Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series)

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Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series) Page 9

by Christina Ross


  She started to get up in a way that appeared aggressive since her teeth were bared. I decided it was indeed aggressive and slapped her again, this time so hard she collapsed on her back and started to writhe on the floor with her hands covering her face. She was such a drama queen that she started to pant and squeal as if someone had shot her. Please. I leaned lower. “You threw a drink in my face. People witnessed it. I felt threatened and have acted only out of self-defense. You and I both know that Alex can and will ruin you socially, so I’d lick your wounds, recognize your mistakes, and leave us the hell alone. If you come after us again, he will ruin you in this town. Now, lay off.”

  “You both need to leave,” Tank said to Alex and me. “I’ll take care of security and explain what happened. They’re coming this way.”

  I swept my red cape over Immaculata’s face as if a bull had just been stabbed and now was bleeding out on the floor. “Fine. Let’s leave.”

  Alex was looking at me intently. I wasn’t sure that I recognized every emotion on his face, but I knew one of them—surprise. Maybe even a touch of horror.

  “No one fucks with you when I’m present,” I said to him. “No one.” I reached for his hand and we started to move through that part of the crowd that had seen what just happened. They turned to watch us as we passed. Tongues clucked in distaste, though I did hear one man say, “Well done.”

  “Are you all right?” Alex asked.

  “Just a little wet. Nothing a girl from Maine can’t handle.”

  “You Maine girls sure are tough.”

  I shot him a sidelong glance, and saw a trace of humor in his eyes. “That woman tried to humiliate you.”

  “What about you?”

  “I don’t care about me. I care about you. She crossed a line.”

  “She did—with both of us. You matter as much as I do, Jennifer. Money doesn’t define a person or how one should be treated.” He paused. “I’m generally not into violence, but I’m kind of glad that you slapped her. She threw her drink at you. What you did was warranted.”

  “I slapped her twice.”

  “And hard. She really went down after that last swing of yours.”

  I took a breath to settle my nerves and looked up at him as we hurried to leave. He squeezed my hand in an effort to diffuse the situation. I had to shake this off or the rest of the evening would be ruined, and I wasn’t about to let that happen. If I did, Immaculata would have won. I took another breath and squeezed back. “She did squeal like a pig, didn’t she?”

  “Oh, yeah. She squealed like a big ol’ hog.”

  “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “Why not? You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

  “Not with my makeup dripping down my face.”

  “Actually, it isn’t. You’re fine. Knowing Bernie, I have a feeling that he only uses the best. Seriously. You wouldn’t know that anything had happened.”

  We cut left and started toward the staircase.

  “You do realize that no one is ever going to invite us anywhere again?” I said.

  “Are you kidding? At this point, we’re a dependable main attraction. Wherever we end up next, they’ll probably have a ring set up for us.”

  I groaned. “The board is going to slay you tomorrow morning when those photos hit.”

  “No one took photos of the brawl. Just of us having a kiss. What’s wrong with that? That’s a fine bit of exposure for Wenn. If the Post is smart enough to use the right photos, the board should be delighted.”

  “They won’t be so delighted when they find out what happened here tonight,” I said as I took the stairs. I lifted my dress and hurried down to the lower level with Alex at my side. “At this point, I think we have a...certain reputation.”

  “Better than having none.”

  “What is it with us? Apparently, we cause a commotion wherever we go.”

  “Look at it this way. We’re the new Burt and Liz.”

  I laughed at that. “Oh, not that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Well, maybe on one level,” I said as we moved through the room and toward the double set of doors that led to the street. “But do you want to know the major difference between us and them?”

  “Sure.”

  I stopped him dead in his tracks.

  “I’d never divorce you,” I said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  He looked as if he was about to say something, but I put a finger to his lips. “Call your security detail. Let them know we’re leaving. Then let’s go to your apartment so I can shower and get this sticky champagne off me. After that, we can have a martini and relax. OK?”

  “I have a bit more than that in mind, but we’re pretty much on the same page.” He pulled out his cell and texted three numbers. “They’ll be here in a minute.”

  And they were.

  When they came, they found us waiting in the entryway. There were four of them, all with concealed guns and all trained to kill. I wondered if they had any leads on the shooting at this point. I wondered if they ever would. Alex said we might never know who shot at us that night. He said that, in his experience, the mystery might go unsolved. The idea that someone could do what they did to us, drop out of sight, and leave us with the knowledge that, at any moment, our lives could be at risk was unnerving to me.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous when we stepped out into the night. In fact, a part of me was terrified of being so exposed, regardless of the men flanking us in a kind of cocoon.

  We left Peachy Van Prout’s mansion on Park, quickly crossed the sidewalk, and stepped into the waiting car, which appeared to be bulletproof. Then we were inside, thankfully without incident, only to arrive at Wenn moments later, once again safely.

  Are they lying in wait? I wondered when we took the elevator to his penthouse. And if they are, when will they arrive?

  * * *

  After I showered, I quickly blew out my hair with a dryer, moisturized my face, and brushed my teeth with a toothbrush marked “Jennifer” in Alex’s handwriting. Then I went to the drawer that held his T-shirts. But instead of T-shirts, I found a drawer filled with expensive lingerie. I smiled at the sight and was touched by what I saw. I went hunting for something that would please him.

  After a moment, I found perfection—a lilac-colored satin halter slip with flirty lace and an open back. It felt sexy and luxurious when I put it on—so light that it felt as if I was wearing next to nothing. Better yet, it was just long enough to cover the bruise on my thigh. There was nothing I could do about concealing the cut on my arm though. There was no covering that because the whole idea behind the lingerie he chose for me was about hiding as little as possible.

  I went back into the bathroom, looked in the mirror, and decided that my hair and face needed a touch-up to complement what I was wearing. After adding a little bit of foundation, some gloss to my lips, and texturizing lotion to give my hair a sleeker, tamed appearance, I checked myself in the mirror. I turned in front of it and thought that Alex might appreciate the look. I certainly hoped he did. After all he’d been through, I didn’t want to disappoint.

  When I went into the living room, I found him leaning back on the sofa wearing only a white cotton robe, which was open at the chest—and what a chest it was. Otherwise, with his legs spread, it was clear that he was naked beneath. He’d made us martinis, which sat on the coffee table in front of the sofa, glistening in the lights of the Manhattan skyline just beyond them.

  “Just let me look at you for a moment,” he said.

  I wanted to make him happy, so I did what he asked. I turned around once and then I blew him a kiss. “That’s quite a bit of lingerie in there for one girl,” I said.

  “You’ll have plenty of time to make good use of it. And then we’ll order more. Martini?”

  “Is that even a question?”

  He patted the seat next to him. “Come over here before I come over there.”

  “Coming, doctor.”
/>   “I think you’re the only ‘nurse’ I’ve been happy to see in two days.”

  I snuggled next to him, and draped one of my legs over his as I kissed him on the neck and then on the lips. He handed me my martini. We touched glasses and sipped. Ice-cold perfection.

  “You are rather adept at making these,” I said.

  “These, I can handle because they’re not rocket science. Anything more complicated, and I’m lost. But thank you.”

  “Thank you. Good vodka can cure the world.”

  “Is that all it takes?”

  “In some situations. What happens in your bed can cure a host of other problems.”

  He smiled at that.

  “Alex, I’m sorry about tonight.”

  “What for?”

  “I shouldn’t have slapped her.”

  “The first or second time?”

  “I’m serious. She’ll probably sue me.”

  “Let her. You’ve got me behind you.”

  “That’s not what concerns me. We’re a couple now. I don’t want to embarrass you, and I’m fairly certain that I did tonight.”

  “By protecting yourself? Come on, Jennifer. She threw a drink in your face. She set us up. She deserved it.”

  “It was like a scene out of a bad movie.”

  “I’d watch that movie again, but I’d change one part.”

  “What’s that?”

  “That she didn’t douse you in champagne. That was a cheap shot.”

  “At least it wasn’t cheap champagne.”

  “We can agree to that. Nothing but the best for Peachy.”

  “Do you think Dufort will call?”

  “No question. We’ll nail down a relationship between Wenn and Streamed. It’ll happen. Now, no more talk about tonight. I know you’re concerned about all that happened, but there’s no need to be. Tomorrow, in the Post, the world will see exactly how I feel about you. That makes me happy.”

  “That was some kiss you gave me.”

  “Wait until later, after these martinis.”

  I hooked my arm through his and moved closer to him. He seemed to enjoy that and kissed me lightly on the cheek before kissing me more meaningfully on the mouth. I wanted him now, but was it the right choice? The doctor gave him his ‘golden pass,’ but was he really well enough? Or had he demanded to be released tonight? I’d never know, so I decided to change the subject.

  “Tank is a good guy,” I said.

  “He’s a gentleman and a brute. He’s one of the best on my team.”

  “I think he took a liking to Lisa.”

  He furrowed his brow at me. “He met Lisa?”

  “Let’s just say that Lisa gave him no choice.” I told him what she did and how they met. “Apparently, she’s ready to date again.”

  “I like her a lot.”

  “I’m glad. She’s the best. Always has been. I want her to be happy again. Enough with the zombies.” I held up my hand. “Let me rephrase that because her new book is a best-seller, and I’m nothing if not proud of that. What I mean is that it’s time for more than just her books. She deserves to be in a loving relationship, which hasn’t exactly happened for her in the past. I wish you could have been there when she met Tank. Instant chemistry. They’re going to meet for coffee.”

  “And that makes me happy. He’s been wanting to settle down for a while now, but it’s difficult to meet people in the city. Usually the best way is through a friend. I’m glad you introduced them.”

  “As if I had a choice. The moment I mentioned that he was a former Marine, there was no stopping her.”

  In the entryway, where I’d left my clutch on a side table, I heard my cell phone buzz and then ding. For a moment, I just froze. It could be Lisa, but it also could be another threat.

  “Don’t answer it,” Alex said.

  I felt a ribbon of fear trace through me. “Don’t you think I should? If it’s another threat, we’ll need to tell your team. We can’t ignore it, Alex. If it’s a threat, your team needs to know.”

  I got up. He followed me into the entryway. With my heart pounding, I opened my clutch, noticed the letter I’d written to him, and pulled out my phone. Alex stood behind me, looking over my shoulder as I turned it on. It was an email.

  “I don’t recognize the address.”

  “Let me have the phone.”

  “We’re reading this together.”

  But there was nothing in the email itself to read. This time, the subject line was left vacant. I saw that there was just an attachment. I knew in my gut that it either would be a photo of me or a photo of Alex. I took a moment to try to steel myself for what was to come, and then I downloaded it. It was a photo taken of Alex and me at tonight’s party. It had been shot when we were leaving after the fight with Immaculata. We were still on the second floor when it was taken. Our eyes had X’s over them, which gave me a chill. In the center of the photo were two words written across our torsos: DEAD DEAD.

  I handed him the phone, closed my eyes, took a breath, and pulled myself out of the situation so I could think clearly. I wasn’t going to overreact as I had in the past. If I was going to be with Alex, this was part of the deal. I knew that now. And there was no way that I was going to live without him. So, this was the life I was signing up for.

  And so be it.

  What had to be done now was obvious.

  “Peachy invited two hundred guests,” I said. “We need to get that guest list from her tonight. Give it to your team. Whoever has a vendetta against you, for whatever reason, was at that party tonight. They’ll be on that list. Your team needs to go through the list and see if Wenn has had any negative interactions with anyone who was there tonight.”

  “That could be dozens of people.”

  “Dozens are better than none. Once your team gets the names, they need to share this photo and the list with the FBI. Let me see the phone.”

  He gave it to me. I didn’t look at us, but at our surroundings. “When this was taken, we were midway across the room. See that giant gilt mirror there? I remember seeing that. It was imposing. I remember looking at it. It was right in the middle of the room.” I spread my fingers out on the screen to enlarge the photograph to search for more clues, but the screen was too small.

  “Where is your computer?”

  “In my office.”

  “I’m going to forward this to your email so we can have a better look at the photo. OK?”

  “Let’s do it.”

  And we did. Alex’s office was large and modern, with slate gray walls, colorful, cutting-edge art, and a bamboo floor. A massive glass table faced a wall of windows that overlooked Manhattan, which shined beyond the windows in a way that underscored the enormity of our situation. Millions of people living in this city, and only one or a few wanted us dead for whatever reason.

  On his desk, was one of the latest iMacs—the one with the largest screen, which was perfect for what we needed it for. He brought up his email, and downloaded the photo. I pulled up a chair, and we were able to see a hell of a lot more than we could on my cell. Due to the amber lighting Peachy favored, the photo was a bit grainy, but it was easy to make out the faces in the crowd.

  One struck me almost immediately—Gordon Kobus, whose airline Wenn was preparing to take over in what Alex already had said would be an ugly battle. In the photo, Kobus was standing just to the right of my shoulder, talking to a group of people but looking directly at us as we left the room. I pointed him out.

  “Kobus,” I said.

  “So it is.”

  “He doesn’t look particularly involved in his conversation.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Could it be him?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past him. I’ve already put his name forward to the FBI and to my team. If I was no longer alive, he might think that Wenn would no longer have an interest in his airline. But that isn’t true. The board will take over Kobus Airlines with me or without me. They know a smart opportuni
ty when they see one.”

  “Does he have it in him to direct someone to kill you? To kill us?”

  Alex put his arm around me and drew me in closer. “Kobus is a son of a bitch. I can see him hiring this out. Is he the one behind the emails and the shooting? I don’t know. But he’s being investigated. Unfortunately, he’s just one of many, Jennifer. It could be anyone.”

  “What about Immaculata?”

  “That, I don’t see, despite all the drama she’s created since I first hired you. That said, I’m no fool. She’s obviously off her meds—there’s something wrong with that woman that suggests she could be psychotic—so her name goes on the list. After all, she was there tonight. And look how tonight went. Still, a part of me doubts it. It’s a gut instinct. I don’t think she’d go that far.”

  “Who’s he?” I pointed at a younger man who was at the far right of the photograph. He was just beyond me, and thus his face was close-up. He wasn’t so much looking at us as he was at the photographer. His mouth was a grim line. He appeared tense.

  “No idea.”

  “Is that a tray in his hand?”

  “Looks that way. It’s a silver curve, but no glasses are on it.”

  “Maybe he ran out. Maybe he’s a server.”

  “He either is or he’s posing as one.”

  “With that large of a crowd, he should be hustling, but he’s not. He’s just standing there. It’s clear that he isn’t moving. And look at the expression on his face.”

  “It’s pretty intense.”

  “And look at the servers around him.”

  “They’re a blur.”

  “So what about us made him stop?”

  “Could be a number of things. Your dress. Your looks. He might have recognized me. He might have noticed that we were having our photographs taken and was wondering who we were. The good news is that we have a great shot of his face. We’ll have him profiled and see if anything turns up.”

  “Do you see anything else?”

  “I see a room filled with people I’ve pissed off, Jennifer. So, you’re right. We get the guest list from Peachy, and we find out exactly who was there tonight. Then, we see if on that list are people other than Kobus whom Wenn is either battling now, has battled recently, or has battled in the past.”

 

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