Rise of the Titan

by Pressley James

But, as she reached for them, he surprised her by grabbing her right hand. “Here let me.” Slowly, he slid her hand into the oven mitt, and then he couldn’t resist a teasing jab. “Seeing as the way you’re handling those tongs, you might need some assistance.”

  “You’re one to talk,” she shot back. “Especially after you massacred that poor head of lettuce. I believe you even chopped the stalk.”

  “Don’t mess with me, smart ass,” he grinned, placing her hand into the last mitt. “I’ll keep the salad to my damned self.”

  “You so would, wouldn’t you?” she giggled, pushing him aside, and was rewarded with his playful ‘ouch’. She couldn’t suppress another joyful smile. “Now move out of my way before the garlic bread burns.”

  About ten minutes later, they were eating across from one another at the dining table. Relaxed and comfortable, they found that conversation came easy as if did before.

  “Not bad,” she murmured between bites and waved a fork in the air. “Have to say that I haven’t bitten into any chunky stalks yet. But, the salad does tend to be a bit, uh,” she smiled sweetly with her tease. “…super crunchy.”

  “Really? Are you perhaps trying to throw some shade at me?” he probed, and a devilish grin curled his lips. Purposely, he dropped his eyes to the steaming pasta, and then met hers again. “Just a quick cooking tip, girlie. You might want to lessen the time on the pasta. How can I say it without hurting your feelings?” He gestured with his hands and frowned. “Well, there a tad bit mushy, dear. Not to mention that you’ve drowned it in too much sauce.”

  “Guess that’s why you’re on your third helping, huh? You’re shoving it in pretty fast I’m not sure that you’re even chewing,” she jabbed back, raising a brow, and waved the fork in the air again. Her brown eyes simmered with straight merriment. “Not that I’m watching you eat, mind you.”

  “Since we’re on the subject…uh….” he cleared his throat noisily. “…you might want to wipe that drool off your mouth while you’re at it---”

  “You lowlife,” she giggled and hurled a napkin at him. “It’s obvious that no one has taught you any manners.”

  “Hell,” he laughed outright. “You know I don’t have any.”

  The door bell pealed.

  Startled, they both stopped with surprise.

  “They know better than to come up here of all places. Damn it, this better be good,” he muttered under his breath, and his expression changed at once. Now, impatience and irritation played on his face. Standing, he passed her a fast glance before leaving the table. “Stay here. I’ll see who it is and send them on their way. Then, hopefully, we can continue our lunch in peace.”

  “Ok.”

  As he left, the disappointment filled her.

  Why, why, why was there an interruption?

  They were having too much fun.

  Of course, something had to deter that, she mulled, growing irritated.

  As the door swung open, she caught a side view of Braden’s face---it was covered with naked fury. Whoever it was, he wasn’t pleased by their arrival, and from her vantage point, they weren’t visible yet.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he cursed, and the underlying tension breathed in his tone. “This isn’t the time or place.”

  “Trust me on this, Titan.” The stranger’s voice held an Australian lilt. “I had no choice. We need to talk. Now.”

  Uh—oh…trouble…

  Stiffening in the chair, she turned slightly for a better view. When she did, she finally caught sight of his tattooed visitor. The man was all Gothic, all the way down to his little toes. A streak of white spliced down the center of his head, and his hair was overloaded with gel. Nose piercing—both diamond studs and a hoop---added a vivid obscurity. From his nape, the line of tattoos ran and probably covered his entire body. He was dressed in nothing but black and even his lips were stained with the ominous color. Obviously, these types of fixtures were the common staple of a Gothic-themed lifestyle.

  Yet, there was an apparent intellectualism about the man.

  He just seemed……brainy…

  Not a little brainy……but super-brainy……

  “Better make it quick,” Braden quipped tightly, jerking the door wide-open. As he gripped the doorknob, the tension showed in his grip. He passed a fast glance in her direction, and then looked at the man again. “As you can see, I’ve got company.”

  “Lousy timing on my end, I know. My bad, dog.” The stranger smiled lazily as he stepped inside. Then, looking at her, he gave a courteous nod. “Howdy ma’am---the pleasure’s all mine.”

  She gave a brief nod. “Likewise.”

  “Bella, you go ahead and finish eating,” Braden said tersely, closing the door, and a dark scowl lined his face. “If I’m not finished conducting business with my guest here by the end of lunch, don’t wait for me. Go to the office and read over the ledgers on my desk. Also, tell Penelope to hold all my calls.”

  “Is everything okay?” she asked with concern.

  “Yes, everything’s fine. So, don’t worry. Finish your lunch.” Then, turning his attention to the stranger, he inclined his head towards the other end of the apartment. “Come with me. We’ll talk in the study.”

  Her eyes followed them.

  When the study door closed, she let out a collective sigh, “Just when things are going good, something ruins it. What else is new?” Appetite suddenly gone, she laid the fork down onto the table. The food on the table was no longer inviting. Nor was the uneasy feeling either, she realized, and stood. Her words came out in a low whisper. “Damn it, Braden, what’s going on with you? What are you mixed up in now?”

  ***

  “This better be good.” Straightening in the chair, he eyed Bingsby with a mixture of anger and irritation. “We had an agreement. The idea was for us to be discreet.”

  “True. Believe me. If it weren’t important, I wouldn’t be here.” The Goth frowned at him across the desk. “I tried to call countless times today, but the receptionist would never put me through.”

  “It’s called business. Around here, we work and never stop.” He paused for a second. “Why are you here, Bingsby?”

  “We’ve got trouble.”

  “What do you mean trouble?” He stiffened in the seat. “My team has been assembled and loot has been paid straight to you. Within 48 hours, you are supposed to deliver info to me, spring the girls out, and release them. I’ve kept my end of the deal.” A bitter expletive left him. “So, what’s the fucking problem?”

  “The feds are our fucking problem, that’s what,” Bingsby bit back, and his own face was screwed with animosity. “They’re like cockroaches, hiding and crawling in every corner.” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Anyway, they’ve been sniffing around and asking questions.”

  “But, we’ve already established that fact. Our goal is to stay ten steps ahead of them---”

  “Well, let me put it this way. Word has got out, and it’s made Vitali’s crew nervous.” The Goth hesitated briefly. “You’re not going to like this news one bit.”

  “Spit it out, then.” His thunderous expression worsened. “Quit dancing around and just tell me what’s happened.”

  “Vitali has relocated the girls.” A red flush stained the man’s pale features. “Right now, we don’t know where----”

  “What the fuck!” Leaning forward, he slammed an angry fist against the desk. “How could you lose the location?”

  “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Sorry’s not fuckin’ good enough. It sure in the hell won’t cover the $500,000 that I’ve shoved up your ass.” Chest heaving fast, he forced himself to breathe easily. Still, the anger radiated from his body in waves. “We’re not hitting rewind. The plan is still to go forward. You listen to me, damn it, and listen real good. I want my information and those girls released.”

  “I need more time---”

  “24 more hours and that’s all you’re getting.” A deadly warning playe
d in his eyes. “One word of warning---I’m not one to fuck with. When a deal is made, I expect my end to be met, and you will meet it.” His gray eyes glazed over like cold silver. “24 hours, Bingsby. If you don’t give me what I want, there’ll be hell to pay.”

  ***

  “I don’t know what this even means,” she groaned, sitting behind his desk, and stared down at the business ledger. “Why does it make sense when I’m with you? But, here, alone, everything’s just a foreign language.” Sighing with frustration, she sagged against the chair. “And where are you?”

  Lunch came and went.

  An additional two hours were now officially underway.

  Still, no Braden…

  Without a doubt, this so-called business with Mr. Goth was big business.

  “I’m trying to protect you,” she whispered with rising disappointment. “But, when things like this happen, my doubts start to creep in.” She rose forward in the chair and resumed analyzing the ledgers. “Yet, again, I need to remember that we have nothing incriminating on you. That’s the good thing. I just have to keep reminding myself of that.”

  Moments later, she embraced relief.

  The ledgers were legit.

  As she moved to place them back onto the desk, she knocked the cold mug of coffee over by accident. Quickly, she tossed the ledgers into the chair and turned back to the desk. With horror, she watched as the light brown pool of coffee streamed along his desk, threatening to destroy the pile of papers stacked at the corner.

  She sprinted across the room.

  After spying the box of tissue, she snatched it up before running back to the desk. She pulled out tissue by the handful and dropped it into the wet mess. Grasping the pile of papers, she dumped them into the chair along with the others. But, just as she did, a small paper item danced in the air slowly before falling to the floor.

  She frowned.

  A check?

  She stooped down and picked it up.

  No, it was a money transfer receipt.

  The shock split through her.

  In the past 48 hours or so, a total of $500,000 had been transferred from an account---an account that had---

  “What the fuck are you doing?”

  Starting with surprise, she jumped up.

  Across the room, in the doorway, a thunderous Braden stood.

  “I was just---”

  “Why are you going through my things?” With careful ease, he closed the door, but still, she sensed his boiling anger. “I thought the idea was that you weren’t working for Vitali.”

  “Why are you accusing me of that again?” she asked, miffed and hurt at the same time. Again, a niggling guilt played as well---because wasn’t she actually snooping? “We’ve been over this countless times.”

  “And every time I drop my guard, you do something to make me suspect you.” Eyes narrowed, he eyed the money transfer receipt in her hand. Then, his gaze clashed with hers. “What are you doing with that?”

  Her grip tightened on the receipt. “Why are you transferring so much money?”

  His jaw clenched tight. “How is that any of your business?”

  “Because I’m afraid for you,” she replied honestly. “And I don’t want you to be in any trouble.” As he approached, she didn’t move from behind the desk. When he was upon her, she caught her living breath, and again she was just overwhelmed with feelings of every sort. She gasped as he caught her hand, only to carefully peel the receipt from it. Still, though, she demanded answers. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  His answer was point blank. “No.”

  “Why?” she demanded stubbornly.

  “It doesn’t concern you, Bella---”

  “Of course it does,” she fought back. “We’re friends, and it’s my job to look out for you. It sure in the hell is obvious that you don’t plan on doing it yourself.” Before thinking, she reached out and grasped his waist. “Please, let me help you.”

  “What are you, my little nightingale?” A hint of a smile curled his lips, but it dropped, solely because of the seriousness of the matter. Shaking his head, he stared down at her. “With this Bella, it’s best that you stay out of it.”

  “How can I stay out of it? I’ve had an attempt on my life not too long ago, remember?” Her eyes searched his. “There can’t be any secrets. We have to be honest with one another about everything.” She paused for a second. “Does the money have anything to do with Mr. Goth?”

  He tensed under her hold.

  Bingo, she mulled.

  It did.

  “It does, doesn’t it?” she probed. “That’s why you were gone so long with him. What is it? Is he blackmailing you?”

  “Why the 20 questions all of a sudden?”

  “I just want to understand---”

  A deep tremble coursed through her as he grabbed hold of her, only to clasp her face and raise it higher. Again, their eyes connected, and the visual intensity hurled her through millions of torturous and needy loops.

  “Bella,” he breathed hoarsely, and both agony and shame shone on his handsome features. “While I’m not my father in many regards, I’m not a saint either. There’s a side of me that you don’t know. There are things that I’ve said and done---”

  She tightened her hold on his waist. “You are a good man---”

  “Tell me. Why are you so adamant about that?”

  “Because I know you.” All the passion played in her eyes. “The man that I spent all those weeks with, he’s not a monster. While you may not be the goody-goody boy next door, you are a man of integrity. You just show it in different shades.”

  “You really believe that?” he asked in a low whisper. “That I harbor some good?”

  “Yes.” Nodding, she gulped hard. “I do.” She stared at the front of his shirt. “And while we’re standing here---even though I have a million questions…” Her eyes met his again. “I know there has to be a reasonable explanation as to why you’re paying Mr. Goth all that money.”

  “I need you to trust me on this, okay. This business transaction with Mr. Goth, as you call him, will actually lead to good. As much as I want to, I can’t go into specifics,” he admitted, and his gaze darkened with something unexplainable. “If I did, it could set off all kinds of alarms. That alarm-sounding could cause a lot of people to get hurt, and I don’t want that. Getting you involved would only place you in danger. I’m not willing to risk that---”

  “Please stop trying to protect me---”

  “My sole job is to do just that, Bella. All along, that’s what I’ve been fighting to do.” His hand firmed along her face, and in his grip, she felt his fear. “If anything were to ever happen to you.” Closing his eyes, he moved closer and rested his forehead against hers. “I couldn’t take it----”

  She bit her trembling lips. “Oh Braden---”

  The door swung open.

  With a guilty start, they jumped apart.

  Wide-eyed, Penelope stared at them across the room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” She waved a single piece of paper in the air. “It’s just that you asked that I bring this correspondence in as soon as it came.” An embarrassed flush stained her face. “Well, here it is.”

  Braden gave a brisk nod. “Thank you.”

  At those words, the receptionist scurried away.

  “Well, that didn’t look good” she sighed, reaching past him, and snatched more tissue from the box. Stepping past him, she began mopping up more of the spill. “Guess our little innocent clench will hit the rumor mill for sure.”

  “I’m sorry.” Like her, he began cleaning her mess. “You’re trying to build a new life for yourself, and here I am fucking it up---,”

  “And exactly, what have you done?” Surprising him, she grasped his hand and stayed it on the desk. “You’re not sexually harassing me or forcing me to do anything. So, don’t even go there, alright?” With reluctance, she released his hand and began cleaning again. “Anyway, I’
m sorry for making such a mess.”

  “Accidents happen,” he shrugged nonchalantly. “All the time.”

  “Yes, they do.” Sighing, she surveyed their handiwork. “What do you think? Is that clean enough or do I need to grab some paper towels?”

  “Nah, we’re good.” He threw her a sideways glance. “Ready to get back started?”

  She nodded. “Ready whenever you are.”

  Just like that, they went on.

  Chapter 19

  “Well, you have officially impressed me.” She tossed the napkin down onto the dining table, later that evening. Then, grasping the goblet of wine, she sipped the alcohol and met his gaze. “You are a good cook.”

  “No big deal,” he shrugged, sipping from his own glass. “Just learned a few pointers or two from Carmine, but I’ll never be that good at cooking.”

  “He’d be proud,” she smiled. “I have no doubts about that.” She paused for a moment. “How is everyone by the way?”

  “They’re good. I’ve actually convinced Mama to see a therapist, believe it or not. It did require a lot of coaxing and badgering on all of our ends. After what happened with you that night, she’s finally realized the need for additional support.” A look of concern flashed along his features. “I’m afraid for her. Reliving those horrors---even though it will only be when she’s on the couch---will only give them renewed life. My experiences are horrific, so I can only imagine the gruesomeness of hers. I shudder when I think of the things that she hasn’t told me. Those truths are always worse than the speakable ones.” He released a frustrated breath. “Maybe I’m wrong to force this on her. What kind of son does that?”

  “Hey, stop it.” She grasped his hand on the table, and the warmth spread from it to hers. As she grazed a finger across the back of it, the action drew their gazes together. “If there’s anything that’s obvious, it’s how much you care about your mother. Your love and devotion to her is commendable. Every mother needs a child that’s willing to go to any length to provide and care for her.” Squeezing his hand, she then released it, but her gaze still offered comfort. “Never second-guess yourself. You’re doing the right thing.”