Ford Security

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Ford Security Page 49

by Clara Kendrick


  She cocks her head to me as she closes the door behind her. “Are you ready for this?”

  I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for this. “I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “Now, remember to play the part of a mercenary for hire,” she says as I join her at her side. “You’re not the same Zach Richards you used to be.”

  I stop and take a heavy sigh as I stare blankly ahead at the house. The curtains are drawn to a close in every room, giving off the look that it’s pitch black inside. The driveway is lit with lights planted into the ground, lighting a path towards the front door.

  “What if he jumps the gun, literally?” I question her just as we step onto the concrete steps that lead to the front door. “Like, what if he kills me?”

  She stops and twists to me, places a soft hand against my chest. “He won’t.”

  “You sound awfully sure of yourself, like we’re not dealing with a complete sociopath who has built his fortune on being unpredictable.”

  “I’ve spent a lot of time re-earning his trust after I shot him.” She reaches for the doorknob. “He’s not going to suspect anything is amiss when I alone have orchestrated his resurrection.”

  “Let’s just hope you’re right.”

  “I am.” She pushes the door open and light floods the exterior of the house. She steps in first and then holds the door open for me. My heart skips a beat and then it skips another. There aren’t many men in this world that make me afraid, but Seth Grimm is one of them. There’s just something about him that has the ability to turn my blood cold with just one look.

  She closes the door behind me with a loud thud. Just as soon as the door is closed, I hear another door opening down a short hallway just off the living room. I think to myself that this might be my only chance to get out of this. I could turn and run, could turn and flee and never look back. I could escape back to the Caribbean and enjoy the peaceful waves and sunshine. I could…

  Seth Grimm steps into the living room and freezes in place. His lips hitch into a bemused grin and he scoffs under his breath. His eyes trail to Lola as he takes a step forward and crosses his arms over each other.

  “Dad, I need you to remain calm,” Lola says steadily as she steps in front of me to shield me from her father. “And I need you to listen.”

  “I’m calm,” he grinds out and forces the fakest, most malevolent smile I think I’ve ever seen. “But what exactly is going on, Lola?”

  “I’m here to help you,” I say, taking a step forward and past Lola. “I’m here to make sure your re-emergence back into the world of the living goes off without a hitch.”

  “That’s funny.” He wags a finger at me and chuckles again. “Why would I ever trust you?”

  That’s a loaded question that I’m sure he doesn’t want the actual answer to. And in the interest of not dying right here on the spot, it’s not a question I intend to answer honestly. “You should trust me because we’re both businessmen.”

  He reaches down to peel the sleeve of his white button-up to his elbow and then folds it into place. “Excuse my ignorance, but what exactly makes you a businessman?”

  “I’m a hired man.” I cock a quick glance to Lola before continuing. “For any price, I’m willing to do whatever job.”

  “I don’t believe you,” he snarls and pushes past me, making sure to shove me with as much force as he can muster with his elbow. “You are a man of principle,” he continues as he steps into the kitchen and I twist in place so that my eyes can follow him. “You’re a force of good, unmovable by the prospects of money or greed.” He fills a shot glass with whiskey and immediately throws back the shot, and then wipes his lips dry with the back of his hand. “So tell me why you’re really here.”

  “The truth is that I love your daughter and she’s tired of living in the shadows.” I look to Lola once more, almost as if I’m asking for permission to embellish a story of my own, albeit one that’s half-written in truth. “I’m willing to assist, just this once, to ensure that this event goes off without a hitch.”

  As I’m talking, he pours another shot. But before he can reach down and grab it, I scoop it into my own hands, throw it back, and then slam the glass back down onto the marble counter.

  His eyes drift to me, and his smile wrinkles into an annoyed frown.

  “And when it does go off without a hitch,” I continue, “you can go on and live your life however you see fit so long as you keep myself and my brother out of it. At that point in time, we will owe each other nothing and pretend as if the other doesn’t exist.”

  “Who says I need security?” He crosses his arms over each other defiantly and braces the weight of his body against the counter.

  “There are a lot of people who think you’re dead and many of them would like to make sure you stay dead for their own benefit.”

  He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek and nods. “Are you one of those people?”

  “Like I said, I don’t care.” I shrug with apathy, all the while burying all the contempt and disgust I hold for this man in the deepest pit of my gut. “The money’s good and I need it right now considering my brother has moved out of our shared apartment and we both know rent ain’t cheap in this city.”

  “You know, when I look at you…” He points squarely at me and steps forward to drop a hand onto my shoulder. “I can almost see myself in you. It’s like I’ve jumped into a time machine and I’m looking at myself when I was thirty-something.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I force a wicked smile and hope that I’m a good enough of an actor to pull this off.

  He bites into his lip and nods. “If that’s what you want to do.” He taps me on the shoulder once more before shifting to the right to head back down the short hallway. “Now don’t try anything stupid,” he continues with his back facing me as he opens his bedroom door and steps inside. Once inside, he twists on his feet and leans against the frame of the door. “And I’ll see you both in the morning.”

  That was too easy, I tell myself. Considering the last time we saw each other, he had a gun aimed at my head and was more than ready to pull the trigger with bloodlust swimming in his eyes.

  Lola steps to me and grabs my hand, squeezes it tight. And when I look down at her, she’s staring blankly ahead at a portrait of herself and her father on the living room wall.

  # # #

  After Seth went to bed, Lola took me out into the valley to the Grimm office building. Compared to the skyscrapers downtown, the scene out here in the valley is more muted. The Grimm building stands only eleven stories, but the views from the rooftop are breathtaking.

  “So this is where it’s all going to go down?” I question, my hands stuffed into the pockets of my jeans as I survey the city around us. “Assuming everything goes to plan, in a little under twenty-four hours, this building will be nothing more than rubble.”

  “And trapped underneath the rubble will be thirty-two men, damned to an eternity in hell.”

  “This isn’t going to work.” I want to believe this can work, but more importantly, I want to believe that I’m capable of this. “He’s never going to believe me. In fact, I know he doesn’t believe me,” I say, but I’m basically just making excuses at this point because I’m not sure if my soul can survive the murder of thirty-two men, no matter how evil they might be. That’s what separates people like me and my brother from the bad guys.

  “He’s suspicious right now, but after he thinks it over some more, it’ll be fine.”

  “How are you so sure about that?”

  “He’s suspicious by nature, but once he thinks about it, he’ll realize that if you wanted to do something, you wouldn’t do it this way.” She sighs and places a hand firmly against my back. “If you were going to do something, you’d remain hidden because the most powerful thing in this world is the element of surprise.”

  “Reverse psychology, then?” I cock my head to her and nod in agreement.

&
nbsp; “Something like that.” She twists to stand before me so that her back is facing the ledge. “Now, I know you can’t stand the guy and probably want to put a bullet through his brain right now, but you need to play it cool and realize that the end game is more important than the short game. If this goes off without a hitch, not only will my father be dead, but his entire organization will go down with him.” She rolls her lips together and caresses my chest softly. “The world will be a better place and I know your heart—”

  “This is murder, you know that, right?” I interrupt her and grab her by the wrist to force her to stop touching me. “Of course you do,” I chuckle softly. “You’re a Grimm.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” She takes a measured step backwards and I’m a little afraid she’s going to step right off the edge.

  “Nothing.” I reach forward to grab her by the hand and then pull her away from the ledge. My eyes scan the rooftop. It’s adequate size for an event hosting thirty-five people—Seth Grimm, thirty-one of his associates, some guy named Richard Calloway, and then finally me and Lola.

  “I know exactly what this is, and I know it’s not easy, but think about how many lives you’re saving in the process.”

  I drop my gaze to meet hers. It’s like I’m looking at my own reflection when I see her green eyes glimmering underneath the moonlight. “I know.”

  “Then know this too.” She takes a step backwards and shakes her head. “This world is difficult. It can be almost impossible. Every day we wake up, we have to fight because it’s a constant struggle. We’re torn between what’s right and what needs to be done, but maybe just maybe this is both right and it needs to be done.” She shrugs and lets out a heavy sigh. “Those people that are going to be on this rooftop? They’re terrible people.”

  “I know,” I grind out between gritted teeth. “And I’m willing to sacrifice a piece of my soul for the good, but it doesn’t mean I have to be cheerful about it.”

  “No.” She steps forward to brush her thumb over my cheek, passes me a somber smile. It’s forced as hell, but she’s trying to hold it together just the same as I am. “You and I, we’re not like my father.”

  “What are you going to do after this is over?” I question, cross my arms, and watch her intently as she struggles to come up with a response. Maybe it’s because the question comes out of left field, or maybe she hasn’t given it any thought, but my curiosity is piqued. “Who is Lola Grimm going to be when this is all over?”

  She drops her head sheepishly and pinches at the bridge of her nose before straightening herself out and exhaling hot air. She shrugs and throws her hands upwards. “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Maybe you should start figuring that out,” I suggest and reach outwards with both hands to pull her in close to me. Her body is warm and feels amazing pressed against my own chest, but I can’t help but feeling like she has a cold heart. She’s stone cold, and icy as hell, but for whatever reason, I’m drawn to her like a moth to the flame.

  I comb her hair out of her face with one hand and then drop my head just enough so that I can kiss her softly against the top of her head. In the moment, this all seems right, especially when she snuggles her head sideways against my chest.

  And then I think to myself, who am I going to be when this is all over?

  CHAPTER SIX

  LOLA

  The headlights light up the driveway as we pull back in to my house. But I’m under no delusion that it’s an actual home. It’s more like a temporary home, not a home I plan on spending very much time in. After the bomb goes off I will get as far away from the situation as possible. I will get as far away from my father and his death as possible.

  I kill the ignition but the lights stay on for a little while longer. And in the silence and the darkness of the car, I look over to Zach to see a curious, contemplative look written all over his face. It's torn between fear and the unknown, torn between doing what's right and walking away.

  Though I don't know him as well as I should, I know him well enough to know what he's thinking. Ever since we met, there has been a bond between the two of us where we can almost understand what each other is thinking without saying a word.

  In many ways, I feel closer to him than I feel to anyone in this world. And though our time together was brief before it ended in a fiery explosion, when he was around, he made me feel safe. And that’s more than anyone else in this life has ever done for me. Even though my father has spent his entire life saying his ultimate goal is to protect me, I've never felt safe in his presence.

  And maybe that's because he's a monster. Maybe that's because he doesn't have a decent bone in his body. After all, we are talking about a man who has built a reputation and a career and a lifestyle on the backs of good men. The same good men that I’m hoping to honor with my act of vengeance.

  And though those people are dead, long gone from this world, and though I know they didn't deserve to die, I still can't help but feeling that I am doing this for them. I'm doing this for everyone who has ever been a victim of my father, and I'm doing it equally for myself. But most importantly, I'm doing it to save the world from any more grief from the terror that is Seth Grimm.

  Zach seems to be frozen in place as he stares blankly ahead at the house in front of us. I reach across the short distance between us, reach past the gearshift and drop a palm onto his lap to comfort him. As soon as my touch hits him, his eyes peel over to me. He forces a smile; a smile so damn beautiful that it almost makes me forget that there is evil in this world. Almost beautiful enough to make me forget that evil runs in my blood.

  Zach is an enigma. He’s strong and hard with muscles that protrude from his chest and abdomen. And that's saying nothing of his strong masculine arms. But there's just something about him, something that’s almost like a boyish charm. A complete stranger could be forgiven for believing that he is just an innocent little boy trapped in a man’s body.

  But I know better.

  I've seen how dangerous he can be when he chooses to be. But I've never seen him use that power in a less than good way.

  He doesn't deserve this, but I can't do this alone. I need him by my side.

  I squeeze his hand tighter just before he pops open his door and spins his legs out the side of the car so that his first foot lands against the pavement. That's my cue to rip the keys from the ignition and push open my own door.

  We both land on the asphalt at about the same time. And as we both begin to step towards the house, we meet at the front of the car. The lights finally shut off, leaving us in the darkness while only pale lights that adorn the driveway give us enough light so we can make our way to the front door, where the outside light for some reason is turned off.

  As soon as I push one hand against the door, I realize that something is wrong. The door creaks open without so much as me turning the knob. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Zach reach into his holster to grab his gun.

  “Dad?” I call out loudly as I make my way inside the small home. Zach's shadow hangs over me as he steps behind me at first, and then steps past me. This is what he does. This is his job. He scans the room with his eyes first and then turns his attention to the short hallway that leads to the two bedrooms and the bathroom. I follow him closely behind as he makes his way down the short hallway.

  My stomach drops slightly when I noticed that my father's bedroom door is hanging wide open. It's not that I would be upset if something had happened to him while Zach and I were on the roof top of the Grimm industries building, but it's more that I'm upset at the possibility that my plan I've worked so hard to craft might have hit a roadblock.

  Zach cranes his head over his shoulder to glare at me. And then he draws one finger to his lips to shush me. I do as commanded. After all, he is the security professional. And though I'm completely capable of taking care of myself, as I have shown over the course of the last nine months and the years before that when I worked as a mercenary, I still trust him fully.
It's his job right now to protect me.

  The seconds pass by incredibly slow as we inch towards the bedroom. My heart skips a beat and blood races through my veins. I feel as if I could pass out and with every step I take, I become dizzier. There is just something that seems amiss. Zach finally makes his way to the bedroom door and pushes it fully open before stepping inside. I stand behind him, only catching a glimpse of my father's bed from over Zach’s shoulder.

  And though the room is dark with the curtains pulled shut like the rest of the curtains in the house, I can still make out the silhouette of my father lying in bed. I’m met with a calm sense of relief and manage to let down my guard just a bit, relaxing my shoulders and slowing my breathing.

  That's when Zach flips the light on.

  And everything goes straight to hell.

  I cup my hand around my mouth as I stare blankly ahead at my father’s lifeless body lying in the bed. I've seen the sight before, back when I shot him three times in the chest to save Zach all those months ago. And though I pulled the trigger then, and I plan on being there when the bomb goes off, it still somehow feels wrong. And maybe it's because his death has thrown the integrity of my master plan into question. But right now, I can’t think too much about my plan to end his reign of terror once and for all, because it's a struggle to continue breathing.

  I think I’m having a panic attack as my back hits the bedroom door and then I slide down slowly until I'm sitting down with my feet kicked out. My eyes are only focused on my father's dead body.

  He looks cold but he also looks peaceful.

  There's only one wound on his entire body; a bullet hole right in the center of his head. If I had to make an educated guess, I would surmise that he didn't even know what happened to him. In the same regard, if he would have been killed in the explosion I planned for him, he wouldn't have known what hit him either.

  Zach goes over to the bed and peels the covers off my father's dead body. He leans down over the bed to check my father’s pulse. But there's obviously no pulse. His face is blue and he's been dead for a while now. My eyes shift down to the footboard to notice that just beside the bed lies a gun, which I can only assume is the murder weapon. But if someone came here to murder my father, then why did they leave the murder weapon?

 

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