked over to the limousine.
    Seconds later, I was dumped into the backseat of the black car. As he pulled away from me, I reached up to slap his face, but he was too quick for me. He grabbed my arms and pushed me back into the seat, pinning me against the luxurious leather.
    “Try to be a little more gracious when someone is helping you, Ms. Beauvoir,” his deep voice hissed into my ear.
    “You call this helping me!” I struggled furiously against his powerful grip. I wanted to reach out to claw his face, but he kept my arms restrained against the seat