“Enough! You know nothing about Kenzie, or my relationship with her, and you certainly know nothing about what I need!”
“She will never give you what you need! She won’t go to The Blue Moon with you, she won’t let you tie her to the bed so you can fuck her however you want, she won’t let you whip her with a belt until it is coated in blood—”
“Shut the fuck up! I never hit you until blood was drawn—how dare you imply otherwise!” I cringe knowing that Kenzie is hearing the lies spewing from her mouth. “You were the fucking one who asked to be tied to the bed! That was your kink, not mine!”
“But, I would let you do that to me, because that’s what you need! You need a woman that you can take your stress out on! She will never be that person! She doesn’t even enjoy fucking! Did you know she fakes it? She can’t even—”
“You know nothing about me!” Kenzie yells from behind me.
“I know more about you than you think. He told me all about you—“ she cuts herself off before she can finish her sentence.
“Who the fuck are you talking about?” I ask.
No answer. Complete silence.
Where the fuck are the police?
“What Nicholas needs isn’t about sex,” Kenzie says calmly, as she moves so she is standing next to me, instead of behind. I try to pull her back but she doesn’t budge, instead she plants herself next to me, so she is pressed against me. Her hand slowly moves up my chest before resting over my heart where she simply leaves it for a few seconds. “He needs someone to love him, someone to trust him and whom he can trust in return, and someone who doesn’t look at him and see dollar signs.”
I close my eyes for a split second, slightly thanking Kenzie for her kind words.
“I never—”
“Shut the fuck up! From the moment you met me the only thing you saw was my checking account balance. I don’t need you, I don’t want you, and I will never want you. Kenzie is everything I will ever need and there is nothing you can do to change that.”
“She can’t be what you need! The press will tear her apart! What do you think they’re going to do when they discover that her mother was a drug addict who couldn’t hold down a job? That her own grandmother didn’t want her? It’s only a matter of time before the press digs into who she really is! Right now, they’re so obsessed with the fact that you’re married, but eventually it will wear off, and they will start to look at who she really is. She can’t be what you need! You need me, Nicholas!”
“I don’t give a fuck what the press thinks or says about Kenzie! What she went through made her the woman I fell in love with. Who the fuck cares what the press thinks?!?!”
“You don’t mean that! You can’t mean that!” she cries out.
“My life has nothing to do with you any longer! You lost that right when you embezzled money from me and attempted to publish details about PFS that never should have been made public.”
“It was the only way!”
“The only way for what? Why did you steal from me? You had money, plenty of it—you certainly didn’t need mine!”
“I didn’t have any money! Not really anyway…”
“What do you mean you didn’t have any money? Your parents are fucking wealthy!”
“They are, not me! I have a trust fund, but I couldn’t access it until I turned thirty.”
“You worked for your father; you must have been receiving a paycheck—”
“It barely covered my bills! Daddy bought me a condo, but he wouldn’t pay for everything else! I blew through my savings account, buying everything I needed to be the woman you needed by your side. That didn’t come cheaply! The dresses, jewelry, spa treatments, haircuts… it added up!”
“So the answer was to embezzle money from my company? You could have asked me for anything! I would have bought you the dresses, jewelry… whatever the fuck you wanted!”
“You’re right, I should have,” she looks at the knife as she passes it back and forth in her hands.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see several armed police officers silently make their way into the lobby, positioning themselves next to Hunter. Although their presence should relax me, it doesn’t. I don’t think she realizes they are here, but even if she did, I don’t think she would care. She’s all over the place: yelling at Kenzie one minute and then blaming her father for her behavior.
“But it doesn’t matter now,” she says after several minutes of silence.
“What doesn’t matter?” I ask.
“He cut me off,” she answers simply.
“Your father cut you off?”
“He took my trust fund away after the hearing. He bought me a condo, but then said he was done with me. All because of you! The story I was writing about you, was supposed to make him realize that I was a real journalist. It was supposed to make him realize that he could leave me the company when he retired. Instead, you ruined that! You made him hate me! You—”
“Nicholas didn’t do anything,” Kenzie says calmly. I grip her hand trying to tell her to stop talking, that it will only piss Harper off more. I want so badly to look at her, but I don’t want to take my eyes off the knife in front of me. “You made the choice to steal from him and try to expose his company—”
“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” she screams, yet Kenzie remains firm by my side, not even flinching.
“Put down the knife,” a police officer says. “You need to put down the knife and come with us.”
“No!” she screams. “Please, Nicholas… I can be what you need. You deserve so much more than she can give you. The press loved you when we were together; I can make them leave you alone. They will love you again; I can do that for you. You can’t—once they find out who she really is, they won’t love her. Please… please... I need you. Let me do this for you; I need to do this for you.”
Her head is bowed, eyes back on the floor mumbling ‘please’ over and over again. I slowly process the scene in front of me; several officers are standing around the lobby with their guns pointed at Harper. At some point Hunter has made his way over to us and is now standing next to Kenzie, his gun still drawn. Carter has also pulled out his gun, however when that occurred exactly I’m not sure. I need to do something; I need for today not to end in bloodshed. As much as I’ve hated her for what she did to me, I’ve never wished for her death.
“You’re right,” I slowly let out the breath I was holding. Hoping that I’m making the right decision and that at some point Kenzie can forgive me, I take her hand from my chest and slowly place it back by her side. I take a small step forward, putting some space between us. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Hunter step closer to me, essentially placing himself in front of Kenzie. “I do need you.”
“You do?” she hiccups and slowly raises her head until her tear filled eyes find mine. I force myself to shut everything else out, to pretend that Kenzie is not standing behind me, watching everything unfold.
“Everything you said was true… I need someone who can get the press off my ass so I can focus on PFS.”
“Yes! I can do that, please, please let me do that for you,” I watch as the false hope hits her eyes.
She thinks she has won: she really thinks in her twisted mind that this fucked up plan is working. She believes that I would throw everything I have with Kenzie away, to get the press off my case again. She doesn’t realize what Kenzie means to me and that I could care less what the fuck the press thinks about her past, when and if, they ever discover it. “I’ll be whatever you need; I’ll go to the Blue Moon with you. I’ll be by your side for the public events and I will be waiting for you every night when you come home from work. I’ll do whatever you want; anything, Nicholas, anything. Please just give me another chance…”
“If I’m going to give you another chance, I need you to do something for me first.”
“Of course, anything. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Put down the knife,” I say firmly. “You know how
I feel about guns and look at how many are surrounding me right now. They’re not going to put them away until you get rid of the knife.”
“But…”
“Put down the knife,” I say firmly.
“Okay,” she sighs.
Finally, she leans forward and places it on the tile floor. The moment the she moves away, everything changes at once. The police have her face first on the ground and are putting hand cuffs on her within seconds. When I feel Kenzie’s hands wrap around my waist, hugging me from behind, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“Kenzie,” my voice more of a whisper than anything else, but somehow she must have heard me. Without saying a word, she eases past Hunter so she is standing in front of me. I wrap my arms around her instantly, pulling her close to me, beyond thankful that she wasn’t hurt. Things could have turned out so differently—Kenzie could have been hurt… again… because of me.
“Mr. Parker, Mrs. Parker, I’m assuming you want to press charges against Ms. Snyder?” the officer asks.
“Yes, to the fullest extent possible,” I answer without hesitation. “She is in direct violation of a restraining order, she threatened my wife, myself and my security team and she broke into my home. I want any and all charges pressed against her.”
“Nicholas! You can’t do this! Please don’t send me back there! I can’t go back to prison. I can’t! Please… please… I’ll do anything! I can’t… I can’t…”
“Nicholas isn’t doing this to you—you are doing it to yourself,” Kenzie says firmly.
“Officer,” I nod in his direction.
“Let’s go, ma’am.”
“Has someone checked with Ben to make sure Cara and Ginny—“
“She’s fine,” Carter quickly assures me. “I’ll be speaking with him as soon as we get things settled here, but they were both escorted safely home.”
“Thank God,” Kenzie sighs into me.
“Carter, Kenzie and I need a place to go tonight; we’re not staying at the apartment until we can confirm that it hasn’t been compromised. We need to figure out how she knew we would be here tonight too.”
“Yes, sir, I’ve already booked a suit,” he confirms.
“I’ll have a bag waiting the hotel,” Hunter quickly adds.
When Carter nods in my direction, the four of us silently head down the waiting SUV, which we were in not that long ago under much different circumstances. Even though, it’s probably been less than an hour since I sat here holding Kenzie while she slept, it feels like another lifetime. I’m still in complete disbelief at what just happened. I want to demand answers from Carter about how the hell she got into the bakery as the rear door locks automatically, but I know it will take him a little while to get those answers. And right now, my priority needs to be on the beautiful woman who is silently sitting next to me. I wish I knew what she was thinking right now. If I thought she would discuss it, I would ask, but I know she would rather wait until Carter and Hunter weren’t around.
“She knows him,” Kenzie says.
“She knows who?” I ask confused.
“She knows Richard.”
Chapter 40
Kenzie
“She knows Richard,” I whisper… not even wanting to hear myself say his name again. “She’s working with him… they’re working together…”
“Carter,” Nicholas says.
“I’ll get Brian on it as soon as you’re secure in your room,” he confirms.
“We still have him under surveillance. Correct?”
“From a distance,” Carter interrupts.
“Does he know?”
“He is not aware that he is under surveillance; at least he doesn’t appear to know.”
“But you didn’t have her under surveillance?”
“For the first year we did,” he sighs heavily with regret. “Her father bought her a condo in a very upscale neighborhood and set her up to take some classes at a local community college in a new field. As part of our agreement, Harper isn’t permitted to work in any position in journalism, advertising or any other form of media. She was seeing a psychiatrist and was taking medication for a mood disorder; the reports from the court indicated she was doing well. We removed the surveillance on her at that point—”
“To a certain degree,” Carter adds.
“Carter had her name set on alerts, so we would know if she purchased a plane or train ticket out of the state. This allowed us to ensure she wasn’t coming back to New York, while not keeping day to day tabs on her, which everyone indicated wasn’t necessary at that point,” I can hear the anger in Nicholas’s voice, as I’m sure he regrets removing that person now. But, if nothing happened after a year of watching her and if everyone thought she was stable, I could see why they would make that decision.
“How did she get to New York?” I more wonder aloud than ask.
“I’m working on that now,” Carter confirms. “According to Brian, she didn’t purchase a plane or train ticket.”
“Find out from Brian where fucking Westbrook is,” Nicholas hisses.
We ride in silence the rest of the way to the hotel; there really isn’t much to say. I can’t stop replaying the words Harper said—there is no doubt in my mind she is somehow working with him. What I can’t figure out is how they would have met…
“We’re here,” Nicholas squeezes my hand, and I glance up realizing we’re sitting in a parked car in an underground parking garage.
Hunter checked us into the hotel and returned to the car with keys to a large suite. Given what has happened, the four of us will be sharing a suite with Hunter and Carter taking turns keeping watch all night. Not only do we not know how Harper ended up in the apartment but until we know for certain that he is still in Colorado, I don’t think anyone will feel safe.
Once Carter ensures the room is safe, we enter the large suite which contains two bedrooms with a shared living area. Hunter puts our small overnight bag in the master bedroom before joining us in the living room. Carter is on the phone the entire time; Nicholas is pacing the floor while typing away on his phone. Hunter and I sit in opposite chairs facing each other sort of waiting to see what happens.
“How is that possible?!?!” Carter screams before slamming his phone on the counter. I cringe as I hear glass shatter knowing that he likely just broke the screen of his phone.
“What do we know?” Nicholas asks.
“He’s gone.”
“Westbrook?”
“Yes.”
“How? What do you mean he is gone? I thought we had someone on him?”
“We had someone on him from a distance; you didn’t want him to know that he was being followed, so we had to keep our distance. Our guy last saw him two days ago—”
“WHAT?” Nicholas stops and stares at Carter.
“He left work in the middle of the day, telling his boss that he was sick,” Carter explains. “Our guy followed him to his condo, watched him enter the building and reports he never left.”
“Did someone check the condo?” I ask.
“It’s empty; we don’t know how or when he left but the apartment is empty. His car was still in its parking spot, so someone must have picked him up.”
“Why didn’t that fucker check him out when he didn’t leave his apartment? Why did he wait until today to search the apartment? What fucking excuse could he possibly have?”
“According to our source, this is somewhat typical behavior for Westbrook. He would often lock himself in his apartment for three to four days at a time without leaving—”
“He’s right,” I cringe at the memories of those days. “When he was having a bad week, he would sometimes leave the office early, go to a bar, get wasted and then come home and drink for two or three days straight, not stopping until he passed out at least a few times a day.”
It didn’t happen often, but every couple of months that would be his pattern. The alcohol made his temper worse; during that time there wa
s nothing I could right by him. He would flip out and hit me for no reason. The only good thing about those days was when he would pass out: the beatings would stop for a few hours and it gave me a little reprieve.
When Nicholas squeezes my hand, I realize that everyone is kind of watching me and he is now sitting next to me on the couch. What Carter and Hunter know of my past, I don’t know, but they must know enough because I can tell by the look in their eyes right now that they likely know where I just went.
“I think the only reason he didn’t lose his job was because of who his father was. Not many bosses would put up with someone leaving early sick on Fridays and then still being sick the following Monday as often as he was,” I say.
“You’re probably right,” Nicholas agrees.
“So, we don’t know where he is right now?” I ask Carter.
“We have people looking for him, but at the moment, no. We don’t know where he is,” Carter confirms. “He withdrew a large sum of cash earlier in the week from his bank account, but again this didn’t raise any concerns—”
“Because it wasn’t out of the ordinary either,” I finish Carter’s sentence. “He needed the cash to pay for his drinks and lap dances.”
“That’s what our guy said as well.”
“My family has security on them still, correct?” Nicholas asks.
“Yes, everyone has a CPO assigned to them; our staff is aware of the increased threat.”
“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I can barely keep my eyes open let alone follow what anyone is saying.
“Good idea—” Nicholas says.
“You don’t need to—”
“It’s late, I don’t think us sitting out here any longer tonight will get any answers. Let’s get some sleep and reconvene when we’re all a little more awake.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll keep watch for the next couple of hours and then Hunter will take over,” Carter confirms.
On Her Terms (The Arrangement Duet Book 2) Page 36