Read my Lips

Chapter 37

The top of the trash bag in Amber's hand was tied off with a sloppy knot. She lifted the lumpy bag up and cast a questioning look in Eliana's direction.

"Straight outside to the dumpster," Eliana declared as she gestured towards the door. Amber nodded her head and winked, letting her friend know she had her back. She wasn't sure exactly what happened to Eliana, other than the fact that she was kidnapped. The stories about sex slaves and torture dungeons on social media were absolutely crazy. Amber didn't know what to believe. If even half of what she read was true, Eliana had been put through something that no one should ever have to go through, let alone someone as kind and generous as her. Amber didn't come over because she wanted to hear every horrific detail about what happened. She came over because she wanted to help her friend. And when Eliana asked her to go up to her room and get rid of any red undergarments or lingerie that she could find, she grabbed a trash bag and did it without question.

"I was really worried about you," Amber sighed, wrapping her arms around Eliana once she came back in from disposing of her friend's suddenly unwanted lingerie.

"I know," Eliana whispered back. "I love you." They held onto each other a little longer before their declarations of undying affection turned into giggles.

Amber leaned back, resting her hands softly on Eliana's slim shoulders. Her smile faded away as her expression turned serious again. "If you want to talk, I'm here to listen," Amber promised. "And if you just want to forget what happened and never want to talk about it again, I'm here for that too. Whatever you need, okay?"

"I'm not sure what I need…," Eliana admitted. Her eyes flicked towards the bottle on the counter. "Except for a glass of wine. That, I know I need," she quipped.

Amber laughed as she poured them each a glass of pink moscato. It was their go-to girls night wine. But it sipped just as well as they moved around Eliana's kitchen, preparing dinner for themselves and the few guests Eliana was expecting. Amber was planning a bigger welcome home party, with their entire trivia group. But she wanted to wait on that until she was sure Eliana was ready for that much social interaction.

Eliana clicked the knob to the gas burner on her stove, enjoying the satisfying little burst of flame that appeared before she set a pot of salted water over it. Cooking a real meal in her own kitchen was the best kind of therapy. And doing it with her oldest friend made her feel even better. She didn't feel exactly normal again. Not yet. But at least she felt like she could finally relax.

Eliana could tell Amber was tense at first, afraid she might say the wrong thing and upset her. But after a glass of wine, she was laughing and joking and trying to pry information from her. Not about Eliana's assault, but about Spencer and what was going on between them.

"You know I think my dad might actually like him," Eliana said, taking a sip of wine before she dumped a package of fresh spinach on the cutting board.

"Your dad hates any man that looks at you," Amber countered with a laugh. She wriggled her eyebrows before she added, "You know it's really too bad your dad had to fly out to Florida so soon. I was hoping he'd come to dinner."

Eliana groaned, following the noise by sticking her finger in her mouth like she was about to make herself vomit. It wasn't a secret that Amber thought Eliana's father was attractive. Fortunately, her father not only made it crystal clear that he had no interest in her friend, he insisted on speaking to Amber the same way he spoke to his own daughter, like they were both children.

A knock on the door brought their conversation to a brief standstill. Whoever was knocking, they were early. Eliana hoped that meant it was Spencer. The thought of seeing him again had her heart fluttering in her chest. She wasn't really dressed up, but she was wearing her favorite pair of faded blue jeans. Amber helped her apply makeup to cover the bruises on her face and curled her hair for her. It was the first time since she was snatched from Spencer's apartment that Eliana felt confident in her appearance. She was eager to see his reaction to her appearance.

Since Eliana's hands were full, Amber headed out of the kitchen to answer the door. She returned a moment later with a man behind her, but it wasn't the man Eliana was expecting. She knew Detective Nick rode back with them on the BAU jet. She wasn't sure exactly why. Eliana heard something about him needing paperwork. She didn't really care what he was doing in DC so she didn't bother to ask. But his sudden appearance in her kitchen was very unexpected. It sent a chill straight up her spine. The pitter patter of her lovesick heart came to a grinding halt. And Eliana found herself sliding her hand closer to the large chopping knife on her cutting board.

"I just wanted to bring you these," Nick explained, holding up a large bouquet of fresh cut flowers. "It was truly a pleasure working with such a brave and courageous young woman," he added, putting his southern charm on full display. Amber was already staring at him like his accent alone was enough to melt her panties off. But Eliana still had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. When she didn't respond or move to take the flowers, the dimple in his cheek disappeared. "I hope it's alright," he added. "I didn't mean to intrude. Dr. Reid gave me the address."

"It's fine," Eliana lied. It actually wasn't fine. And she found it extremely odd that Spencer would give another man her address without asking first. It didn't seem like something he would do. Still, Eliana's instinct to be polite took over. She skirted around the kitchen's center island and took the flowers, making sure to force out a smile when she thanked him. Eliana was hoping the detective would leave once she accepted his gift. But as she filled one of her aunt's old vases with water, she heard Amber inviting him to stay and have dinner with them. Eliana cringed inwardly. But she managed to plaster a smile on her face by the time she turned around with the flowers.

"Would you like a glass of wine?," Eliana offered. "Or there's lemonade in the fridge."

"Thank you. A glass of wine would be lovely," he replied.

Since Amber was more than happy to pour the wine for their guest, Eliana went back to chopping up the fresh vegetables on her cutting board. She glanced at her phone, which had thankfully been located in Spencer's apartment so she didn't have to get a whole new one. Spencer wasn't due to arrive for at least another hour, but Eliana moved towards her phone with the intention of texting him and asking him to come over now. Before she could reach it, the pot of water and lasagna noodles on her stovetop started boiling over. Eliana moved quickly, pulling the lid off and turning the heat down to prevent any further mess.

When she spun back the other way, Eliana collided with her uninvited guest. Her body bumped into the hard plane of the detective's muscular chest. She squeaked in surprise, scrambling back a few steps and dropping the hot lid in her hand. Nick had a kitchen towel in his hand that he was offering her.

"I just didn't want you to burn your hand, darling," he drawled. Reaching down and grasping the lid she dropped, Nick leaned closer to her before he placed it carefully into the sink. "The kitchen can be a dangerous place. Lots of accidents happen here."

Eliana nodded. Her eyes flicked towards her phone again. But now Nick was standing between her and the device. She would have to move closer to him or even worse, squeeze past him, to get to it. Instead, Eliana took another small step back, crossing her arms loosely in front of her chest to hide her shaking hands.

"The flowers weren't the only reason I stopped by," Nick explained. He smiled at her, revealing his straight, even white teeth and the dimple in his cheek. Eliana had a sudden flash of her attacker. Casanova was on top of her, smiling as he teased her dusky nipples into hard little points. He was smiling. The same dimple was in the same place on the left side of his face. Casanova is dead, Eliana told herself as she tried to shake the image from her head.

"I'd love to take a look around your place and see if there's any way I can improve the security," Nick offered. "Make sure you feel as safe as you possibly can after what happened."

"That's so nice," Amber said. Amber was being polite. But Eliana could hear the nervous inflection in her friend's voice. Nick might be handsome, but Amber could tell that he was putting her friend on edge. She rounded the corner of the center kitchen island, hoping to get closer to her friend and possibly place her taller body between Eliana and the man that was making her hands shake.

"I don't think that's necessary," Eliana said, swallowing hard before she declined the detective's offer. "My boyfriend is an FBI agent, remember?" If anyone was going to check on her home security, it would be Spencer. Not some creepy cop she didn't even know.

"That's right," Nick agreed, though his tone indicated he was amused with her suggestion. He winked at her before he continued. "...but just between you and me, Dr. Reid doesn't exactly look like he's handy around the house." Nick laughed at his own bad joke. But it was when his laughter abruptly cut off that Eliana really started to feel uneasy. His eyes roamed down the length of her body. And then back up. When he spoke, it was like he was talking with someone else's voice. Or maybe this was his real voice. The southern boy charm accent was fake.

"Like I told you before," Nick said. "He doesn't deserve a woman like you."

Every muscle in Eliana's body went stiff. She was suddenly fighting to suck in a breath of air. Casanova didn't die down in that underground dungeon. He was here. Now. In her kitchen. Nick Ryan was Casanova. He was the detective on his own case.

Casanova jerked a stun gun out from under his suit jacket. Having been hit by it before, Eliana immediately braced herself for the impact. But Casanova wasn't aiming for her. He pulled the trigger and Amber slumped to the floor, her body shaking with unnatural convulsions.

Eliana's chest was heaving with shallow rapid breaths. She was hyperventilating, locked inside what felt like a nightmare. Her phone was a million miles away. But the knife she was about to start chopping up the zucchini with was closer. It was within her reach, resting on the edge of the cutting board. Eliana scrambled for the knife, holding it in front of her with a white knuckle grip on the handle. Casanova glanced down at it and chuckled to himself. His body language was still casual as he lounged against her kitchen counter. He wasn't afraid of her or the chopping knife in her hand.

"You were special, Eliana," he told her. "I thought you were the one." He lowered his eyes to the knife in her hand before he asked, "What are you going to do with that?" Like when he talked about Spencer's lack of handyman skills, there was a hint of amusement in his tone. It didn't matter if he was unarmed and she had a giant butcher knife. He was still going to overpower her. And Eliana didn't want to think about what was going to happen next. She lifted the knife up slightly, holding it in what she hoped was a better position to slash at him.

"You want to cut me?," he asked. Casanova moved towards her, thrusting his chest out slightly as he taunted her and screamed. "DO IT!"

Eliana shrieked as she brought the knife down. She was panicking and her aim wasn't good. She managed to cut through his shirt, giving him what amounted to a shallow cut across his chest. But when she swung the knife back, Casanova caught her by the arm. Eliana cried out as he twisted her healing wrist, cutting her own arm with the tip of the knife before it clattered to the floor near her feet.

"That's it," Casanova soothed, pulling her against his chest. "Nice and easy. Just like before. I'll make you come before I strangle you and leave your body here for your fucking idiot boyfriend to find."

Eliana wrenched her head back as far as she could. Then she took a deep breath and swung her head forward with as much speed and force as she could. There was a satisfying crunch when her forehead slammed into the bridge of Casanova's nose. The moment Eliana felt him relax his grip in her she pulled away and tried to dart past him. She might have gotten away, but she slowed for a moment when she saw Spencer's face on the screen of her phone. He was calling her. Eliana grabbed for the phone and tried to keep going. But when she slowed down, it gave her attacker a moment to catch up with her.

Casanova didn't grab her this time. He pushed her as hard as he could. Eliana flew forward, her body slapping against the floor as her cell phone skittered out of her hands. Her finger slid across the screen, answering the call before she lost her grip on the device. The call wasn't on speaker. But Eliana could hear Spencer's voice coming through. She screamed for help as Casanova grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back onto her feet. When he spun her around, she clawed at his face. But a moment later he slammed the back of her head through the glass door of the curio cabinet where Eliana's aunt used to store her fine china.

The world spun around her. Eliana's body was limp as Casanova hoisted her over his shoulder. He used his other arm to clear the food and glasses off the kitchen island before he laid her down on it. She felt his hands on her breasts, kneading them as he teased her nipples with his thumbs. She startled back into full consciousness when she felt one of his hands working at the button on her jeans. Casanova was on top of her. Eliana swung her hands, trying to slap his hand away from her pants and push him off her at the same time. He laughed and grabbed her wrists, pinning them together with one hand. She writhed under him, fighting back with all her strength. But he was easily able to pin her wrists above her head as he reached for his handcuffs.

To get the cuffs from his back pocket, Casanova had to lift the weight of his body off hers. It was just enough space for her to bring her knee up. Eliana kneed him in the crotch as hard as she could. Twice. And then she shoved at him, twisting her body in an attempt to get out from under him. He rolled slightly to the side, his weight pulling him over the edge of the countertop. He slid off her, but their bodies were still tangled up together. Eliana was also pulled over the edge and onto the floor. She landed on top of him. In the fall, the shallow knife cut on her arm ripped wider. Blood was dripping all over both of them.

Eliana could feel Casanova's hands on her. He was pulling and gripping, trying anything to keep her from wiggling away from him. Then suddenly she was in the air. Her body swung up and away from her attacker. She landed on her hands and knees about a foot away. It was then that Eliana realized she wasn't alone with Casanova anymore. Spencer was there. He jerked Casanova's arm up and handcuffed him to the oven door with the handcuffs the man had been about to use on her. They were struggling for control over Casanova's gun. But with only one arm free and having just taken a hard fall to the floor, it wasn't much of a fight. Spencer took a hard hit to his ribs. But then he scrambled back with both his gun and Casanova's gun in his possession.

"Are you okay?," Spencer asked, reaching for the closest dish towel and quickly wrapping it around her arm to staunch the bleeding. Before Eliana could answer, she felt a strange rush of heat. Casanova was locked to the oven. He couldn't escape. But in his attempt to separate his cuffs from the handle of the oven door, he figured out the oven was on. He left it open as he reached up and began turning all the gas burners on. Casanova didn't light them, he just turned the knob so they would start releasing gas. On a newer model stove, there might have been a failsafe to stop the gas from just pouring out. But Eliana never updated the kitchen after her aunt died. She coughed as the smell of gas began to fill the room.

Casanova reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter. Spencer pointed his gun at him as Casanova toyed with the device. Spencer glanced behind him at Eliana, then at Amber, who was still lying half conscious on the other side of the kitchen. Once he realized there was no way he could get them both out before the house exploded, Spencer turned his attention back to Casanova.

"Go ahead and shoot me," Casanova taunted. "One shot and this place will light up like fucking christmas." Casanova ran his finger over the wheel on his lighter as he smiled at Eliana. "If you die now, I'll be the last man that ever touched you."

Eliana watched as Spencer set his gun down on the counter next to the bottle of rose colored wine she and Amber were drinking earlier. He held up his hands, showing Casanova his open palms. "I know you don't want to do that," Spencer told him. "If you die now, no one will ever hear your side of the story. No one will ever know you." Appealing to the ego was the best way to motivate a narcissist. But this time, it backfired.
"DON'T YOU MIND FUCK ME!," Casanova screamed. Eliana could hear sirens. The police were on their way. But they still sounded like they were too far away to help. Casanova looked at her, a loving wistful smile turning up the corners of his mouth. The sincerity of his expression gave her a chill. In his twisted mind, he really believed there was something between them. "Goodbye darling," he crooned. Eliana saw his thumb pressing down on the wheel of his lighter and ducked her face into her arms, preparing for the blast of fire she was sure was coming. And a blast came. But it wasn't from the oven. It was the bottle of wine exploding as Spencer shot through it and buried two bullets in the center of Casanova's chest.