by Nicole Snow
“Whatever. My ex girlfriend isn't a horse, doctor.”
“She won't feel a thing.” Smiling, he reaches down and strokes the black bag between his knees, where I half-expect he's got needles meant for elephants.
It's hard not to roll my eyes. “How does Luke know you again?”
The vet looks at me and shrugs, wearing the same goofy smile the whole time.
Forget it. I don't want to know.
“Five minutes, Master Hayden.” Reed's phone pings, which means he's gotten another update from the strike team we sent to bring us Brie.
By strike team, I mean Jackson's three burly nephews. I can trust my favorite bartender with anything.
These kids barely look old enough to drink, but they're big. They don't mind getting paid handsomely for some dirty work outside the loading docks. The baby faces they're still carrying around are perfect for disarming my ex.
I know her too well. She'll stop and give them the time, or loan them her phone if they give a good reason, an easy ruse to grab her.
Jackson also has ins with the local cops going back years, which means plausible deniability in case anything goes horribly wrong.
The job is simple. Get in, get out, and get her to me. Throw her in the van, but tell her she's not in any real danger, as long as she cooperates.
I'm not a sadist. I've heard plenty of grim underworld dealings in my old life as a cage fighter. Living it doesn't suit me.
I've crossed into a grey zone for Penny, and I'm staying. I'm not coming out until she's in my arms.
Several minutes later, we watch a black van pull through the gate, circle around us, and drive up to the old loading docks. Reed looks at me. I shut the engine off, motioning them to step out with me into the cold night.
It doesn't take them long to get everything set up. Jackson's boys have a handkerchief tied across her mouth, and she's bound to a chair when we come in. Brie's horrified eyes turn angry when she spots me.
I hate laying eyes on her again. She's a bigger mess than the last time I saw her in the lobby, wrestling with Penny, tearing into her. Jealousy makes monsters. It causes a woman to use her teeth and her nails, to send pig's blood because I picked another girl, and told her point blank she'd never, ever have me again.
This marriage drove her insane. I look down her body, stopping at her stomach. I'm not sure what the average woman is supposed to look like when they're several months pregnant, but she's scrawny as hell. No baby bulge.
Is the entire thing a fucking ruse? I don't know, but I won't get my hopes up. We're moving forward.
“Let her talk,” I say, crossing my arms. One of the kids works her gag off, while Dr. Plarr starts setting up his goods on a rickety painting cart he's found in the corner.
“Hayden – you're behind this?” She shakes her head, messy blonde locks falling everywhere. “Oh my God. I thought I was going to wind up in Colombia for ransom or something. How could you?”
“Tie you up in knots and screw you over like this?” My eyes drill into hers. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing, Brie.”
“I didn't do a –“ She stops herself, her eyes falling down, deflecting my gaze. “Look, just tell me what you want. You're crazy mad, I get it. But it's not too late, Hayden. We can forget all this. I'll walk away without telling the media what a psychotic, kidnapping piece of shit you are. They'll never know you're the type who'd hire men to strap a pregnant woman to a chair and –“
“No. You're not in a position to bargain. You've done plenty of that with Kayla.” I take another step toward her, closer, a wicked satisfaction burning in my brain when I see how she shuts down.
In all our time together, she's never seen me this pissed. That's because I never loved her. I didn't have a woman worth fighting for then. She thinks I'm going to brush off her latest crap with a bribe and a bunch of empty threats. She hasn't met the new, improved, madly-in-love Hayden Shaw until now.
“We're not here to reason, negotiate, or kiss and make up. You'll do everything I say, or else we're going to have a problem.”
“God! You're really willing to do this to me over that stupid basic bitch redhead?” The shock wears off, and anger lines her face. “Kayla said it was all fake. She told me you'd let it go. We'd talk and make up when you found out we're having a baby. She said she was sure! I can't believe this. You're spitting and clawing like you're really into her, Hayden. Like you love her. I don't believe it. Don't be a fool.”
“There's one fool here, and I'm looking at her. You're more delusional than I could ever be, Brie, if you believed a word my step-mom said.” I close the distance between us, ready to drive it home, wondering if I can make her snap before Dr. Plarr goes to work. It would make everything a whole lot faster and easier if she comes clean. “Are you this big an idiot, or just a spoiled, entitled bitch? You got played. If you ever thought I'd come crawling back after a fake paternity test, trash talk all over Twitter, sicing your friends in the press on me, my beautiful wife, my whole fucking business...”
I have to stop myself. Step back before I give her the roundhouse slap to the face she deserves.
I'm not a violent man. Even when she's taken everything, forced me to resort to this hooliganism, before my baby girl disappears for good, I won't hurt her.
I'm better than that. Better, stronger, and saner than the envious worm I'm staring at.
She's shaking. Tears well up in her eyes. Her face jerks away from mine, into the shadows, and her hands move against the ropes. Her skin scratches loudly, so rough I'm sure they'll leave a red mark.
“I really loved you, Hayden. I'd do anything to get you back.” She sighs, lowering her face. “Did I do wrong? Maybe. But I don't deserve to be treated like this. Not while there's a chance to win you over, fix this, have the family we both deserve.”
“It's over,” I growl, backing away, inspecting the instruments laid out by the good doctor. I look back at her, trying to steel my nerves. “We can do this the easy way, Brie, or make it hard as fuck. You always liked it rough, I know, and I'm not just talking about the bedroom.”
It's true. She never gave me breathing space when we were together. Always threw a fit when the driver, the décor, or the drinks weren't prepared to her royal standards as an heiress to a major hotel chain who'd grown up as rich as me. I had to give several of my guards hefty bonuses, hoping they wouldn't quit and sue me, when she took her temper out on them, hitting them with her purse when they said she couldn't see me during business meetings. I apologized up and down, humiliated by her antics.
Slowly, she looks up, terror back in her face. “What? What are you going to do to me? Are you saying you're going to hurt me? What do you want?”
“I want a new paternity test to start. Give me a sample tonight. Make it easy, and everybody's happy. Go along with it, and we'll wrap this up, quick and clean. Fight it, and you'll make things much worse.”
“A test? Here? In this dirty, creepy fucking warehouse?” She tips her face up, disgusted and disbelieving. “I'm going to tell Kayla everything, you ass. I'm not your slave. We're going to take you for every damned penny in your accounts. You'll kill me tonight if you want to shut me up, make me go away, prove to the world that you're everything I said – a deadbeat billionaire asshole who has no business being any kid's daddy.”
She's out of her mind. I motion to the man behind me, watching as he grabs something almost as big as his fist off the cart. “Brie, this is Dr. Plarr. He'll be helping us tonight.”
The vet steps forward, into the lonely light glowing overhead. I do a double take when I see the syringe he's carrying. Even I didn't expect it to be so big.
Brie, on the other hand, goes chalk white. Her limbs retract along the sides, struggling against the ropes, shrinking as much as she can. “No...no! You can't use that thing on me. Please! I swear I'll –“
“Hello, Ms. Ellingsworth.” Dr. Plarr sounds eerily happy walking toward her, his blue mask drawn over his mouth. “N
ow, now, don't let the size scare you! I'm a trained professional. If you hold still, don't move much, and count to ten, I'll have you out of here before you can say –“
“There's no baby! There's no fucking baby, for the love of God. I made it all up!” Brie looks past the doctor, having a mini-seizure in the chair, her eyes locked on me. Huge, defeated, pleading. “Hayden, get him away! You can't let him stick me with that thing – you can't. I'm done. I'll tell you everything.”
Inwardly, I'm smiling, but I don't show it. It's better than I hoped. I knew she didn't like doctors – she put up a fight the one time she needed to go to one to see about her birth control.
Now, I need to make sure she's feeding me the truth, instead of one more lie.
“Hayden, Hayden, Hayden!” She keeps calling my name while Plarr stands over her, eyeing her like a mad scientist. “Hayden, please.”
“Doctor, come over here,” I say, motioning to the car. “Change of plans. I think you'd better do the ultra-sound. Find out if there's a baby or not, so we know if she's telling us the truth, and we'll take it from there.”
I can only see his eyes, but the crazy veterinarian looks disappointed. “Mr. Shaw, we were just getting started. You really want me to put my pretty away so soon?”
I shake my head because it's better than cringing. “You heard me, doctor. Save your 'pretty' for another time. Until we know she's ready to cooperate, who knows.” I pause, giving Brie a long, serious look. “There's always a chance we'll need it again tonight.”
It takes about an hour. I stay in the room, making sure Plarr is just a run of the mill eccentric, and not a total loon. He lays her down on the table and does the ultra-sound. She doesn't resist. Jackson's boys take turns going out the back door for a smoke break, while Reed guards the back door with them.
Watching the black and grey blobs moving on the little screen is the most tension I've had in my life. If she's bullshitting me, lying about the baby inside her, and it's mine, I swear I'm going to...
Fuck. I don't really know what I'll do.
My first, second, and third wish is to bring Penny home. I haven't made much progress there yet, not until I know she's clean, and there's no baby tying me to my crazy ex forever.
Brie sits up when the doctor lets her, pulling down her shirt, hot shame and humiliation turning her face scarlet. Plarr's eyes narrow like he's smiling behind his mask, and he gives me a thumb's up.
“No fetal heartbeat, Mr. Shaw! Nothing except her guts moving like a clogged firehose. Remarkable, really. I haven't seen anything like it since this man called me about a mule who'd swallowed a whole bushel of bananas, peels and all, and I –“
“Thank you, doctor,” I say, standing up in my chair.
Brie gives me a dirty look for a split second, before she twists her face away. There, asshole. Are you happy?
No, not yet. We're getting there.
“Are you done?” she snaps, as soon as I'm at her side again.
“No. I'll need to see your phone.” I wait while one of Jackson's boys jumps up, digs through the purse they ripped away from her, pulls out her phone, and hands it to me. It's a tacky cell in a pink leather case studded with diamonds. “You're going to get online and bring up your Twitter. I'll be right here, in case you try anything stupid.”
Grumbling, she punches in her password, and then navigates to the app. I watch the screen change, bright and white and blank. “Happy?”
“Nope. But you'll give me a real big grin when you type exactly what I say. Tell them you made everything up, you're sorry about the press, and you'll be deactivating your account in the next two hours.”
“Are you fucking crazy?” She looks even whiter than she did facing Plarr's needle.
“You know damned well I'm not, Brie.” I bring my face down to hers, closer than she'll ever get again, and tap my finger against her screen. “Get typing. I even thought about a new hashtag you can use. How does #SpoiledAndSorry sound?”
“Lame. Ridiculous!” She jerks her face away from me, wrinkling her nose. “I'm not doing this, Hayden. You're asking too much.”
“Yeah?” I stand up, reaching for my phone, and bring up the contacts.
“Wait, who are you calling?”
“Kayla's lawyer. I'm going to have him talk to my guy, and we'll make losing your social media accounts part of the suit. Don't worry. I'm sure mom will be very understanding when she finds out you've blown your cover, and you'll turn on her in front of a judge at the first chance to save your own hide.”
She sucks in a sharp breath, holds it, and grips the sides of the chair. Part of me wants her to run.
She isn't tied down anymore. She can make a break for it if she really wants to. I'm waiting. It'll give me the perfect excuse to tackle her, pin her down, and make her little hands do the tweeting.
“Damn it, fine,” she says, pushing the words through clenched teeth. “I can't believe you're torturing me like this for that woman.”
“Love does funny things to a man when he cares about his wife,” I say. Standing over her, I watch her tap out the words, and then press the button to post it with a heavy sigh. When she's finished, I snatch the phone out of her hands, and stuff it in my pocket.
“Hey! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I did what you wanted!”
“And I'm making sure it sticks. You'll get this back in about two hours, when it's time for you to deactivate your account, and your little confession is all over social media. We're not having any second thoughts or deleted words. In the meantime, Reed has a paper and a pen for you, plus a clipboard for you to write on.”
Rage flashes in her eyes. She looks like she's about to snap. “What the hell do you want me to write?”
“Your statement, with a signature. Tell the truth. The Twitter activity helps verify what's going on here, but it's not enough. There's always an asshole in the other camp who can make the case you were hacked, or had temporary insanity, or some other legalese bullshit. We're just making the truth official.”
“Jesus Christ – it doesn't end!” Brie shakes her head furiously, angry sweat beading on her brow.
She looks more miserable and sour than ever under the dim lighting. I can't believe I ever went for her, before I found Penny, a woman who's beautiful inside and out.
“You'll find out fast this is the easiest part, Brie. I'm doing you a favor.” She looks at me like I've lost my mind. I smile. “This is the only way you stop Kayla from retaliating when she screws you over. If we're able to sink this bitch, and send her packing, chances are she'll flee the country before she winds up penniless.”
I wait for her to sigh before I look at Reed. “Bring her the pen and paper. She's ready.”
I don't get more than a cat nap over the next twenty-four hours.
After we're done with Brie, and drop her off at her condo, we have an afternoon press conference to prep for. I keep my statements short and sweet while the journalists scream.
They want the dirt on Brie. Questions come fast and furious, like what put her up to it, and if I'm going to demolish her in court for slandering my name. I tell them no, she's agreed to cooperate with me while we're fixing this mess. As far as we're concerned, it's over.
Just one jackass near the end stands up and asks me the question that makes my blood molten. Where's your wife, Penny Shaw? Will she be giving a statement as well?
No more questions. I tell them they'll hear from her if, and when, we decide to press charges against the blogs who dragged her good name through the mud. Seeing how half the freelance muckrakers are in the audience, that shuts them up fast.
Upstairs, in my office, I take several calls with legal. They've reviewed the documents from Rhonda and Brie. They'll be presented to the judge in hours. The tepid non-response from Kayla's attorney says they're just biding time until their defeat.
I hold my breath until it's almost three o'clock, waiting for news out of the court. In the meantime, I try to call Melody Silvers, but n
obody picks up. I've never wanted to talk to my new mother-in-law so damned bad.
The phone rings about five minutes after three. “Shaw,” I say, waiting on the edge of my chair.
“Good news, Hayden. Kayla didn't show in court, and her attorney left with a simple statement. She's on her way to Italy. Forfeit everything. Congratulations, my man. The wicked witch won't be sucking anyone dry. Everything your father left is staying in the family.”
I let out the world's longest sigh of relief while my attorney laughs. “Thanks, Chase. Fantastic work. I'll be in touch next week.”
I end the call fast because there's another coming in. This time from a number I don't recognize.
“Shaw.”
“Don't you say hello, boy? I got your message.”
“Melody,” I say, a smile creeping across my face. “Did you see the news, or are you still shaking off your afternoon nap?”
“Ha! I was at the Legion, nosy. These old bones don't sleep before midnight. Anyhow, you're in luck because they've got a radio there. I heard everything on Jim Jameson's Vodka Hour. Said you're either the luckiest man in the world, or the dumbest for letting the little tart off without a spanking.”
I press my face into my palm, rubbing it lightly. I don't have time to care about what the city's favorite new shock jock said about me just now. “So, you know it's over?”
“Cleaned up real neat to sparkle, isn't it, Hayds? Whatever you did, it worked.” She pauses. I picture the old woman smiling over the line. “Well, you held up your end of the bargain. Guess I'd better do the same with mine.”
“Where's Penny?”
She rattles off an address, somewhere in Oregon. “And that's where you'll find her. Great place to kiss and make up, too, if you know what I mean. It's no gold lined castle, Mr. Billionaire, but at least it's got a fireplace to keep you kids warm when the clothes come off.”