30DaystoSyn

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  “If she’s right, that could also explain how the press found out about Lina,” Jono said. “That dirty cop Jack Bass works for or with the Ukrainian hoor. He saw Lina with Craigie at the police station. Wouldn’t have taken much for him to discover her name and everything he wanted to know about her.”

  “And don’t you find it odd that no one knew about Lina until Olivia showed up and her nasty little plan failed?” Spike suggested.

  He stared at her. “The press has been all over my ass since I got out of the hospital. I won’t give them a statement about Olivia so they go after my woman instead?” He kicked the desk. “For what? To piss me off?” He kicked it again. “Well, they succeeded!”

  “Don’t get off the bike, we’ll pick up the pump,” Spike mumbled.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down!” he yelled at her. “I want them off my property! They are on my property without my permission. Get them the fuck off!”

  “Your…?” Spike frowned. “Did you buy the nursing facility?”

  “Yesterday,” Jono replied with a grimace. “Surprise.”

  “Diversity,” he said—which was what he always said when he bought something that made no sense to anyone other than himself. “Did you hear me, Jono? I want them gone!”

  “I’ll get right on it,” Jono said.

  “And take my chopper out there to pick up Melina. I want her here with me!”

  “Good idea,” Jono told him. “I was wondering how we were going to run the gauntlet to get her out.”

  “She’s been through enough for one day,” Spike put in.

  He pointed a finger at her. “Call Kit and tell him I want a state-of-the-art security kiosk built at the entrance to the road into Cedar Oaks. Take Ellis out there with you on the chopper to begin scanning handprints of all employees. If they’re off duty, have them come in and be photographed and scanned. Tell that woman out there that every vendor and visitor will be vetted and scanned or they will not be allowed on the property. Anyone who has a problem with that can find another job or facility for their people. I also want security fencing installed around the perimeter and guards patrolling 24/7.”

  Spike and Jono exchanged looks.

  “Did you hear me?” he bellowed. “Are your arms and legs painted on, Christine?”

  “I’ve been doing this since your arsehole was the size of a shirt button,” she snapped at him. “I’ll do what needs doing.”

  “And start looking for another job!” he shouted at her as she left his office.

  “Don’t tempt me!” came the angry retort.

  “And call Jake! I want him here. Now!” When there was no answer, he all but shrieked at the top of his lungs. “Christine, did you hear me?”

  “Yes, I heard you, you dickhead. People on the other side of the Ditch heard you!”

  “If you don’t calm down, you’re going to have stroke, bro,” Jono said. “Let us handle this before you wind up with a migraine.”

  “They made my woman cry!” he said. “They made her cry, Jono!”

  Jono walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. “Jake told you that you needed to make a statement to the press. They’re not going to rest until you do so you might as well suck it up and do it. If you want me to write something…”

  “I’ve got people for that,” he grumbled. “You go get my woman. That’s more important than anything else.”

  “Don’t be like this when I bring her back,” Jono said. “You need to be calm and collected for her. Can you do that?”

  “I want to fucking kill somebody!” he growled.

  “Aye, well, let’s hold off on that, okay?”

  He hung his head. “Just go get her, Jono,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “I need my woman.”

  “I imagine she needs you too, bro,” Jono said softly.

  She left Drew’s room with Mrs. Holloway-Lutz, administrator for Cedar Oaks, accompanying the woman to her office. She’d been in the long-term-care center for nearly two hours and had yet to stop shaking. Every sound made her jump and tears threatened to erupt all over again.

  “Sit down, sweetie,” Mrs. Holloway-Lutz said. “What you need is a nice strong drink.”

  “It’s not even noon,” she protested.

  “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” was the answer.

  Twisting her hands in her lap, she looked out the window where the news people were still loitering. They weren’t as close to the steps as they had been but—like vultures—were circling the grounds.

  “I don’t imagine Mr. McGregor will be very pleased when he hears of this,” the woman said. “I have heard he is a very private man.”

  “He is,” she replied and when Mrs. Holloway-Lutz brought a glass of dark amber liquid over to her, her hand shook when she took the offering. “Thank you, Mrs…”

  “Please call me Ann-Louise,” the woman said. She took a seat on the settee and lifted the glass. “To new friends.”

  “New friends,” she repeated and took a sip of the very strong drink.

  “He strikes me as being a man who gets whatever he wants,” Ann-Louise said. “And refuses to take no for an answer.” She looked at her over the rim of the glass. “Am I wrong?”

  “No,” she said. “He’s accustomed to having his way.”

  “Powerful men always are,” Ann-Louise said. “And in this town, you don’t get much more powerful than Synjyn McGregor.” She smiled. “Or more alluring.” She lifted her glass again. “You, my dear, are a very lucky young woman to have caught his eye.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that so took another sip of the potent brew, trying not to wince.

  “Do you think he will ride to your rescue?”

  She shook her head. “That would only make matters worse. I suppose he’ll send someone to handle the situation.”

  “Someone like that very handsome young native man I met yesterday?”

  “I’m not sure who you mean?”

  “Jon, was it?”

  “Oh, Jono Taunoa?” At Ann-Louise’s nod, she smiled. “He’s Mr. McGregor’s right-hand man,” she said.

  “Was he here to see to Drew being moved?”

  “No, he was here to deliver the new contracts for our employees,” she said.

  “New contracts?”

  “Surely you know Cedar Oaks is now a subsidiary of McGregor Industries,” Ann-Louise replied.

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she muttered under her breath then took a large swallow of the terrible-tasting liquor, trying not to cough as it made her eyes water.

  “My guess is there will be some very strict security measures put into place after today,” Ann-Louise said. “There won’t be a repeat of today’s intrusion.”

  “I imagine you’re right,” she said.

  The sound of a helicopter engine made both women glance out the window. The news people were busy aiming their cameras at the sky and the approaching helo. They were jockeying for better positions from which to get a good shot.

  “Well, good Lord,” Ann-Louise said, getting to her feet. She hurried to the window. “I hope the pilot doesn’t attempt to land that thing on my front lawn!”

  Getting up, she followed the older woman and reached the window just as the black Bell 429 turbine engine helo emblazoned with the silver MI logo underscored by a broad silver fern frond appeared. It was hovering above the scramble of news vans, the downward wash kicking up Georgia red-clay dust. The sound of the chopper did not quite drown out the blaring sirens of the state patrol and county police vehicles that suddenly appeared in the parking area. As the cops got out of their cruisers, the bird veered off.

  “This should be interesting,” Ann-Louise said.

  It didn’t take long for the county mounties and state troopers to disperse the news vans and send them packing. When the interlopers were packed up and rolling back down the entry road with the cruisers tagging along behind, the helo returned to hover over the far end of the parking lot.

  “Don’t
you just love a determined man,” Ann-Louise said.

  “He is that,” she mumbled in reply.

  Before the skids touched down, the phone on Ann-Louise’s desk rang and the older woman snorted indelicately as she turned to answer it. “Yes, Karin?” She listened then smiled. “It’s for you, sweetie.”

  Surprised, she took the receiver being offered to her. “Hello?”

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he said. “We’ll sort it out when you get here.”

  “Here?”

  “Jono is bringing you to my office. Gotta go.”

  He hung up as though there were an impending crisis—and she supposed to him this whole mess was.

  “The great man himself?” Ann-Louise inquired.

  “That he is,” she said with a smile.

  “He spent a good portion of yesterday morning here. Came right from the hospital,” the administrator said. “Poor baby. That handsome face looked like he’d gone three rounds with Tyson.” She returned to the window, speaking over her shoulder. “I read in the paper where his mother was responsible for that. Disgraceful. Utterly disgraceful. She must be a real piece of work to do something so unconscionable to her own son.”

  “I’ve never met the lady,” she said and almost choked on the title.

  “Probably just as well,” Ann-Louise said. “At least you won’t have to spend holidays with such a vicious mother-in-law.”

  “She said what?” he asked.

  “That I wouldn’t have to spend holidays with such a vicious mother-in-law,” she repeated.

  “And how did you respond?” he queried.

  “I didn’t. From the questions the reporters were asking me as I was scrambling to get inside the building, they think I’m your girlfriend and I guess Mrs. Holloway-Lutz assumed we were closer than that.”

  “You have any idea how she came up with that hypothesis?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “You sent an army and a chopper to pick me up. I think she equated that with a knight riding in to rescue his lady love. I gather she’s somewhat of a romantic so she read into the situation what she wanted to believe.”

  He shook his head. “Women and their damn romantic notions.”

  “Yeah, we’re built that way, huh?” she snapped.

  She was sitting on the sofa across from his desk with her legs and arms crossed, one foot jiggling in agitation. There were storm clouds on her beautiful face and lightning zapping through her sultry green eyes.

  “Have I done something to annoy you, baby?” he asked. He was leaning against his desk with his palms braced behind him on the edge, one ankle over the other.

  She turned her stormy face toward him. “You bought Cedar Oaks?”

  “Diversity,” he said.

  “Perversity is more like it!” she stated. “Really, Kiwi? Really?”

  He folded his arms over his chest. “You know I can do whatever I like with my money, Melina. It was a good investment and since Drew is living there now, I wanted to make sure he was comfortable.”

  “Why?” she said, her eyes narrowed.

  “Why?” he echoed. He was perplexed by her question.

  “Why do you care so much about my brother?”

  He sighed. “Woman, you see monsters in the closet where there are none. Why do you insist on reading more into what I do than is really there?”

  “Why do you care so much about my brother?” she repeated, her foot jiggling even faster.

  “Because he’s your brother and I care about you,” he said.

  The intercom on his desk buzzed but he ignored it. Nothing was as important to him as the conversation he was having with her.

  “You got what you wanted from me last night,” she said. “I just don’t see what you get out of—”

  “I got what I wanted?” he said, cutting her off. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Again the intercom buzzed. He glanced down at it then leveled his gaze on her.

  “Answer me, Melina. What…?”

  This time when the intercom buzzed it continued until he leaned over and depressed the key. “What the hell do you want?” he shouted.

  “You have a call from Sheik Rashid Ben-Alkazar. He said it was important,” Spike said.

  “Tell him I’ll call him back!”

  “He was very insistent that he speak to you.”

  “Fuck!” he snarled and snatched up the phone. “What’s the problem, Rashid?”

  “Well, good afternoon to you too,” Rashid said.

  “Is there a problem with the shipment?” he asked, tightening on the receiver. He saw her getting up from the sofa and lost his temper. “Where the hell are you going?”

  “To the bathroom!” she shouted. “Want to come in and hold my hand?”

  He heard laughter on the other end of the phone and ground his teeth. He waved her on and she curtseyed, her eyes hard as glass.

  “Woman trouble, my friend?” Rashid asked in his ear.

  “Please tell me there isn’t a problem with the shipment,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut in case there was bad news coming.

  “No trouble. It will be there on Friday. I was calling to give you the FedEx confirmation number. With a shipment that costly, I wanted to make sure you could track it if it doesn’t arrive in time.”

  “Hold on,” he said, getting a pen and paper. He wrote down the confirmation number. “Thank you, Rashid.”

  “Did your lady like the ruby pendant?”

  “Yes, and thank you for helping with that.”

  “My pleasure, Synjyn. Please let me know if there is anything else I can do for you.”

  When she came out of the bathroom, he was sitting in the chair beside the sofa with his elbows on his spread knees. He opened his mouth to speak but she held up her hand.

  “I have some questions for you,” she said, taking her seat on the sofa.

  He stared into her set face and sighed. “All right. Shoot.”

  She drew in a long breath then spoke on the exhale of air. “How many women have you taken to the Room?”

  That question surprised him and he wasn’t sure he should answer but the look on her face told him if he didn’t—and wasn’t honest about it—she wasn’t going to like it.

  “Several,” he said. “I don’t keep a tally, Melina.”

  “And to the club?” she probed.

  “Define where in the club,” he hedged.

  “To your private quarters.”

  “One,” he said, holding her stare. “And that was last night.”

  She nodded. “Okay, how many have you taken to those chambers below?”

  “To the Dungeon?” he inquired. He tensed, not knowing how she was going to take the answer. “The same ones I took to the Room.”

  “For role playing,” she stated.

  “Yes.”

  “And are you planning on taking me down there too?”

  “Do you want me to…?”

  “Don’t answer a question with a question!” she snapped.

  “Yes,” he said—too quickly and too firmly apparently for her eyes glittered with what he took to be anger.

  “To role play?”

  He cringed. “Yes.”

  Jake’s words came back to slap her in the face. “When the role playing starts, the affair is ending.”

  “I see,” she said. “And what it is you want to do to me down there?”

  “String you up on a St. Andrew’s Cross and beat you with a quirt?” he countered.

  She pursed her lips. “What if I string you up on that cross and beat you with a quirt?”

  He chuffed then circled his spread fingers over his bruised and battered face. “Baby, I’ve been beaten enough for one month, don’t you think?”

  “What is it you want to do, Kiwi?” she pressed.

  “Teach you…”

  “How to be dominated?” When he just stared at her with his mouth open, she went further. “How to obey you? To subject myself to any depravity your mind—”
/>
  “No!” he swore and shot to his feet. “Absolutely not! I wanted to teach you how pleasurable role playing could be.” He flung out a hand. “Not bondage or domination or anything like that, Melina. Just old-fashioned role playing.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as…” He scrubbed his hand over his head and began pacing. “Such as the cable guy coming to the door and the customer is in her nightie. Or the Catholic school girl seducing her teacher. Or the highwayman capturing the king’s mistress. Or—”

  “All right!” she said. “I get the picture.”

  “No pain, Melina,” he said. “No domination or depravity. Just playacting and silliness and—”

  “I said all right!”

  He came to her, hunkered down in front of her. “Do you really think I’d do anything to hurt you, Melina?” His eyes roamed over her face, looking for the answer. “Do you?”

  “I guess not.”

  His eyes flared. “You guess not?” he asked. “You guess not?” He shot to his feet. “Fuck it, woman, you have one helluva low opinion of me, don’t you?”

  “No,” she denied.

  “Hell, yes, you do! You’re no better than my mother!”

  She gasped as he strode angrily to the door, jerked it open and was gone before she could stop him.

  He was so angry the blood was pounding in his ears as he stormed out of his office. Spike started to say something to him but he told her to go to hell.

  “And start looking for that new job!” he hurled at her.

  “Fuck you, dickdrip!” she threw back at him. “I’m going to stay right here and fuck with your nappy head!”

  He flipped her the bird as he exited her office.

  “Sit on it!” he heard her shout and grinned.

  “God, I love you Spike,” he mumbled. “You’re good for me, wench.”

  Instead of taking the elevator up the roof—where he went when he wanted to think or vent or scream at the top of his lungs—he slapped open the stairwell door and ran as fast as he could up the two sets of stairs. He was barely breathing hard when he reached the fire door and pushed it open. He had a moment of concern as it swung shut behind him until he dipped his hand into his pocket to make sure he had the keycard that would allow him back in the building.