ESCANTA: A James Thomas Novel (The James Thomas Series Book 1)

by Brooke Sivendra

  “Do you know what surprises me? Her husband managed to live a lie, right under her nose. Was she either not paying any attention to him, or was he just a brilliant liar?” James said, thinking aloud.

  “That is interesting. Both, maybe?”

  “Any follow-up on his actions abroad?” James asked.

  “No, but I haven’t had time to look into it much further. I didn’t think it was a priority,” Samuel said.

  “It’s not, I’m just interested to see what that guy was up to.” Part of him wanted to see what her husband had been up to, and the other didn’t—sometimes you were better off not knowing. “I’m worried about that money, though.”

  “Why? It’s been sitting there for years,” Samuel said casually.

  “Exactly. Someone with dirty hands paid that money to him, and people with dirty hands know how to find money. It’s sitting in bank accounts in his name. How come it hasn’t been moved? It would be easy to do, right?” James finished the last of his noodles and tucked the flaps of the box back in before he threw it into the trash.

  “It would be easy for me to do,” Samuel said pointedly. “But not necessarily easy for someone else.”

  “I still think it’s odd that it hasn’t been touched. Criminals like their money, they love it, and they’ll take any chance possible to get back a bad debt.”

  Samuel sat quietly for a moment. “They surely can’t be waiting for her to claim it. It’s been years, and we know how impatient criminals are.”

  “Mm, I don’t know what to make of it other than it doesn’t make sense.” Nothing was making sense to James today, and that worried him. He wasn’t a worrier—thoughtful, yes, but not a worrier. He dealt with problems as they arose, piece by piece. But he found himself worried about Mak. Initially he’d thought that it was because she was so unable to protect herself, unlike Deacon and Cami. But Samuel was probably the most vulnerable of all due to his skillset and James didn’t worry about him—although his unusual lifestyle made that all the more possible.

  Samuel never left Thomas Security. Never. He had everything delivered and for fresh air and his daily dose of vitamin D he went out into one of the courtyards for a period of time each day. James had once gently reminded him that the building wasn’t a prison and he was free to come and go but, for whatever reason, he liked to stay inside. And that solved James’ problem of protecting him, so he didn’t argue about it. Samuel was a truly weird genius.

  “On another note completely,” Samuel said, “I bought you some more shares this morning. Well, I bought Patrick some shares.”

  James laughed. In the financial world, James Thomas was Patrick McCormack. Patrick owned the majority of his cash and assets.

  “I think it will turn out to be a very profitable buy,” Samuel said with a wink.

  Samuel also doubled as his investment banker. James didn’t ask questions on Samuel’s methods for selecting and purchasing stocks, but he had yet to pick a loser—at least of the purchases he intended to make money on. Some shares he bought intending to lose money so that his trading activities wouldn’t draw any unwanted attention—Samuel took insider trading to a whole new level.

  “Thank you, Samuel,” James said, chuckling. “I can go shopping now.”

  Samuel laughed as he stood and tidied up the remnants of dinner. James helped him and when the desk was clear and the table wiped down, they closed up Samuel’s office.

  Samuel lived in the apartment next to the one Mak was staying in. James said goodbye from the elevator and then continued up one floor.

  He took a long, hot shower, and then turned in for the night. He would need his sleep, because tomorrow had a different plan for him.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN –

  MAK ASHWOOD

  Twenty-four hours. It was the time Mak estimated was left in the trial. And then any period of time it might take the jury to reach a verdict. Had she done enough? Had she pressed the witnesses hard enough? Had she missed a fact, or a piece of evidence? Her mind spun like an amusement park ride and she couldn’t get it to stop. This was it—the chance for the victims and their families to get justice—and the responsibility sat heavily on her shoulders.

  But even with all the angst in her mind, there was hope, and pride, too. She could possibly pull this off. She could win and she could give justice to those who had paid the ultimate price, and for their families whose hearts were still bleeding. And she could say ‘fuck you’ to all the doubters.

  Mak had just finished a late meeting with her assistant prosecutor, and her personal assistant. They were ready for tomorrow, and she was going to fight until the very last word of the rebuttal. You can do this. Mak gave herself a little pep talk as she looked out of the car window. Cami sat beside her in the back seat, and another bodyguard and driver were in the front.

  The car was silent, until it wasn’t anymore. A flapping noise increased in intensity as the car continued to speed along.

  “Go through the next intersection,” Cami said. Her voice, and even her words, were mundane but she drew her weapon, which was something Mak had never seen her do.

  “Code Six,” Cami said, and the two men in the front, in unison, said, “Copy.”

  “Mak,” Cami said, “we’ve got a flat tire and we need to change cars. Deacon is behind us, and in a few seconds they’re going to—”

  Cami went mute and her head snapped up, looking to Mak’s right.

  Mak yelped as Cami grabbed her arms, steadying her as a clapping bang echoed in Mak’s ears. Their car jolted to the left, threatening to flip over on its side as they were rammed by another car.

  “Code Blue!” Cami yelled.

  What is code blue? Mak opened her mouth to speak but an explosion stilled the words in her throat and panic took on a whole new meaning.

  The car door opened and Mak was now pulled from the car. It happened so fast, and her mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening. Either the shock, or the panic, or both, had left her startled and dumbfounded.

  Mak’s adrenaline came to the party late, but when it did she found strength she didn’t know existed. She fought back the arms that were holding her as he carried her into the construction site of a new building.

  “Stop it!” James said, pushing her up against a dusty wall and covering her mouth with his hand. “Shh.” His eyes were serious and threatening and she struggled to breathe through her nose. There was too much adrenaline rocketing through her body and not enough air to calm her mind. “I need to listen, so be quiet,” he said.

  Mak nodded her head and he took his hand away from her mouth. She drew in deep breaths while trying to work out what was happening. She followed his eyes as they darted from point to point but he gave away nothing.

  “Let’s go,” he said, pulling her hand as they ran through the building. The moonlight diminished the farther into the building they went, and Mak stumbled a few times—her heels were not made for canvassing construction sites—but James kept her upright and moving forward. She squinted, trying to see where they were going but they were moving too fast with not enough light. And in the dark, everything seemed heightened. Her panting breath seemed louder, the touch of his hand felt electric, the scent of his cologne floating behind him like an invisible trail was intoxicating. The darkness overwhelmed her senses.

  “Second point,” James said as they ran, and Mak wondered who the hell he was talking to. He came to a halt, tucked her body behind him with one arm, and then fired a bullet. Mak screamed, crouching behind his body.

  He pulled her in front of him now, grabbing both of her upper arms like he was going to shake her. The calmness of his voice was in juxtaposition to the situation. “I’m going to get you out of this, and we’re going to be fine. But don’t scream, don’t say a word, and do everything I say. Okay?”

  Mak wished she could see his face but his voice alone was surprisingly comforting. “Yes,” she said.

  And then he swung a door—one that Mak hadn’t even been ab
le to see—open, took her hand and they ran out into a passageway so narrow that Mak’s flailing arm grazed on the rough brick of the wall. She knew she’d taken a layer of skin off but in that moment she felt no pain. She could, however, hear her heart drumming in her ears and her legs felt that strange, tingly combination of light and heavy.

  James slowed them down as they neared the street, but he kept hold of her hand. “Copy,” he said, talking to his imaginary friend again.

  It was slightly lighter in the passageway and she could make out the features of his face. He looked just like he did every day—calm and in control. “Walk beside me now, don’t run, and keep your back against the wall, okay?”

  “Yes,” Mak said.

  He squeezed her hand, nodded his head and then pulled her out onto the street. They walked for three blocks, their shoulders scraping against the walls. Mak had so many questions burning in her mind, begging to be spoken, but she kept her lips shut tight—for now.

  As they neared the corner of the block, he stopped again. “We’re going into that hotel.” He tilted his head toward the building diagonal across the street. “There’s no cover, so we need to run. Or rather, I need to run and shield you. I’m going to hold you to my front and make a dash for it. We’ll be safe inside there, I promise. Ready?”

  “What do you mean, hold me?”

  “Don’t scream,” James said as he lifted her into one arm and started sprinting diagonally across the intersection. He pushed the entrance door and they were suddenly standing on a black-and-white tiled floor, in a lobby drowning in flowers. Mak felt like she’d fallen down a rabbit hole and into a magical garden.

  James put her down, looked her over and then took her hand. He led her up to the check-in desk. “One room for Jones, please,” he said.

  The man behind the desk gave a smile that hid a thousand secrets. “It’s a pleasure to have you stay again, Mr. Jones,” he said warmly. “Floor fifteen, room seventeen. Is there anything you’ll require for your stay?” He placed two black cards on the counter and slid them toward James.

  “No, thank you, not at this stage.” James tucked the cards into his back pocket and then leisurely led Mak to the elevator.

  “Mr. Jones?” Mak whispered as they stood side by side, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

  “Shh,” James said, with no further explanation.

  The elevator was empty when it arrived, but James still didn’t offer an explanation. When he closed the room door, he bolted it and then turned to Mak, looking her over properly now. He turned her around like a puppet, 180 degrees, and then in a full 360 to face him. He looked at her bleeding arm, the result of the wall graze in the passageway.

  “Let’s clean that,” he said, taking her hand again.

  He led her into the bathroom and when he opened the vanity cabinet, Mak was surprised to see it was stocked with medical supplies.

  “What is this place?” Mak said with wide eyes.

  “A hotel—a special hotel,” James said without looking at her. He was searching through the medical supplies and pulled out several white packages. He then washed his hands and opened the first package containing a white cloth.

  He wrapped his hand underneath her upper arm and gently washed the graze with warm water and a liquid solution from a bottle that had also come from the cabinet.

  “What is going on? What happened tonight?” Mak said, growing impatient with the lack of communication. He was giving her a trickle of information, and she wanted a stream of flowing words from his mouth.

  “I don’t exactly know. That car collision wasn’t an accident—that much I’m sure of. I think it’s safe to assume it’s the same people that have been sending you notes. I’ll know more once we get back to Thomas Security.”

  He patted her graze dry with the cotton cloth but she noted he still hadn’t looked into her eyes. Not once.

  He squeezed a small amount of white cream from a tube and carefully, expertly, spread it over the scrape. It still didn’t hurt and Mak wasn’t sure if that was due to the shock or the fact that his touch was distracting from the pain.

  James tore open another package to reveal a bandage.

  “Most hotels don’t come stocked with medical supplies,” Mak said with a pointed look that his downcast eyes didn’t see.

  “I’ve told you already, this is a special hotel. That’s all you need to know,” he said, wrapping up her arm. He secured the bandage, washed his hands again and then dried them with the hand towel.

  He was avoiding making eye contact, and Mak had grown tired of it.

  “James,” she said, waiting until he looked at her.

  When his eyes met hers, the barrier was down and for the first time she could truly see the want in his eyes. She hadn’t imagined it—he was affected by her. His chest heaved and she felt her body mirror his. He looked away quickly.

  “James,” Mak repeated.

  “Mak, don’t.”

  Mak ignored him, taking a step forward, closing the space between them. He seemed to sigh in resignation. He pressed his hand to his ear, and then closed his eyes.

  “I can’t do this, Mak—I can’t get involved with you. I can’t get involved with anyone.” He pressed his lips together and shook his head. “It’s not safe…This, us, is a very bad idea. And I’m not the man you think I am, Mak. You only know one side of me and the other side, well, believe me you would not like it.”

  “I’m not sure I agree with that,” Mak said. “I’m usually a very good judge of character. Granted, we’ve barely had the chance to get to know each other, but I would like to know more.”

  “That’s the problem, you can only ever know one part of me—one side of who I am, the side that’s safe for you to see, and the side I want you to see. The other side—that person you can never know. You don’t have all of the information about me that you should, and I can’t tell you because it’ll put you in danger.”

  “Which part of that are you more worried about? Me not knowing you, or your past putting me in danger?” Mak said.

  “Both.”

  “Why can’t you protect me from your past? That is what Thomas Security does, right? And you got us here safely tonight.”

  He exhaled a long breath. “There are no guarantees in this game and things happen that are beyond our control. And just because I got you out tonight doesn’t mean that I’ll always be able to protect you. I could create the most detailed, resource-intensive security plan for you and still it might not be good enough. If you understood the gravity of my past, you would understand.” He looked straight into her eyes. “I’ve thought about it every day since I met you, wondering if it was possible to make this work, but it’s not. I want what’s best for you, and that’s just not me.”

  “Don’t make a decision yet,” Mak said, trying to buy some more time to persuade him.

  Mak was a gambler. She took on high-risk cases because she liked the challenge, as much as they troubled her. And obviously her choice in men was no different. He was a risk, one she knew little about, but whatever his past, she wanted the chance to get to know him.

  “I’ve already made the decision,” he said.

  “So un-make it. The issue about me not knowing who you truly are, that’s a risk I’m willing to take. And I think you can protect me…but I think you’re scared,” Mak said.

  “With good reason,” he muttered under his breath. He rested both hands on the vanity, leaning forward on his straight arms. He looked deep into her eyes, seeming to search for something. Fear? Hesitation? Calling her bluff?

  Eventually he spoke again. “A relationship with me would be very different. I couldn’t take the risk of even getting to know you, of even going out on a few casual dates without putting into place stringent security measures. And you would hate the security measures I would want to employ.”

  Mak cleared her throat. “Well, that’s something we would have to discuss.”

  “There would be no discussion about i
t. There would be a set of rules, and measures put in place, and the only say you would have in it would be to agree to follow them. How appealing does that sound?”

  Mak swallowed. It didn’t sound appealing, but she still wanted to have the conversation. “I’m prepared to hear them.”

  James groaned, looking away again, and Mak took the opportunity to close the remaining space between them. She took another step forward and held his long fingers in her small hand. He didn’t tell her to stop, and he didn’t push her away, but he did curse under his breath.

  “Don’t make this decision yet. Let us get to know each other while I’m under your security anyway, and that way we can at least talk about the security issue,” Mak said.

  He looked down at their hands and the energy shifted between them.

  “How did you become so good at breaking people down?” he asked.

  She smiled. “It’s a natural talent honed with experience.”

  Mak knew she’d played the right cards and her heart drummed wildly as she waited for him to make the next move.

  He threaded his fingers through hers and wrapped them around her waist, drawing her in. He paused, and Mak thought he might change his mind, but he didn’t pull away. She tilted her chin up, and he brought his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.

  Mak’s chest fluttered and she opened her mouth wider, letting his tongue dip in, brushing over hers. She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him to her.

  She heard him groan, a guttural noise solicited from deep in his chest.

  His back tensed as her fingers trailed over his thin sweater. She could feel his muscles move, her fingers creating a ripple as they traced his spine. He lifted her up, sitting her on the vanity as he continued to kiss her.

  When he finally pulled back, their breathing was labored, heavier than it had ever been while they were running to the hotel.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbled, and Mak thought he really did look astonished. It was rare to see him portray such raw emotions.