End Game (Games Thriller Series)

by J. E. Taylor

  “What are you doing here?”

  He shrugged. “The premiere’s Friday and I didn’t have any where else to go. Besides, I figured he’d bring you here. I just assumed he still had a place in the city somewhere.”

  Jessica nodded and began jogging again. Tom caught up to her.

  “And I figured you would go jogging.”

  Jessica glanced over at him. “You look a little better than the last time I saw you.”

  “I haven’t had a drink since then. It’s been tough, though.”

  “I’d kill for one right about now.”

  “Why, something happen last night?”

  Jessica let out a small laugh. “Oh, yeah,” she said and kept jogging.

  He reached out and stopped her. “What?”

  “Sharon put a contract out all right,” she said and yanked her arm away from him. Anger welled up in her for the first time since the assassin walked into the studio. “Chris let one live.” She started running again. “The rest, well, they didn’t get the chance to hurt anyone. My kids saw what Chris did. And my four-year-old kept watch while Chris went to get Emily and Eric.”

  “I’m sorry.” He kept pace with her.

  Jessica looked over at him. “My four-year-old,” she said and sped up.

  “Which one?” Tom asked.

  “CJ,” she answered. “Chris’s son. I told you, he has more power inside him than Chris, Eric, and me combined.” Jessica let out a little laugh. “And he is on pace to be a genius just like his father.”

  Tom’s eyebrows scrunched together and he cocked his head to the side looking more like an inquisitive puppy than a forty-year-old man.

  She glanced over and caught his look. “Ty was a member of Mensa.”

  “And Tommy?”

  She looked over at him again. “He is sweet.” She smiled, refraining from saying ‘like his father’.

  “Are you sure he doesn’t have any abilities?”

  Jessica shook her head. “He hasn’t shown any signs at this point.”

  Tom quietly jogged with her. “Can I see him?”

  Jessica didn’t answer him right away; she kept running as she thought about it. “Someday.”

  “When?”

  “When it’s safe,” she answered, shutting him down completely and then a thought crossed her mind making her tense up. Jessica looked around them and over her shoulder. She couldn’t see anyone following them and relaxed a fraction.

  “What are you doing?” Tom asked, watching her.

  “Making sure we haven’t been followed. Being with you could be my death sentence.”

  Tom slowed to a stop. “Shit.” He turned, tracing his jogging route in the direction he had come.

  Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. She had felt the turmoil in him when she said he could be her death sentence and was glad that he made the decision to leave her alone. Until this blew over, she couldn’t associate with him, otherwise she’d put her entire family in danger. The only exception to that was the premiere, where she would confront Sharon in front of the world. She smiled at the thought and kept running.

  She kept going until she passed in front of the Plaza Hotel and stopped. Her face went pale; she hadn’t been back in this particular spot for just under five years and she shivered remembering the last time she was at the hotel.

  “I had the same reaction,” Tom said, making her jump. He was sitting on the bench behind her trying to get his breath. “That was the last time I stayed at the Plaza until Sunday night.”

  Jessica put her foot on the bench next to where he sat and tightened her shoelaces. She switched feet and did the same with the other one and glanced over at him. “What are you doing?”

  “What do you mean?” He tried to sound innocent as her eyes bore into him.

  “I’m getting married tomorrow, Tom.”

  “But you aren’t married yet.” He stood up and stretched.

  “That doesn’t matter,” she shot back and stretched her legs on the bench without looking at him.

  “Yes it does, Jess. You shouldn’t be marrying a killer.”

  “Look...” She spun toward him. “I love him.”

  “You loved me, too,” he pointed out. “That didn’t seem to stop you from being with him when we were married.”

  Jessica glared at him and began to run down the path that led straight through the park back toward the apartment.

  He took off after her, bolting by her and stopping a ways ahead of her, waiting for her to catch up. He started jogging a few paced ahead of her until they were in an extremely secluded spot in the park. He turned and took her in his arms, kissing her.

  Jessica struggled against his tight grasp. “Tom, stop,” she said from under his lips, inadvertently giving his tongue access to her mouth.

  “Uh-u,” he replied without taking his mouth from hers, his tongue tasting the line of her lips.

  “Let her go,” Chris growled from behind them, his voice low and dangerous.

  Tom’s head whipped around and his eyes locked with Chris’s. His arms shot from Jessica, holding them out as he took a step away from her and she ran into Chris’s arms.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Jessica whispered, diffusing the fury radiating from Chris.

  “I should have known you would try something stupid. You led them right to her, you dumb son of a bitch.”

  “Who?”

  “The fucking assassins your wife sicked on us.” He glanced down at her. “I had a funny feeling and decided to follow you; it’s a good thing too.” He raised his sharp glare in Tom’s direction. “But don’t worry; those assholes won’t get a second chance.” His teeth clenched and he pointed at Tom. “And if you ever touch her again, you will find yourself in the hereafter just like the bastards who keep trying to kill her. Now get the hell away from us.” He turned and led her away.

  * * * *

  Tom stared until they disappeared from view, the frosty air chilling him to the bone as much as Chris’s words had.

  Assassins?

  Here?

  Shit.

  He backtracked toward the Plaza again, trying to slough off the devastation encompassing his heart, but the pressure continued. She hadn’t kissed back, and that leveled him, crushing any hope of ever holding her in his arms again. Chris was right, he had really lost this game and he craved the numbness that came from drinking. He shuffled back to the hotel, throwing himself face first on the bed in despair.

  “Did you think she would really pick you?”

  Her voice set off a volcanic eruption of fury and Tom’s head shot up, his eyes narrowing at his quarry. “Get out! Before I kill you.” He pushed himself up and started toward her.

  “I saw her tying her shoes while you sat on the bench next to her. What a pathetic loser, you ran after her just like the sick puppy you are and based on how you look now, she shot you down,” Sharon taunted and pointed her index finger in his direction. “Because of you, she’s dead.”

  Tom bit his tongue knowing she was wrong because Jessica had the most extraordinary guardian angel this side of heaven. He went into gear, putting on the best acting job he had done in years and let his eyes tear up. “You bitch.” He let the pain ring clear in his voice. “You fucking bitch,” he screamed and took a step toward her, his hands balling into fists.

  “I would hold that temper in check unless you want to go to jail.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “If you leave me, I will release this letter to the police.” She handed him a copy. “I have the original tucked away in a safe place.

  He took it from her and scanned it, the frigid air outside was nothing compared to what slithered over his skin and he tightened his jaw against a shiver. His eyes rose from the confession letter penned in his own handwriting to her smug smiling face and lost control. Fury struck in the form of a cracking backhand and Sharon crumpled to the floor.

  Sharon laughed from her vantage point on
the floor, her hand covering the bright red splotch on her cheek. “You being a drunk was a real benefit at times.”

  He clenched and unclenched his hand and looked at her and back at the letter, slowly crumpling it and dropping it to the floor. “What makes you think that makes a difference now?” He reached down and took her by the throat, squeezing as he picked her up.

  “If I die, her entire family dies.”

  He released her and stepped back. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh yes I would and I’ve got another lovely confession letter for that as well,” she said, rubbing her neck with her hand.

  Rage narrowed his field of vision, coloring the edges fiery red and he lashed out, striking her with his full weight behind the punch, connecting with the tender skin of her cheek, just below her right eye. She sailed backward, tripping over the edge of the bed and falling to the floor and he followed, grabbing a handful of her shirt and slamming her into the wall. “There are far worse things than dying,” he growled. “Far worse.” He tossed her across the room and stormed out.

  Tom walked into the hotel bar still in his jogging outfit and sat at the beautiful mahogany bar, ordering a scotch straight up. “Keep ‘em coming,” he said to the bartender and put a couple hundred-dollar bills down on the surface.

  “It’s a little early,” the bartender said.

  Tom laughed. “I’d say it’s about time.” He downed the scotch and pushed the glass back to be refilled. Two hours later, he stumbled to his room and passed out on the bed oblivious to anything around him.

  Chapter 22

  Despite the rocky start to the day, the remainder quietly flew by. After dinner, Chris stood and glanced at Emily. “Do you mind watching the kids while we go out?” He pointed in the general direction of Jessica, ignoring her questioning eyes.

  “Not at all.”

  Chris slipped down the hall to the bedroom and Jessica followed.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  He reached into the closet and pulled out her fur coat. “You’re gonna need this.” He handed her the coat and grabbed his long wool coat. Turning, he rifled through his suitcase until he pulled out the two wrapped jewelry boxes and slid them into his pocket. “I’m giving you your wedding gifts a day early.”

  She smiled, getting the hint loud and clear and pulled out the two gifts from her, leaving the necklace the kids picked out in her suitcase. “Where are we going?” she asked again.

  “It’s a surprise.” He took her by the elbow and escorted her into the living room again. “Don’t give your sister a hard time,” Chris said and looked directly at CJ. “Understand?”

  “Yeah, Daddy.”

  They gave hugs and kisses to the boys and as Chris passed Eric, he ruffled his hair out of habit.

  “Come on man, I’m almost eighteen.” Eric knocked his hand away.

  “Yeah, but you’ll always be the little boy who saved my sorry butt.” Chris smiled at him. “That will never change.”

  “Whatever,” Eric said to his soon-to-be stepfather.

  “Eric saved you?” CJ looked up at his father.

  Chris nodded and headed out with Jessica for the surprise date with his fiancée. They left the building all bundled up against the mid-February air and he hailed a cab. He gave an address to the driver and leaned back, smiling. They pulled up next to the marina and Chris paid the driver, holding the door and helping Jessica out of the car. A seventy-five foot yacht sat on the dock with white Christmas lights wrapped around the deck and a man in Captain’s garb approached them.

  “Mr. Ryan?”

  “Yes.”

  “This way, please.” He escorted them to the yacht and helped Jessica board.

  “The cabin is all set for you sir.” He opened the door and waved them inside, but did not follow.

  A gas fireplace burned in the corner and rose petals covered the floor, giving the room a sweet rose tang with an underlying hint of vanilla courtesy of dozens of candles. But the centerpiece drew her eyes: a lush round bed flanked by an extra long nightstand holding strawberries, champagne glasses and a chilled bottle of champagne. Alongside the strawberries sat a silver bowl full of whipped cream.

  Chris took her coat and draped it on the chair, peeling his off as well before crossing to the sound system, pressing the play button and soft music piped through the room. He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her, taking a steadying step when the boat pulled forward, beginning their evening cruise around Manhattan.

  “Surprise.”

  She surveyed the room, her heart pounding with rejuvenated adoration and her gaze lingered on the strawberries and whipped cream before turning toward the windows, the city lights trailing in every direction. “Wow. How long do we have?”

  “As long as you want. When we go up on deck, that’s when they’ll head back.”

  “Ah.” She smiled at him. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

  He grinned and tugged her shirt over her head, glancing toward the strawberries. “Ten years ago I made a sorry attempt to seduce you. This time, I want to do it right. This time I want to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

  She melted in his arms, the overwhelming joy and underlying anticipation tingled through every skin cell and she blinked back the thin film of tears. His eyes, his words, his hands owning her and she whispered, “Oh, Ty.”

  He undressed her, leaving only her bra and underwear for the moment. “Just one more thing,” he said and went over to his coat. He pulled a box and brought it to her. “Your first wedding gift.”

  She slid her fingernail under the shimmering gold paper, daintily peeling it away from the blue velvet box. Before she opened it, she caught a quick glance at his face. He grinned like their four-year-olds on Christmas morning. She opened the lid and her hand fluttered to her mouth. Brilliant diamonds sparkled from the crushed velvet, more diamonds than she had ever seen and she raised her eyes to him. “My God, Chris, it’s beautiful,” she whispered and he took the diamond eternity necklace out, clasping it around her neck.

  “Not nearly as beautiful as the neck it sits on,” he said and smiled, sweeping her in his arms and placing her on the bed. Stripping off her bra and underwear, he took a seat on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers from her neckline to her belly button and sighed. When he looked back in her eyes, he smiled. “Smoldering yet?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said, her skin breaking out in a rash of goose pimples as he picked up the first strawberry, putting it to her mouth and she wrapped her lips around the sweet fruit, biting the bulk of it and leaving only the stem in his hand.

  A hint of a dimple appeared in his cheek and his eyes positively sparkled, more so than the diamonds gracing her neck. She swallowed the treat and licked her lips watching him toss the top onto the tray and dip the next one in the whipped cream.

  Chris barely touched her lips with the strawberry, leaving a hint of cream on them and then he ran the strawberry down the side of her neck, leaving a thin path of white. He bit into the strawberry and put it back on the tray and leaned over to kiss her. She turned her head grinning and trembling and he paused, letting a soft chuckle escape.

  That chuckle thrilled her as much as the heat of his tongue riding the length of the whipped cream trail, gently removing it from her skin. Heat that spread over her body, pooled between her legs.

  “I don’t know if I can hold out as long as I did the first time,” he said and picked up the next strawberry with a shaky hand. “Hell, I still don’t know how I walked away from you then.”

  Jessica just smiled. She was the last person to answer that question; she herself had almost given in to her desire in the same situation a lifetime ago, chained to a mattress in that cold concrete room with a much different man running strawberries and whipped cream over her skin. She wondered if they would be here, now, and so in love if she had given in to his whims.

  “I’d like to think so.” He dipped another strawberry in the cream and ran it
in between her breasts before offering it to her. Leaning over, he licked the cream off her skin, slowly, deliberately, creating an inferno in her aching pussy. The heat aided by the spread of his lips into his signature smile.

  “Tell me you want me.”

  She laughed and shook her head. Not yet, oh no, she wanted to draw this pleasure out. She wanted the seduction. She wanted his tongue buried in her pussy and she wanted to see him lose control first.

  He raised an eyebrow and dipped his finger into the bowl, bringing a healthy dollop of whipped cream to her nipples, tracing the hard nubs before letting her suck the sweet confection from his finger. He leaned over, licking the cream from each breast, lingering on her nipples, flicking, nipping, and sucking.

  Tendrils of pleasure ran from each breast, sending her heart into the frantic mating beat that echoed between her legs.

  He moved onto the bed, spreading her legs and kneeling between them. Anticipation of his touch, sent tremors down her spine and his blue eyes penetrated her, his grin widened, deepening the dimples in his cheek. His cream-dipped finger traced a line from knee to inside her hip, cool followed by lightning heat of his tongue. The slow progression toward her pussy produced a sweet wetness, an aching for him to finish this slow madness and just fuck her. He repeated the motion with her other leg and she audibly sighed, shivering with her arms pinned above her.

  He took a moment to explore her belly button with his tongue, the depths, the shape, the trembling skin surrounding it, ending with a wet kiss before he met her gaze. “God I love you,” he whispered and the repeat seduction changed direction from the original. Instead of crawling up her body and gently kissing her like he did ten years ago, he kissed a line straight to her clit.

  What he did with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers, shot her into overdrive and she arched into each wet rush he elicited. Orgasm after orgasm after orgasm, she yearned to feel his cock inside her, his body pressed to hers. “Please, please, dear God, please fuck me,” she whispered.