Hostile Attractions

by Raleigh Davis

  I have nothing, not even my passport, my heart is pounding, and my thoughts are racing. Everything feels strange and oddly new like this, cast through the prism of panic and adrenaline. But also raw and alive.

  There’s a man waiting at the curb when we pull up. Elliot hops out and tosses him the keys. “Take it to my brother.”

  The man nods.

  Then Elliot helps me out. There’s no security to go through, only a few people at a counter, who greet Elliot. He ignores all of them.

  We race up the stairway to the jet door, taking the steps two at a time, hand in hand. Elliot’s expression hasn’t softened since he burst into the houseboat, but his grip on me isn’t hard or fierce. More like he’s there to steady me than to drag me along.

  Once we’re in, the steward steps out. “Just the pilot and copilot, like you requested,” he says from the doorway. “The pilot will secure everything behind me.”

  “Thank you.” Elliot leads me back into the body of the jet where a luxurious sitting area waits. There are several doors that must lead to bedrooms, bathrooms, and the crew quarters. “You don’t mind serving yourself on the flight?”

  I have to laugh. “I can pour my own orange juice.”

  He tucks me into one of the leather captain’s chairs, fastening my seat belt. There’s a little furrow between his eyes the entire time. “Sorry, but all this was short notice.”

  “How did you find out?”

  He falls into the chair next to mine. He doesn’t put on his own belt. “My contact at the FBI called, said that the reporter had revealed who you were and that a team was coming to arrest you. Did the reporter tell you? I’m going to have words with that fuck when we get back.”

  His expression shifts as if he’s caught up short. Because he’s realizing that it’s not when we get back—it’s if.

  “Not the reporter,” I say, distracting him. “Fuchs called me.”

  Elliot goes from regret to murderous rage as fast as we went down the 280. “He found the number? And had the balls to call you?”

  “I didn’t tell him about the takeover.”

  “Like I give a fuck about that.” His hands are clenched on the arms of the chair. “What did he say to you?”

  I actually can’t even remember most of it. “He was trying to remind me of how good we were together. And then he said he told them where to find me and that everything I’d brought out from Corvus would never see the light of day.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  I look off at nothing. That I remember very clearly. “I told him goodbye.”

  Elliot uncurls one of his hands from the chair arm and takes mine. “We’re going to a private island where no one can follow us. You’re safe from him now.”

  “You rescued me. Again.”

  One corner of his mouth quirks up. “My pleasure. Just don’t make a habit out of it.”

  Chapter 30

  A private island sounds amazing. Until you find yourself stuck on one, a fugitive from the law.

  Emily is walking on the beach, pacing really, while I watch from a lounge chair. We’ve been here for three days with nothing much to do. A luxury villa, an island all to ourselves, and no one to bother us? It should be heaven.

  It is, in some ways. When we come together to make love, morning, afternoon, the middle of the night. I know now I’ll never get my fill of her.

  But neither of us were made for leisure or laziness. There’re things to do, a million buzzing events out of our reach, and it’s driving us crazy.

  “Have you heard anything?” she asks as she passes my chair for the sixth time in ten minutes.

  “No. Nothing.”

  She opens her mouth on a thousand questions: Did Fuchs thwart the takeover? Is the FBI going to show up here? What’s happened to that reporter?

  But she already knows the answer to all of them, so she closes her mouth again.

  “How did Finn get this?” she asks.

  “The island? He bought it. Said he’d always wanted his own.”

  “And it’s not under the legal control of any government?”

  “Nope. Just maritime law.”

  She looks at the sky, the sand, the ocean stretching out forever. And then at the luxury villa where we’re staying. “It’s kind of ridiculous.”

  “You’ve met Finn. He loves ridiculous.” Rumor has it he’s basically rebuilt his hometown, putting in a library, parks, and even a hospital.

  She comes to sit cross-legged in front of me, and I have to catch my breath. Emily in a bikini in that pose is kryptonite to my brain function.

  Not knowing what she’s doing to me, she props her hands on her knees. “What have you bought with all your money?”

  “The boat. My car. A house for my mom.”

  “That’s it?”

  “What else would I need?”

  She’s confused by my answer. “You have so much money, it’s not about need at this point.”

  “What would I spend it on?” I gesture around us. “This is not my style. But if you want one…”

  She bites her lip as she smiles. “No, please don’t buy me a private island. We can borrow this one. So, you’re just sitting on how much money?”

  I name a figure that makes her blink. And blink again.

  “That’s… that’s a lot of whales you could save,” she says finally.

  True. I could also—

  “Shit,” I hiss as a brilliant idea comes to me. “I could buy a newspaper. And then they’d have to publish the documents.”

  She cocks one eyebrow. “That’s beyond unethical, and you know it, Mr. Lawyer.” She drums her fingers on her knee. “I guess I’m back to square one.”

  “We’ll find another reporter. You can go slow this time and do it out in the open.” I consider suggesting contacting Callie, but if Emily wanted to do that, she would have brought it up by now. “Hell, you could even just publish it yourself. Put it all out there and let the public decide for themselves.”

  “No one’s going to go through all those documents. And people will say they’ve been faked.” She’s not being defeatist—she’s just arguing with me here. And I love it.

  “They’ll say that anyway. Look, we have a server here. The government can’t take it down.”

  She kicks up some sand with her toes. “Maybe. I suppose I have all the free time to think about it now.”

  “You know what else you have time for?” I crook my finger at her since I can’t take another moment of her looking so delectable and being so far from me.

  Her mouth tilts up wickedly as she comes over and arranges herself on my lap. Instantly my cock inside my swim trunks is hard.

  She wiggles her ass against my erection, which makes it worse. “Do you want sex on the beach?”

  I curl my lip. “No. I don’t want to be washing sand off my balls for the next week.” I nuzzle her neck. “This is perfect. You in a bikini, the sunshine, the ocean. Nowhere to be.”

  “Does this count as one of our dates?”

  “I thought we were past the date part. Now we’re just… together.”

  She sighs, leans into my touch. “We can’t stay here forever though.”

  “We could. I have the money saved to do nothing for the rest of my life.”

  “Nothing except keep your fugitive girlfriend company?”

  “If that’s what you want.” It’s not the future I ever imagined—by tomorrow I’m going to be climbing the walls thanks to all this inactivity—but then I never had the imagination to conjure up Emily. Or realize how intensely I’d feel about her after such a short time. “There are other places we could go too. I started to look into countries without extradition treaties with the US before we left—”

  “Yeah, I’ve memorized them all.” I can’t see her face, but I sense her frown. “I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

  I gesture around us. “You call this suffering?”

  She’s quiet for a moment. “Don’t joke.
You know what I mean. This isn’t you.”

  “It’s not you either.”

  She cranes her neck back, looks up at the sky. “I guess we could make it us.” Her fingers find mine, interlace deeply. “I’m so glad I’m not alone. I thought I could do this on my own, the same way I had all those years, but you proved me wrong.”

  I set my cheek next to hers. She smells of the sun and salt and sunscreen. I suppose I could handle more of this. Months, years even. If she’s here with me. “I’m glad I could be here with you.”

  I don’t regret any of it. Escaping with her was the right thing to do. Even if the law said it was wrong.

  We sit like this for several moments. It’s comfortable. Satisfying.

  “Logan called,” I say. “Still no baby.”

  He also had a lot to say about my running from the law with Emily, which I ignored. I told him only that we were working on what to do next and that visiting us wherever we ended up wouldn’t be a hardship for him.

  I also reminded him that loving a woman meant taking care of her. Being there for her. The way our father never was for our mother or for us. He shut up after that.

  The rest of the Bastards haven’t said anything, and Logan didn’t pass anything on from them. As for the Corvus takeover, it’s still ongoing. But nothing is final yet.

  Fuchs remained silent on the disappearance of his assistant. In fact, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, everything is normal at Corvus.

  I did give Logan the reporter’s name to pass on to Finn. Someone needs to remind that asshole that when someone gives you sensitive information, you better be real fucking careful about revealing their identity.

  “They must be so excited,” she says. “I can’t imagine waiting for something like that, a precious thing you’ve wanted forever, coming any day now.”

  We’ll do that ourselves someday. I think. It’s not time yet, not with everything still hanging over our heads, but eventually.

  “Anything else?” she asks quietly. Meaning anything about our situation?

  I shake my head.

  “I’m tired of doing nothing,” she says with a deep sigh.

  “Me too.” I get up, helping her to slide down my body. I ignore my erection. “Let’s go look for some more journalists.”

  “But the takeover…” The corners of her eyes crinkle. “I know I said I’d do whatever I wanted, but I don’t want to jeopardize their plans. They’re probably already pretty mad at you.”

  I don’t know and surprisingly I don’t care. “They can handle the takeover. Let’s go do something for once.”

  Her expression is uncertain, but then she smiles. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Chapter 31

  “Reporters are kind of idiots,” I mutter under my breath. I scroll through the window, shaking my head.

  Emily leans over my shoulder, her breasts pressing into me. The sweet thing never took off her bikini, which is lovely but also fucking with my concentration. “You can’t judge them solely on their Twitter feed.”

  “But look at this. The moron is talking about Marbury v. Madison, but he doesn’t have the faintest clue. That’s not stopping him from running his mouth though.”

  Her smile is wry. “Not everyone has deep legal knowledge.”

  “Well, he also said here that Five Guys is superior to In-N-Out, which clearly is a sign of brain damage. I wouldn’t trust him with the documents.”

  She reaches over and shuts the browser window. “Okay. We’ll cross him off the list. Which leaves us with five other good choices.”

  “Let’s contact them then.”

  “Which one?”

  “All of them. Let me draft the initial contact message.” I pull up a text document and start typing. Emily presses her tits harder into my back, and I can feel her nipples, firm and tight.

  “Are you doing that on purpose?” I ask under my breath as I try to concentrate.

  “Yes.” The laughter in her voice is bright, silvery.

  I turn around in the chair. “You’re asking for it.”

  Before I can give her some teasing in kind, we both cock our heads. There’s a noise outside.

  Her gaze meets mine. “That sounds like a plane.”

  It is. “It’s the jet. It’s coming back.”

  She goes very still. Her face is a mask, but she’s breathing rapidly.

  “I’ll see what’s happening,” I say. “You go into the bedroom. It’s probably fine, but I’ll check it out first.”

  She clutches my arm. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  I gently disengage. “Only the Bastards know this island exists. It’s probably one of them.”

  And if it isn’t, I’ll go with whoever it is. If I can convince them to take me, that Emily isn’t here, she might have a chance to flee again. It’s a slim chance, but it’ll be the only one we have.

  At the sight of the jet coming down the landing strip, I exhale. It’s our jet. Thank God.

  The hatch cracks open as the crew on the island rushes up with the stairs.

  Ramona appears in the doorway. And behind her is coming everyone else: Finn, Mark and January, Dev, and even Paul and Grace.

  Ramona races over to hug me before the rest can join us. “Callie and Logan couldn’t come.”

  I nod. I understand. “But why are you here?”

  She leans in to whisper to me. “The guys, they all wanted to come right away. But they worried about who you’re with. How she’s hurt us.”

  “I know you don’t know her like I do, but trust me, she’s not what you think.”

  “Callie said that. She figured if you went to these lengths to rescue Minerva, that must be true. Because you don’t trust.”

  Not even that I don’t trust easily. That I don’t trust at all.

  “So Callie got together with me, Grace, and January, and we discussed it. We convinced the guys to come out here to help you. That we could handle it.”

  I lower my head. “Ramona, I—”

  She pulls away. “Thank Callie. It was mostly her.”

  “I will. But thank you too.”

  She nods in acknowledgment. And then everyone’s there, talking all at once. It’s like being hit with a wave of glad friendship.

  “Did we give you enough time?” Mark says.

  “Time to what?”

  “To work things out.” He nods toward the villa. “With, uh…”

  January nudges him. “Emily,” she prompts.

  “Yeah,” he says.

  I’m not sure what to say. They were leaving us alone to…

  Finn laughs at my expression, claps my shoulder. “Don’t worry, we won’t stay long. But we’ve got a lot to tell you.”

  We assemble in the dining room, the only space in the villa big enough to hold us all. Emily comes out, no doubt drawn by the voices. Everyone greets her and it’s only slightly awkward. But we’re all trying, and that’s the important thing.

  Once we’re all sitting down, Dev clears his throat. “Fuchs is gone,” he says. “The board vote came through. Somehow, an hour or so after, he’d cleared out his office and was gone. Completely disappeared. Not at Corvus, not in any of his homes… No one’s seen him since.”

  Next to me, Emily is rigid. Her face is pale. “He’s biding his time,” Emily says. “There’s no way he’ll just give up Corvus.”

  Dev stares closely at Emily. “You had access to most of his files, didn’t you?”

  I don’t like this, but I can’t see a reason to stop him. Emily is the person who knows Corvus and Fuchs best.

  “I had access to everything in the company.”

  Dev steeples his hands, taps his fingers together. “Would he have put a kill switch on any files?”

  “Anything he considered important, yes.”

  “Can you disable it?”

  “It depends.” Emily crosses her arms. “Why?”

  I lean forward, cutting into Dev’s line of sight to her. “Dev,
what are you looking for?”

  I’m touched that they’re all here, but I’m not going to let them badger Emily.

  “Anything and everything I can find in his files,” Dev says easily. Too easily, considering how intent he was just a second ago. “If he’s going to try a comeback, we’ll need the information to stop him.”

  Emily pulls me back, gives me a look, sweetly exasperated. “Assuming I’m not in jail, I can help.”

  “You don’t have to,” I say. She shouldn’t do this because she feels obligated. Or because Dev corners her into it.

  “I want to.”

  Paul clears his throat. “About that. I contacted a senator I know.”

  “A senator you bought,” Mark says with a grin.

  “It was a campaign donation. All legal and aboveboard since I’m a patriotic American citizen exercising his First Amendment rights.” Paul quirks his eyebrows. “But a very large one, yes. Anyway, he’s on the Senate Intelligence Committee. The chairman, actually. He wants to see what you have. The idea of rogue elements in the intelligence agencies fighting over something makes him want to lay down the law. Give a senatorial spanking, as it were.”

  That’s the nastiest notion I have ever heard of. If I had ever been into spanking as a kink, it would be stone dead now.

  “Really?” Emily’s voice is warm with surprise. “I would have thought they’d want to bury all this.”

  “That was his initial impulse,” Paul says dryly, “but some persuasive pressure brought him around.”

  I can just imagine the kind of pressure Paul put on the guy.

  Emily looks to me. “Would that work?”

  I consider it. “Maybe. But you don’t have to do anything. You can stay here, follow the original plan of putting it all in some newspaper.”

  Ramona sits up. “Callie gave me a message. She says you should have come to her; she has a writer on staff who’s done a ton of excellent work on Fuchs and he’d be perfect.”

  “I know him.” Pink appears on Emily’s cheeks. “I figured my going to any of you wouldn’t be appreciated.”