by Liv Bennett
After sending the photos to my phone, I give it back to Dylan.
“What are we gonna do?” he asks.
I shrug because I don’t have a fucking clue how we can go about it.
“I’ll be waiting here…” Dylan says with a sad note evident in his voice. Does he really love Chloe? I thought their affair was only a show for the media and Michael.
“No point in wasting your time here. Michael won’t send them back. We’ll have to find them.”
“I don’t know what else to do.” He looks ready to burst into tears, and I notice bruises around his neck. Michael or his men must have strangled him last night while they forced him to watch how Michael beat up Chloe. What a fucked up situation this is.
“Come with me,” I say and without further explanation, I head to my apartment, hoping Lindsay is waiting for me there. Bringing Dylan might not be the best of the ideas, especially considering the possibility that he might be working for Michael, but I so desperately want to believe that people like Michael come only in a handful, one in maybe hundreds of thousands, and Dylan doesn’t belong to that group, and he genuinely loves my sister. If he really feels how he looks, lost and beaten after losing my sister, then he deserves to be part of my little circle of people I trust.
I unlock and open the door to my condo and find Lindsay pacing back and forth across the living room. As soon as she sees me, she jumps to my side and hugs me tightly. The softness of her body helps relax my agitated nerves, and I lower my head to nuzzle her hair. She’s so small in my arms, almost breakable, but I know beneath her fragile figure lies a strong woman, and she’s with me in this. Not being alone in my fight against Michael for the first time feels so strangely comforting and makes me believe we might actually have a chance against him.
“I learned something important, but I don’t know what it…” She stops mid-sentence, likely because she’s noticed Dylan behind me.
“Lindsay, do you remember Dylan, Chloe’s fiancé?”
“Of course I do. Hello, Dylan.” She moves away from me to shake hands with Dylan. I close the door and follow them to the living room under Lindsay’s questioning eyes. She must be telepathically asking me why the hell I’ve brought him here when she has an important piece of information to share.
I nod my answer. “We can trust Dylan.”
She rolls her eyes when Dylan isn’t looking in her direction and shakes her head almost invisibly.
“I swear I’m not working for Michael,” Dylan says to support my conviction. “He ruined my family’s business. Besides, I love Chloe. She’s the love of my life. I was a piece of garbage for letting Michael attack her last night, but I learned my lesson. I’ll protect her no matter what. I’ll do anything to save her. This waiting, not knowing anything, is killing me.”
“What is it you found out?” I ask to urge Lindsay to talk.
She shoots me one of her ‘What the fuck?’ looks but eventually gives in. “I talked with Tiffany again.” She turns around, heading toward the couch. My eyes immediately fall on her firm ass beneath the tight skirt she’s wearing. I can barely focus on her words when she wiggles her hips like that.
“Wait a minute. Did you say Tiffany? Tiffany Jordan?” I ask.
“Yeah.” She cocks her head to eye me suspiciously.
“When did you talk to her?”
“Today, about an hour ago. She didn’t want to talk yesterday because of Zane and two men in the restaurant she suspected worked for Michael.”
“What did she say?” I ask.
“Michael terminated the contract with her the day after the incident with Macey Williams. According to Tiffany, he tried to stop the video of me killing Macey Williams from spreading. That’s why the video showed up two months after the incident and not immediately afterwards.”
“What could be in that video?”
“I don’t know, but I think the reason for my recruitment lies in it. I’m almost sure about it.”
“What video?” Dylan asks.
“The video of Iron Slap,” I reply and Lindsay laughs bitterly.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it, because you’d be the only person who hasn’t watched that damn video,” Lindsay says.
Dylan sits at the left end of the couch, nodding. “I saw it. Only once, though. The part with Mrs. Garnett giving birth to her dead child… ahh… It was horrible.”
“Tell me about it.” Lindsay takes off her jacket, neatly places it on a chair and then plops down on the couch on the other end.
My cock stirs at the sight of her silky skin exposed by the collar of her shirt and I instantly regret having invited Dylan. “What do we do now? Shall we watch the video again?” I ask to distract my uncontrollable urges.
“I don’t think I can stomach to watch it again,” Dylan says.
I switch on the TV anyway, hook up my phone to it, and find the video online. Pulling a chair next to Lindsay, I tab start the video. The images look all the more stomach-churning on the large screen.
Lindsay’s sister, Taylor Garnett, coming down the stairs, screaming for Lindsay, Macey Williams shooting Annette Greene right in the mouth. Taylor Garnett fainting with shock … Macey Williams preparing to shoot her second victim … Lindsay getting up and smashing Macey right into the hook.
Lindsay’s face in the video is one of the most horrifying sights I’ve ever seen in my life, only after Michael’s when he’s outraged. Fortunately, Lindsay’s outrage came from the motivation to protect her sister and the other victim from a bloody murderer, not like Michael who has nothing motivating him but the evil in his black heart.
The video gets all the more tormenting when Lindsay holds her dead niece in her arms, and then hands her to Taylor. Lindsay cries while watching Taylor clutch her baby against her chest, and I turn away to avoid both scenes. It must be the worst moment in the world for Taylor—being kidnapped, witnessing a murder, and losing her own child. All at the same time.
“I’m very sorry for Mrs. Garnett,” Dylan says. “I met her at the engagement party. A very classy lady.”
“Also the nicest person you can ever meet,” Lindsay says, brushing the tears from her cheeks. “She donated over a hundred million dollars to free clinics in L.A.”
“Is that true?” I ask, hating the fact that my voice trembles.
“Yeah. Michael didn’t refrain from using that information to threaten me. If I don’t follow his orders, he’ll cancel the construction project he has with Taylor. If he goes ahead with his threat, Taylor’s company will suffer big time, and because she donated most of her money, she won’t have the finances to back it up until they find new business to sustain them.”
It’s not surprising to hear that Michael has Lindsey so firmly in his clutches.
Dylan ruffles his hair and turns to look at Lindsay. I can’t say I’m very comfortable with him sitting so close to my girl. “I’d never heard of that kind of birth defect until I saw Mrs. Garnett’s baby in the video. Did it run in the family?” he asks.
What a dumb remark to make.
“No,” Lindsay snaps.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just curious.”
“We don’t know why it happened to her. Even if she survived, she wouldn’t be able to see, hear, or feel anything. Babies born with Anencephaly die within a few hours of birth.” Lindsay says, fidgeting with her fingers, gazing down at her skirt. Her voice falters, and I’m afraid she’ll start crying again. I reach over and grab her hand and pull it to my lips to kiss it. She glances up at me, eyes already glittering with tears.
“What in the video could have caused Michael to get all defensive and make him try to hide it from public view?” I ask in an effort to prevent Lindsay from bursting into tears.
She blinks several times and wipes her eyes with her other hand.
“Can it be about the other people in the video?” I ask again.
“That was my first thought, too. Perhaps he knew Macy Williams and tried to pr
otect her name. Have you heard of her before? Could she have been Michael’s relative or an acquaintance?”
“If she was, I have no way to know. Michael never introduced me to his relatives.”
“Zane might know.”
Fuck. Not Zane again. I hate the fact that he’s always the first person that pops in Lindsay’s mind whenever she needs help. But, I should curb my jealousy so we can find out the truth. Especially because she’s right in her observation. Zane, both being Michael’s biological son and much older than me, has a better chance to know Michael’s extended family and relatives than I ever will.
“Maybe it was just about Mrs. Garnett,” Dylan points out. “She’s running the construction project with Michael. Maybe he just didn’t want his contractor’s name making the headlines all over the nation.”
“Although it doesn’t make any sense at all, you might be right,” Lindsay says. “Just like his efforts to hide his homosexuality don’t make sense either.”
“What? Is Michael gay?” Dylan jerks his head to look at me.
“Oops.” Lindsay gives me an apologetic smile, as if I give a damn shit about who knows Michael’s sexual tendencies.
“Don’t worry. He signed an NDA,” I say anyway to calm Lindsay down.
“I wasn’t going to tell anyone anyway. I’m just shocked. That’s all,” Dylan says. “So, you’re posing as his girlfriend, but not actually dating him. Is that it?”
Lindsay nods and gets to her feet, leaning down to brush her lips against mine. Before I can even get a chance to devour her lips, she places a quick, dry kiss on my lips, and straightens up. “I gotta go. My lunch break was over about ten minutes ago. People must have already started wondering where I’m hiding.”
“How about the land?” Dylan doesn’t seem to be willing to end our talk. “Can it be about the land he stole from my father and is now converting to the home development project with Mrs. Garnett’s construction company?”
Lindsay freezes, staring at the blank TV ahead of her. Dylan’s point isn’t without merit, actually. The land and the construction project are the reason Michael got acquainted with Taylor Garnett, and through her, with Lindsay.
“Didn’t your father sell the land to Michael willingly?” I ask.
“Fuck no. The land belonged to us for three generations, from my great-grandfather to my father. I was going to inherit it, then my sons, and the sons of my sons. There was no talk about selling it ever, until Michael started with his dirty tricks. In a matter of six months, one of the most profitable country clubs in the state wound up bankrupt all because of Michael’s intrigues. My father had no choice other than to sell it for half of what it was worth so he could cover the debts and save us from poverty.”
Lindsay glances at her watch with a concerned look on her face. “Okay, all very interesting questions, but I really have to go.”
I get up, grab her jacket, holding it for her to put it on, and then slide my arm around her waist while walking her to the door. She twirls on her heels and plasters her soft body against mine at the doorway, pulling my head down to face me up close. “Aren’t you going back to work, too?”
I shake my head and lean forward to lick her lips softly. She purrs into my mouth, ignoring Dylan’s presence only a few feet away, and I tighten my hold around her body. “I’ll be waiting for you. Don’t take too long at work.”
“I won’t,” she whispers in my ear, raising the hair on my neck with the seduction in her voice, and pulls back. I remain staring after her long after she’s gone and swallow down the strange lump of loneliness forming in my throat. She’ll be gone for at least five hours, and I have no fucking idea how I’ll kill those hours until she’s back in my arms again.
“I should probably get going too.” Dylan appears beside me as I’m staring at the empty hallway. “I’ll ask my father if he knows someone who can track down the van Chloe was kidnapped with.”
“Keep me updated if you find out anything.”
“You too, man. We’re a team now.”
I nod and shake hands with him. Once, I was just one person against Michael, now I have a team of three. Can we succeed? Stop Michael’s violence and get back my sister without any of us getting hurt? If we can, I can’t even begin to imagine how my life will be without Michael’s ever-controlling presence. But if we fail or someone gets hurt in the process or even dies, I don’t have the slightest idea how I will be able to handle it.
The Gossip
The employees of Hawkins Media Group must have signed a secret pact to make work a living hell for me. From the girl at the front desk to my cubicle neighbor, Liz, whom I had a delightful lunch with just on Friday, everyone seems to have sworn to give me the stink eye without any attempt to be subtle about it. No hi’s or how-are-you’s, not even asking which button to push in the elevator. Only obvious glares.
What’s wrong with these people? Did they receive a memo about the problem between Michael and me so they’re collectively punishing me, pushing me to the edge to see how far my patience can stretch? I’d be pleased to show them the consequences of trying my limits if I wasn’t hell-bound after Michael.
Liz not only glares at me as I take my place at my desk, but also murmurs between her teeth something incomprehensible but annoying enough to keep me from concentrating on my work. After several minutes, I finally give up and turn to her, and say, not in a really friendly tone, “I’m burning to hear the reason why you can’t take your eyes off me today.”
I see the other employees turn their heads. Liz smirks and shoves her curly black hair over her shoulder. “Rumors have it that you’re burning for a whole lot of other reasons too.”
“What does that mean? What rumors are you talking about?”
“You and Zane Hawkins. I shouldn’t be surprised at how quickly you could wind up in both men’s beds. A quick help from Google shows you’re no stranger to seducing high-level executives. I pity the idiot you fooled in your previous job, but Michael Hawkins is no airhead like your previous lover. He’ll know how to put your little trailer-trash ass out the door when he comes back from his business trip. You’re no different than a prostitute, just a little smarter.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I jerk on my feet and leap the distance between us to get to her desk, ignoring the curious stares of the others in the office. The anger in my voice and on my face must have scared Liz because she leans back in her chair and lifts her arms to her face to protect herself. I inhale deeply to calm myself down and keep my arms close to my body where they can’t hurt anyone. She doesn’t know the truth, I tell myself. She has no way to know Zane tricked me into it, and Michael is probably the most dangerous man on the entire East Coast. “Who told you those lies?” I lower my head to get close to her face.
She clears her throat and stares at me through her crossed arms. “Julie Meadow.”
Michael’s secretary? The hooker herself, huh! Maybe she’s not as innocent as Tiffany made her out to be for having been forced to serve Michael’s clients sexually.
As if Julie’s bad-mouthing isn’t enough for me to lose my integrity in the eyes of my colleagues, Zane has to show up with an utterly annoying insidious smile on his face to complete my picture as the personal hooker of the HMG’s executives. The fact that I actually slept with two Hawkins brothers doesn’t help my conscious, either.
“Hey, babe,” he mumbles in what I think he thinks is a seductive way but my stomach comes close to expulsing the little amount of sandwich I ate during lunch. More so for hearing Liz snort.
“I’m not a fucking babe. Who do you think you are, spreading lies about me?” Well, it’s actually Julie, but she wouldn’t open her mouth if she didn’t get the green light from Zane or Michael.
“What’s going on?” He strolls toward me, his body swaying left and right like a boat against violent waves, and I smell a hint of alcohol on his breath as he stops before me. I could have dealt with him if he were sober, but I have no interes
t in trying to talk sense into him while he’s drunk so he can save me from this hairy situation. For all I know, he might blurt out the truth about the afternoon in my condo. My colleagues already believe Julie’s lies, they don’t need further proof to label me as the HMG’s hooker.
“Why did you come?” I take a step back to escape his alcohol breath and also because he’s invading my personal space.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Okay, say what you want to say now.” Crossing my arms, I glance down at Liz and hope Zane is here for a work-related reason.
“Why Ace?” he murmurs lowly, but I guess everyone in the office has heard him.
“Oh, God!” I grab him by the elbow and drag him out until we stop at the elevator. When he starts to open his mouth again, I hush him with a glare. We enter the elevator and don’t speak a word until the cab stops at the floor of his office. I make sure not to show any anger as we stride to his office.
His secretary informs Zane of an upcoming meeting in a half hour and nods at me. I return her gesture and walk through the glass doors of Zane’s office. As he heads to his desk, I pour him a cup of coffee without sugar or cream so he can at least get a clear head. I spot a bottle of whiskey and a dirty glass beside it. Why the hell is he drinking on a work day? Just like a spoiled child, behaving badly as soon as the parents aren’t around to discipline him… Is that how he’s taking advantage of Michael’s absence; by getting wasted rather than get some work done?
“Why Ace, huh?” he repeats when I place the cup of coffee in front of him. “What do you, women, even find in that retarded piece of shit?”
I shake my head in disapproval of his words and settle on the chair across from him. “Watch your mouth. He’s your brother.”
“A reason why you shouldn’t be with him. Do you get off fucking brothers? Is that your thing?”
“Oh shut up and drink your coffee.”