Confessions After Dark

by Kahlen Aymes

  “Mmm hmm.”

  “Why?” They were close and Allison’s eyes narrowed. Alex was out of sorts, quiet, introspective, and not himself. He looked tired, like he’d rolled out of bed and threw on the first thing he found, and more telling, he didn’t argue when their mother asked personal questions. He simply left the room. “Do you know her? Do you know what she told Whitney?”

  He contemplated how much to say. He hadn’t confided in anyone, not even D. “She told her to get her shit together and walk away,” he answered quietly. He took a long pull on his drink and the ice clinked on the side of the fine crystal glass. “Whitney didn’t have the balls to follow through, and I called the show the next week and told my side of the story. Whitney, no doubt, painted a biased picture. Angel, however, had her own ideas on men like me. User, womanizer; you know the classic stereotype. She had no problem showing her distaste.”

  “Oh, my God. I can only imagine. I’m sure you were ruthless in defense of your position.” Allison’s eyes sparkled as she teased him. “And it’s Angel, is it?”

  “Yes. Angel. Don’t worry, Allison, she gives as good as she gets.”

  Understanding dawned on his sister’s face. “Oh, I see.”

  “Do you?”

  “I know you, Alex. Nothing gets your juices flowing like a good challenge.”

  He nodded and moved into the room. “It may have started out that way.”

  “Tell me, Alex.”

  “She’s… not like anyone I’ve ever met. She’s very provocative. I wanted her like I’ve never wanted anyone. Like—I couldn’t help myself.”

  “Apparently, she couldn’t either.”

  Alex stared into his glass, examining the ice as if it were a precious diamond. He shrugged.

  “So Whitney should hang up any hope for reconciliation, I see.”

  “Please, Allison.” His reluctant eyes met hers. “You’ve spoken to Angel, then?”

  “Yes, but it was all business. I thought I’d hear back from her by now.”

  “Do you think you will?”

  “Most likely. The band isn’t booked and she’ll be instrumental in securing them.”

  “Do you know what her connection is?”

  “Yes. She fronted the band a few years ago.”

  “I believe she was involved with one of her bandmates for a time.”

  “It seems you have a lot of information, Alex.”

  “Does she know you’re my sister?”

  “No. I mean I don’t know how she would. I had no reason to mention you and our last names are different.”

  “Can you keep it that way?”

  “Why?”

  “We’re taking a break. I’m trying to give her just enough space to miss me.”

  “Was this your decision or hers?”

  “It took me completely by surprise. I thought things were going well. Better than well.”

  “Wow.” Allison’s eyebrow lifted. “You’ve always been the one to walk. How are you handling it?”

  He shrugged, ignoring the gravity of her statement. “I’m a little off-balance, Allison, but I’m still me.”

  “Is there anything else?” Alex asked, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

  Charles set his napkin on the table with purpose. “It strikes me as strange that you are keeping this deal a secret.”

  Alex smoothed down his tie. “Do you know who Mark Swanson is?”

  “I’ve heard the name, but no.”

  “He’s a small-time hood who runs a chain of dry cleaners in the Greater Chicago Area. He’s been charged with raping his stepdaughter. However, it looks unlikely he’ll be convicted.”

  “It’s news, so what? It seems an unlikely business opportunity. Maybe, if the man was getting convicted and the business was being sold off cheap. But, this?” Charles frowned.

  Alex sighed heavily. “He’s guilty, but he’s able to pass the psychological tests, even the polygraph.”

  “That doesn’t explain your involvement,” his father insisted.

  “The psychologist profiling the case is a friend. The bastard is threatening her.”

  “Just a friend?”

  “No.”

  “I see. So you think that justifies using company resources?”

  Alex shook his head. “Not exactly, but it’s something I need to do, Dad.”

  Charles’s eyes studied his son. He was dressed impeccably, as always, but he looked exhausted, his face drawn, his eyes bloodshot. He had new hope his son would find new faith in love. It was perplexing to Charles that Alex would be so cynical when his parents shared such a close relationship. He nodded. “Okay, son.”

  Alex was thankful his father let the subject drop and the conversation continued on to less personal matters. The situation he shared with Angel felt too intimate to share, like he’d be betraying some sacred bond. Cole knew by necessity, and Darian knew they were seeing each other, but nothing more. Other than that, and the short mention to Allison, he kept it close to the cuff.

  “Alex, you haven’t mentioned it in a few weeks, but we’re still on track with that London acquisition, aren’t we?”

  Alex flushed. “It’s sort of taken a back burner, but I’ll work on it this week.”

  “Did you forget we’re supposed to close the deal in two weeks? You told me a month ago it had to be done by the middle of this month.”

  “No, I didn’t forget,” he lied. “I’ll take care of it.”

  “I expect you to be there to finalize everything.”

  He didn’t feel like arguing, but going to England was the last thing Alex wanted to do. If the issues with Angel weren’t resolved before then, he knew it would make him nuts. He didn’t relish being so far away when everything was a clusterfuck with an uncertain outcome. Even with Bancroft and Cole watching her around the clock, his gut told him to stay close.

  As father and son left the upscale restaurant, Alex reached for his phone. Cole was supposed to check in every couple of hours, and he’d been tied up with his father for more than three. Although he hated to admit it to himself, he was also hoping to see a message from Angel. He chastised himself for being such a pussy and quickly connected to his voicemail.

  Hi, Alex. She’s at her office, and it’s been quiet. Nothing to report. The message was short and cryptic.

  “Excuse me. Alexander Avery, isn’t it?”

  The two men paused, and Alex’s eyes narrowed on the man attached to the voice. His back stiffened and something close to hatred slithered over his skin with agonizing slowness, making the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up.

  “It is.” As if it needed confirmation. Alex turned to his father and extended his hand. “Dad, thanks for lunch. I’ll call you later.”

  Charles glanced between the other two men, the tension between them more than obvious, and it was unlike Alex not to introduce him. He nodded and shook his son’s hand. “Sure.”

  Alex buttoned the jacket of the black Gucci suit, a stark contrast to the white shirt and blood red of the silk tie he wore. “What can I do for you, Mr. Swanson?”

  “Oh, so you know who I am?”

  Alex’s lips thinned and he huffed. “Your reputation precedes you,” he replied.

  “As does yours.”

  “No doubt. This chitchat is nice, but I have obligations to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me?” Alex dismissed the other man but he put up a hand to stop him.

  “Mr. Avery, we have things to discuss.”

  Alex contemplated his next words carefully. “Really. Like what?” he asked dryly, wondering if the prick had the balls to mention Angel. The notion made his blood boil, and he’d be hard pressed to keep the control necessary not to rip the other man to shreds.

  “I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”

  Alex felt his lip twitch, although he felt less than amused. “Then I guess that makes us even.” He turned and began walking out of the restaurant.

  “Mr. Avery! We’re both g
ood at negotiation. I’m sure we can come to a mutually agreeable solution.”

  Alex turned and looked steadily at the man he’d come to hate. “I don’t negotiate with fuckers like you, and I doubt you could keep up, in any case. You may have missed it, but I’m not doing this because of your stellar business practices.”

  “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. You’d be better served—”

  Alex laughed harshly, interrupting abruptly. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with. Exactly.” His tone was harder than iron.

  “You understand what I mean. Back off of my business! You don’t need more money.”

  Did this asshole really think it was about money?

  “If you knew who you were dealing with, you’d know I always finish what I start, and I make it a point to know my adversaries inside and out before taking them on. You’re a little greasier than most I deal with, I admit, but I have more resources and more connections than you dream about. Plus, I always win. If you were an honorable man, you could go about your meaningless life of dirty laundry, and I wouldn’t give a shit.” Alex’s chest tightened despite his outwardly calm demeanor. “But, since you’re slime, you’ll be lucky if you have enough left for a garage sale when I’m finished.”

  “You’re not as infallible as you think you are, Avery; a fact which was illuminated while you were in Hawaii, I believe.” The older man watched the younger one’s muscles coil under the expensive suit, and satisfaction at Alex’s discomfort caused a wicked smile pulling his lips away from his teeth. “Dr. Hemming is less, shall we say, evasive than you… much more easily penetrated.” His emphasis on the word had Alex’s blood boiling. “So alluring and full of fire, hmm? It makes her vulnerable and even more attractive.”

  Alex’s hands curled into tight fists. It was all he could do not to beat the smug look off Mark Swanson’s oily face. In three quick strides, he was a foot away from the other man. The scent of smoke that clung heavily on the other man’s breath and clothes assaulted him.

  “Your so-called connections don’t give a fuck about you. You’re a bug, an annoyance that needs to be squashed. Nothing more. As for Angeline, touch her and I won’t be responsible for my actions. If you hurt her, I swear to God, you will beg for death.”

  Alex turned, inhaling deeply at the same time, and stalked away from his enemy. His chest hurt, he was hotter than hell, and his skin was burning. He’d never experienced hate to the degree he felt it now. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, Alex wanted to kill Mark Swanson with his bare hands and damn the consequences.

  *****

  “Huh! Huh!” Angel punched, and then attacked the bag with a round kick, followed by more punches. “Huh! Arrrrggggghhhhh!” She was out of breath; sweat plastered the tendrils that had worked their way out of her ponytail to the sides of her head. She could feel the moisture soaking through her sports bra and around the top of the yoga pants she was wearing. “Huh!” She kicked the bag again.

  “Angel, I think that’s enough!” Becca let go of the bag and moved away. “You almost knocked me down. I think you’ve still got your groove on.”

  Angel picked up a towel off the mat next to her and slung it around her neck, using the ends to wipe the perspiration off of her face. Her chest was still heaving as she shot Becca a disgusted look, took a long pull on her water bottle, and began walking off toward the locker room. “I sucked, Becca!” she said indignantly. “It’s been too long since I practiced. Don’t fucking placate me.”

  Her friend sighed. Angel had been quiet all night, and when she did open her mouth, she complained about everything. “Look, Angel, you’re not as good as you were. Okay? But you’re already being a bitch tonight, so why would I want to make it worse, huh?” she asked loudly, her words bouncing off the tile walls of the locker room.

  Angel kicked off her shoes and threw them in her locker and they landed with a loud thud. “I don’t have time for this shit. I have to take a shower and go to the station.”

  “What the hell’s your problem? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re upset because Alex let you dump him. You didn’t bargain for that, did you?” She sat down on the wooden bench and watched Angel angrily strip her clothes off and wrap a towel around her. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

  “Shut up, Becca. See what I get for telling you about it. You know why I did it.”

  “Yes, but it’s the dumbest thing you’ve done since I’ve known you. Why didn’t you just tell him the truth?”

  “Because.” Angel felt her throat thicken, making it difficult to get the words out. All she wanted to do was disappear inside the shower where her tears would be invisible. “He wouldn’t have stayed away. He’d only get more involved. I told you because I needed someone to talk to. I shouldn’t have, and if I’d known how you’d bitch at me about it, I wouldn’t have! I don’t want to go over it again. I don’t want to think about Alex.”

  “But he’s… him, Angel! A guy like that doesn’t roll over with his legs in the air.”

  “That’s the problem. I have to put this bastard away, and Alex would stand in my way. I don’t want to argue with him about it, and he might get hurt in the process. I couldn’t take that chance.”

  “I think you should just leave this alone, Angel. It’s too dangerous. From what you’ve told me, this prick will stop at nothing.”

  “Exactly the reason he has to be put away. For God’s sake! Not you, too! I shouldn’t have told you any of it! I needed someone to support me, Becca.”

  “I will. I am! But, you’re in love with this guy. Why risk losing him?”

  “I didn’t want to care about him,” Angel said weakly, picking up her shampoo and trying not to let Becca see her face. Her heart hurt and she wasn’t sure she could keep it off of her expression. “Long-term relationships are not Alex’s forte, and you can’t lose something you never had. This is for the best.”

  “Who are you trying to convince?”

  Angel ignored the other girl and left her on the bench. She yanked the shower curtain closed, letting the hot water rush over her hair and body, wishing it could wash all of her problems down the drain with it. She missed Alex more than she wanted to admit and ached for him to call. He didn’t. It had been almost two weeks and she hadn’t heard from him. Not once.

  Her reports would go to the D.A.’s office next week, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the charges being dropped. Kenneth wouldn’t take a lost cause to court, and if the girl refused to face her attacker, that’s exactly what it was. What a fucking waste!

  Angel leaned on folded arms against the tile wall, resting her head against them. She was exhausted, and not just because of the brutal workout she’d just subjected herself to. She wasn’t sleeping well at all; each night, her comforter and sheets wound up in a wad on the floor or tangled up at the foot of her bed. Even though her building was secure, it wasn’t more secure than Alex’s estate, so it was only a matter of time before Swanson and his band of thugs tried something. She was sure of it, but she didn’t know when or where. At the office, her apartment, the station, or the gym? It could be anywhere and she was always on edge. She’d even considered getting a gun, but her father had always said if you have a gun for protection, you better be prepared to use it or else it could be used against you.

  The threats had been intermittent. One call on her cell phone threatening to kill her if she didn’t get Swanson off, but the voice was raspy and unrecognizable. She’d been ready to record any others, but all that followed were voicemail after voicemail of heavy breathing and creepy laughter. Always the number was restricted and couldn’t be traced. It was frustrating as hell. She stopped answering her phone when she didn’t recognize the number, but calls kept coming. If she didn’t know better, the situation would almost be comical. She got hate mail at her condo, and after the first one, she made sure to open them with latex gloves on and save them in a Ziploc bag. The fear was worst when she was alone at night. Des
pite the fact she wanted the prick to attack, she was scared to death and longed for the safety of Alex’s arms. He was always on her mind and that wasn’t good. She struggled to keep her wits about her and not let the overwhelming sadness distract her.

  Being at the station late on Friday nights was a risk, not just for her, but for Christine, too. On her way through midtown, she called Darian.

  “Can you be there for the show tonight?”

  “No problem. I’ll meet you there.”

  Angel’s brow furrowed. No questions? No complaints about missing boy’s night out? Again, Alex surfaced in her mind. “Thanks,” she replied into her phone. “No boy’s night tonight?” she asked; the lights of the Chicago night were a blur against her windows.

  “Nope. Are you okay?”

  “Erm… yeah? Why?” She wondered what Alex had told his best friend. Was he struggling as she was, or was he full of arrogant bravado, making it seem like she was just another casualty in the Alex Avery relationship train.

  “Nothing. You sound different, and you’re asking me to be at the station. It’s weird. Are you feeling all right?”

  “Not really. That’s why I thought you could be there for moral support. Plus, I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  Darian laughed. “Well, I’m flattered; although, since I haven’t seen much of Alex either, I figured the reason was obvious.”

  Angel doubted that Darian was as ignorant as he was playing, but she didn’t want to discuss the subject. “Yeah. See you in a bit.”

  *****

  “This is Angel After Dark on KKIS FM. Thanks for all of your calls and dedications. Love and peace until next week.”

  Alex lay on his bed in the dark as he listened to her voice. The last words he’d hear from her mouth until her next broadcast. He’d itched to call her voicemail, just to hear her, but he resisted it at every turn.

  He’d been staying at his apartment because it was closer to Angel, and Max was with his parents. Cole was firmly ensconced in her building now, and Bancroft had hired a few others to follow her around the clock. He let out a deep sigh. She’d probably scratch his eyes out if she knew, but at this point, he’d take any contact with her he could get.