Shit. I sat down and waited as I smoothed my grey flippy skirt over my knees. This morning, it and my black short ribbed turtleneck had felt cute and feminine. Now I felt like a teenager in a school uniform, waiting to be reprimanded for truancy.
“He’s back,” Richard said as he sat down behind his desk.
“Yes.” My voice was raspy, and I cleared my throat as I looked at him.
“I’m disappointed.”
“Why?”
“I thought I knew you better than this.” Richard frowned.
“You’re acting like I’ve done something wrong.”
“He’s married.”
“We both know his marriage is a lie,” I said softly.
“It’s a legally binding arrangement,” Richard snapped. “And at this moment in time, Jemma, you are having an affair with a married man.”
“Richard!” I protested. “You know it isn’t like that.”
“You need to end it.”
My mouth dropped open. What the hell was going on? “Richard, this isn’t like you.” I leaned forward in earnest as I searched his face. “Can you listen to me? Let me explain?” I gave a humourless laugh. “Honestly, you wouldn’t believe it.”
“You’re right, I wouldn’t believe anything you say to me right now.”
What the hell? “What is going on?” I demanded as I stood in frustration.
“It’s quite clear, Jemma, he is using you. You are too naive to see it, and as your friend, I am advising you to stop this foolishness.” Richard regarded me coolly.
“I can’t believe you’re being like this,” I whispered as I stared at him.
“He’s only interested in money.” Richard gave a disgusted snort. “He’s money-digging scum. He will tire of you, and I’ve already picked you up once from your relationship failures, I won’t do it again.”
“Aiden is not scum,” I seethed. “Can you hear yourself right now?”
“You know how I feel about adulterers and their mistresses.” I almost did not recognise the man sitting across from me. The look of contempt on his face was staggering.
Heat flushed my face as I stood there in shock. “I’m going back to my desk. I’ll talk to you when you’re…more you.”
“You’re suspended.”
“Excuse me?” My jaw seriously couldn’t have dropped any lower. “For what?”
“I have received a complaint about your sexual relations on the premises, during working hours, with a member of the construction team.”
“Aiden. You may as well say it, you know who it was,” I retorted. “I had sex with Aiden.”
“Is that an admission of guilt?” Richard folded his hands on his desk.
“Why are you being like this?” I almost pleaded.
“Your suspension starts now.” Richard reached over to his phone on his desk. “Do I need to call security?”
“No!” Tears filled my eyes, and I fought to keep control. “I’ll get my purse.”
Turning quickly, I headed for the office door, and the tears spilled over as my friend, Richard, didn’t call me back to tell me that this had been a terrible joke.
I crossed the floor to my desk, hurriedly only stopping to collect my phone, my purse and my coat. When I had them, I almost ran for the elevator. As the doors opened, I almost leapt inside away from the curious eyes in the office. When the doors were closed, I unlocked my phone, and with trembling hands, I texted Aiden.
Me: I just got suspended! Where are you? I don’t know what’s happening!
Holding my phone tightly, I thanked God for the small mercy that Nadine hadn’t been at her desk. My phone beeped, and I read Aiden’s message in confusion.
Aiden: I was afraid of this. Go home and stay home until I come to you
What the hell was going on? My insides were in turmoil, and I wanted to scream. The elevator doors opened, and I exited without lifting my head as I had no idea if my mascara had run or what I looked like. Exiting the building, I looked around for a taxi in desperation. A firm hand on my arm made me look up thinking it was Aiden, and I squawked when I looked into the face of a man I didn’t know.
“Shut your mouth, or I’ll shut you up,” he growled.
I opened my mouth to scream anyway and immediately clamped it shut when he shoved me unceremoniously against the building wall. People walked past, and even if they saw, no one said anything.
“You piss me off and I’ll describe in great detail what I’m going to do to your nieces and nephews if you try and make a run for it.” He smiled, and I almost wet myself with fear. “Now, we’re going to walk, and you’re going to shut the fuck up. You aren’t going to struggle. You aren’t going to fight. You will walk.” He pressed harder into me, and I could feel the solid muscle on his body. “Do you understand me, cupcake?”
“I’m not your fucking cupcake.”
“Walk,” he ordered, and I did. We walked quickly with his hand clamped on my arm like a vise. I kept looking at him and realised he looked familiar. “You want a fucking picture, cupcake?”
“Go to hell.” I bit back my cry as his grip tightened; it felt like he was crushing my arm.
About two blocks from the office, he stopped at a black sedan, and opening the door, he shoved me inside. He locked the doors with the fob as he walked around to the driver side as I frantically tried to open the door.
“Stop it, Jemma. Even if you got out, you can’t run from me.”
“Who are you? What do you want?” I took a breath as I felt panic threaten to overcome me.
“Quiet.” He started the car and pulled out into the street. We drove in silence, and I couldn’t stop the tears as they fell. I cried quietly, although how I wasn’t a shrieking, sobbing mess was anyone’s guess.
I hadn’t even had the sense to look out to see where we were when the car stopped. We were at Congress Park? I looked over at him in confusion. He got out and locked me in again as he walked around the car. Opening the door, he pulled me roughly out. “Same gig, keep your mouth fucking closed.”
We walked into a highly polished building, and he passed a doorman without acknowledgement. I looked around the black and white foyer, and my brain suddenly caught up.
“The bodyguard!”
“I said shut up,” he growled as he dragged me into the elevator. He pushed a key card into the slot and hit the top button.
“You’re Kat’s bodyguard, you were there that morning when she and Aiden argued.”
“You want a round of applause?”
I stared at him as I tried to memorise him. Tall, leanish, but I guessed he had muscle underneath his jacket, chiselled features, and his dark blond hair was cut close but slightly longer on top. He turned to me as the elevator door opened, and he put a finger to my lips. He got out of the elevator and waited. When he was certain it was clear, he motioned for me to get out. I tried to dash past him and scream for Aiden, but he moved like lightning and pulled me hard against him, his hand over my mouth. He half carried me to a sleek black door, and with a swipe of the card, we were inside.
He pushed me away from him like I was dirty, as if holding me was distasteful to him. Another push and he moved me into a huge room. If I hadn’t been kidnapped, I would have been in awe. The place was beautiful, but my fear at being here was too much. He took my arm again, and we were climbing the curved staircase to the upper floor. Again, I was thrust into a room, and panic overcame me when I realised it was a bedroom.
“Stay here. Don’t touch anything, and when I tell you that you can’t get out…believe me. You can’t get out of this room unless I come for you.” He smirked. “Your boyfriend freaky between the sheets?”
“What?” Fear clogged my throat. “Why?”
“Every room is soundproofed. You can scream all day, cupcake, no one will hear you.” He closed the door, and I ran towards it, grabbing the handle and realising it didn’t move. I pounded on the door anyway as I screamed, kicked and eventually sobbed against it.
Silence. Turning
frantically, I looked for my purse before I realised he took it with him on his way out. My phone was in my purse. I started to cry again. Oh my God, will you stop crying? You can’t solve anything with tears, Jemma! I wanted to bitch slap my inner voice, but she was right. I needed to think.
I paced the room frantically as I considered my options. I had been kidnapped? Aiden wouldn’t even be concerned. He had told me to go home. What was he involved in? I knew this had nothing to do with me and everything to do with him—but more likely his wife. Okay, maybe I had something to do with this. The bodyguard scared the shit out of me. He had mentioned my family. I hiccupped as a few tears ran down my face again. I went into the adjoining bathroom and stared in wonder at the sheer opulence of the place. Taking a step back into the bedroom, I tried to calm my mind and appreciate the room. Aiden had said something about the lines and the light.
You’re compartmentalising, Jemma. Let’s not do a “let’s appreciate Aiden” moment and hide in your head…let’s figure out the problem of being locked in the goddamn effing room with no phone.
I stood beside the bed, and I thought about it. Every single one of Aiden’s sites were always fully compliant with code, dad had said. I chewed on my lip as I thought about it. Scary bodyguard man had said I couldn’t get out, and I looked at the door. Aiden wouldn’t make a door with only one way to unlock it. I knew him. I may have been working with Ben over the last few months, but it was still Aiden’s work. He would have a failsafe.
I just needed to find it.
Shaking off my coat, I studied the wall and the door and then the rest of the room. Everything was minimalist. White and clean with a few touches of white-grey marble for finishings. The bed was a good-sized double sitting in the middle of the wall, with only one nightstand beside it. The nightlight came out of the wall and retracted again. Jesus, even the nightlight could be put away. I decided it was another reason to dislike Kat: she obviously had a problem with furniture.
I ran my hand over the door, searching for any hidden…buttons? I had no idea what I was looking for at all, but I was not going to be beaten. I checked the handle, absolutely smooth, and then I realised there was a smoother part to the handle.
“Finger scanner! Are you freaking kidding me?” I kicked the door in frustration. The door handles had freaking ID scanners. No wonder the scary guy told me I couldn’t get out. I was going to cry again. I sat on the bed in defeat and stared out at the amazing view, but my eyes kept being drawn back to the door handle. Electronics failed all the time. Aiden was a complete control freak, there had to be a keyhole. I searched the door handle again, and I found it. A tiny groove that you would ignore as a figment of your imagination, but because I knew the man who designed this stupid emptiness, I found where the key went. A failsafe, thank you, baby, for not letting me down.
Now all I needed was a lock-picking kit.
“Huh.” I screwed my face up. I was all out of Winchester brothers. Hair pin? No, Murdery Murderson took my purse. I sighed as I scoured the white wooden flooring. I jumped up and down experimentally. There was zero bounce on this wooden floor, which meant it was probably laid over a concrete screed. I ripped the bedding off in an attempt to get to the springs in the mattress. Who knew how hard it was to tear into a mattress with no sharp implements? I could feel a scream building. No. I could not lose it any more than I already had.
I went into the adjoining bathroom and searched under the sink for anything. Nothing. I looked at the mirror speculatively. I could smash it? Then with the glass, I could cut into the mattress and get to the springs, and then I could break the spring off. The metal could be used as a lockpick…maybe?
“Jemma, you’re crazy.” I looked at myself in the mirror as my inner voice came forward. “Let’s say you find something to smash the mirror with, because come on, it’s not like it’s in this room to break anything unless you think you can punch the glass? You, who has absolutely no strength whatsoever. So you break the glass, you then rip up the memory foam mattress. Once you’re through the durable flame-resistant foam, you’re going to get to the springs. Which are made to withstand the weight of people sleeping on them. So once you just snap the spring off, you’ll be able to straighten it to make a lock pick. And then what? After the hours that will take and the fact your hands are now probably bruised and, knowing you, cut to shreds from the glass, you’ll be able to unpick a lock. Because that skill comes naturally. Obviously.”
I looked at myself steadily in the mirror. “Yeah, this isn’t TV or a book, let’s get real.” I snorted in contempt at my wildly hatched plan and went back to sit on the now unmade bed. “Well, I’m not making it again.” I sat on the mattress in defiance for about three minutes before my helpful inner voice suggested who could have been in the bed before me and what they may have been doing. I hastily covered the mattress with the sheets.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there staring out the window when I saw the handle move. I leapt to my feet and belatedly realised I could have used the smashed mirror to defend myself. I was such an idiot.
The door opened, and I decided the best form of attack, on a bodyguard, was surprise. I launched myself at whoever was coming through the door, fists and feet flying.
“Jesus, Jem. Stop it, it’s me!”
My fists and feet stopped and hung mid-air, suspended in motion. Aiden was holding me back and staring at me like I was a deranged person.
Like I was the deranged unstable person.
“Aiden?” This time, I launched myself at him for an entirely different reason. I hugged him to me in relief before my ever-helpful inner voice reminded me that Aiden had just opened the door. “How are you here?” I asked as I stepped back.
“Come on, let’s get you a drink.”
“A drink?” I looked past him to the hallway. “Is it safe?”
“I can explain; this wasn’t supposed to be like this.” Aiden turned and started back out of the door.
“Like this? Like what?” I asked as I hurried after him. He walked quickly down the hall and started to descend the stairs. I followed, asking the same questions again, and stopped dead when I saw Mr Murdery sitting on a black leather couch. He winked when he saw me, and I saw Aiden shake his head.
“Aiden?” He didn’t turn. “Aiden!” My scream was laced with my frustration, and I saw Aiden wince, and when I looked at Murdery the Kidnapper, I saw him grin. “Why is he here? What’s going on? Why is my kidnapper eating a freaking orange on the couch?”
“Come sit down,” Aiden told me as he turned.
“No.”
“I can explain.”
“Start now.” I wasn’t moving off this staircase. Not until I had answers. I still had Plan B with the bathroom mirror.
Aiden looked up at me, and I saw his acceptance at my resolve. “This is Raphe.” He gestured behind him to the jackass, who ate another segment of orange as he watched with a smirk on his face. Not an “I’m happy to meet you” smile, but a “shit’s about to go down and I have a front row seat” smile. “He works for…” Aiden glanced at Dickhead the Orange Eater. “Family?”
Raphe shrugged indifferently and popped another slice of fruit in his mouth.
“What family?” I looked between the two of them. “He kidnapped me.”
“Well, he wasn’t supposed to,” Aiden offered a little sheepishly. “He was supposed to keep an eye on you, but he saw a potential situation and acted.”
“I’m sorry?” My rage was building. “He wasn’t supposed to kidnap me? He wasn’t supposed to threaten me with harming my nieces and nephews? He wasn’t supposed to lock me in a soundproof box with no way out? Why are you even here? Why am I here? What happens when Kat comes back?”
Raphe snorted. I glared at him and came down a few steps in anger.
“Jem, could you just come down and we can talk about this?” Aiden said quietly to me before he turned to dickhead. “You threatened the children?”
“She was going to draw attent
ion to herself. I had a limited window.” He looked completely bored. “I had to say something to get her to quiet down.”
My feet were moving of their own accord, and I was running across the room to get to the asshole. Aiden caught me and held me close. “Shh, Jem, I’m sorry.”
I struggled to get out of his hold, but he held me tight. “What did you do?” I yelled.
“Calm down and I’ll tell you, but I can’t do that if you’re being irrational.”
“Irrational!” I was screeching again. I knew I was. I couldn’t remove the hysteria out of my voice.
“I can lock her back in the room?” Raphe suggested casually.
“You fucking bastard!” I was now clawing the air on my way to get out of Aiden’s hold and get the asshole.
“Jemma!” Aiden’s arms tightened around me. “Enough!” he shouted.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” My head shook as I tried to hold back the tears.
“He was keeping you safe, cupcake,” Raphe said with contempt. He stood fluidly, and I realised how incredibly lethal he was. He seemed to ooze danger, and as he looked at me with a glint of irritation in his eye, I quieted in Aiden’s hold. Raphe walked over to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Walking over to me, he held out a bottle of water. I took it hesitantly. “Now, sit down, shut the fuck up, and let your boyfriend tell you what’s happening.”
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Aiden warned him as he loosened his arms from me. “She doesn’t know what’s happening. You’re scaring her.”
I walked away from him quickly—I didn’t want to be near either of them. “I would like to know what’s going on,” I said quietly. “I thought you worked for Kat?”
“She’s not my employer.”
“Oh.” My frown must have shown my confusion.
“Raphe works for a mutual acquaintance,” Aiden started. “When I went to San Diego for my new building project, I had other business to attend to.”
“For the two weeks you couldn’t tell me about?” I cut in. He nodded. “You’ll tell me now?”
“No.”
What? “Why?”
“It’s not important.” He glanced at Raphe. “However, when I was there, I started to put out feelers in regards to my marriage contract.”
Her Greatest Mistake Page 27