She shook her head slowly, tilting it at me. “Maybe we would have stopped being friends all those years ago. Maybe I would have gotten bored with toying with Miss Perfect.” Laney shrugged. “But then you had to go running to Miss Mighty Mouth about me and her little boyfriend, Mr. Moines.” She sucked her teeth. “Should have just let the dumb oaf have his fun.”
My breathing grew shallow. “With every barely legal girl in town…”
Laney smiled. “Sure. Why not? It worked for Christy. Dumb broad actually thought she was in love with the ‘couldn’t-keep-his-dick-in-his-pants’ cop. I did her a favor.”
“And ruining her reputation along with mine? Was that a favor, too? I never made a move on Christy, and you fucking know it.”
“Yes, but she made a move on you. Like I knew she would. Poor sad Christy,—broken-hearted and in need of some cock after being dumped by the cop. Wasn’t hard to make sure Kat showed up when it counted, when you just had to console poor little whimpering Christy. God, were you a sap...”
Laney looked like a lunatic. Her shiny red hair appeared almost diabolical on top of her head, and if I looked close enough, I could probably see the horns underneath. I’d known she was a bad friend—a heinous bitch who’d blackballed me out of Kat’s life, but a thief? A potential murderer?
This went beyond even my expectations.
“And I guess killing her was a bonus?”
Laney shifted on her feet, making the skirt at her waist sway. “I made sure she could get out safely…” She shrugged, her fingers touching the edge of her blunt bob. “For the most part. Point is… There’s no way she can recoup her losses. Not without an office. Not without a home. She took the news pretty hard… when Greg called her this morning to tell her I’d sold my share of the business. Word is, she flew the coup. Without a business, Kat’s out of the game… And so are you.”
She reached back, behind Greg’s desk, throwing the magazine she’d pulled at me. “Your precious kitty let the cat out of the bag.”
I grabbed the paper before it hit the floor. Unfolding, I read the headline, printed and bolded at the top.
Billionaire boy Brendon Foxx hides shameful little cheating secret… and we’re the ones to dig the dirt out of the Foxxhole!
I read further.
The article covered the advent of my tiny start-up travel magazine, Tripping Out! Following my movements, the popular fodder magazine had dug up enough info about my new company to bury me with my father. It showed that I had been “cheating” on Foxxhole Publishing… with my business. The exclusive was enough to bar me from Foxxhole for life, and when I looked at the name of the man who’d “made me,” I grinned from ear-to-ear.
Charlie Simpson had done a beautiful job “uncovering” my secrets, and it was a good thing the former journalist was on my payroll; his teaming up with Kat had been one of the luckiest coincidences of my life… and the nail in the coffin I needed to quit Foxxhole without kicking up any further suspicions.
I needed a cover… for the day that I would take Foxxhole Publishing down for good…
But that was a different story.
Right now, the only story that was on my mind was the one that Laney would likely sing in court… the day they’d book her fire-starting ass. I nodded, not revealing any emotion.
It all seemed simple. Laney was practically swimming in glee, and if Greg wasn’t close to drowning in his own nose-blood, I’m sure he would look the same. But I had secrets of my own…
“You’ve got it all figured out, don’t you?”
“Looks like it.” Laney looked triumphant. “It’s too bad that you’re like every other man… You think with the little head between your legs rather than the one on your shoulders. We could’ve used you here at the office. Paperboys are always a scarcity.”
I brushed my fingers along my bruised knuckles, reveling in the pain. It made me grin to think that I wouldn’t be the only one soon. I tapped a finger at my chest, feeling the wire beneath.
“That’s the funny thing about business. It really is like making love to a woman. Guess that’s why you’ve never been worth a fuck… Literally. And the only one that needs to be concerned about paper here is you, Laney. County papers. You’re going the fuck to jail.”
She crossed her arms, tittering. “How do you figure that?”
“You were so quick to count out Christy… You didn’t think you were the only one out for revenge, did you? I called in a favor or two.” I leaned forward, speaking into the wire strapped to my chest. “You can come in now.”
Laney’s gaze wandered over my shoulder and while Greg tried to lift his head, the front door abruptly opened, bringing with it an older man, suited in blue, his silver badge winking on his wide-set arm. Nine years hadn’t changed him at all.
Still as serious as he’d once been, more stoic than ever, he only nodded at me as he walked in, the mustache beneath his nose twitching as he stared at the two soon-to-be jailbirds on the other side of the room. He crossed his arms.
Laney looked like she’d seen a ghost. She glanced at him, her gaze perusing our sudden guest from head to toe. “Deputy Dildo—I mean, Moines?”
“Oh yeah,” I motioned to the man on the right. “Guess I forgot to mention it.” I grinned. “And I guess you forgot to do your homework. You remember him, don’t you, Laney? Meet Florida’s newest Chief of Police, Franklin Moines—again. The spouse of the woman you tried to run out of town… AKA Christy’s husband.”
Out of Sight
Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.
- John F. Kennedy
RISKE
Goddammit, she was gone.
I hung up the phone on my desk, glancing at the calendar on my office wall. It was the last call that I would take that evening, the final marker in another workday gone by.
Karma was a crueler bitch than I could have ever imagined.
It had been six weeks. Six weeks since Kat disappeared from my life. And every second of them had been absolute torture.
Every day, I replayed Kat lying in the bed, gloriously. Every sunrise, I heard her quiet sighs and muffled squeals. And though my mornings were mini-movies of watching myself kiss Kat, the nights were even worse—so, so much worse. Each night when I crawled into bed, I could feel her body against mine. Every time I closed my eyes, I could hear her moan my name.
Or Ethan’s name.
The name I used to remain incognito as the golden boy of Foxxhole. “Heir” to the throne. The quintessential rich kid. In my mother’s hometown, I could take her maiden name of Riske, use my middle name—Ethan, and fly under the radar… Well, as much as a Foxx could, anyway.
I ripped the calendar off of the wall, throwing it against the glass door of the office. The office of Brendon Foxx.
Kat never really knew that man—the man that stands here in an Armani suit. The man with the perfectly-coiffed hair and shiny gold cufflinks. The man that’d been using every single resource at his privileged-ass disposal to find her. In fact, I was due for an update on the status of the search…
I got up from my leather company chair, quickly making my way down the long hallway of our Tripping Out! headquarters. For the third time this week, I knocked at Chris’s door. I decided against it, pushing the opaque glass door to the side so that I could step inside of his office. When I saw him sitting calmly at his desk, I nearly flew into a rage.
“What the flying fuck, Chris? I’ve been calling your cell all goddamn day.” I rounded his large wooden desk, taking up space behind its counter.
Chris’s red face was staring intently at a computer screen. He pushed away from his desk with a sound sigh and stood to face me, looking impish in his t-shirt and khakis.
“I know,” he declared. “I’ve been too busy answering calls on my business phone. You remember the business, don’t you? The magazine that you, Griff and I started? Yeah, that one.”
He turned his
back on me, pulling his chair back out to sit down. I slid the chair from his clutched grasp, pushing it far across the floor. “Well, this pertains to the business, Chris. Now, what have you heard about Kat?”
He threw his hands up, clutching a handful of curly hair with his fingers. “Nothing, man.”
“Nothing?”
“No, Foxx. Nothing.” He stepped closer. “Look, she’s not in Tampa. Kat doesn’t want to be found, ok? She seems to have made it a point to disappear.”
The words cut into me, twisting deeply, but I recovered quickly.
“She couldn’t have just upped and vanished into thin air, Chris. She had to have left a trail. Find her.” I pointed a finger into his chest, clomping my way back to the door.
I knew I was being an arrogant ass, but I wanted answers. More than I wanted answers, I wanted Kat. I wanted her back. Chris called after me, stopping me in my tracks. “Ok, Mister Foxx, just because you’re dressed like the boss doesn’t mean you can treat me like you’re my boss. There are three partners in this company.”
I looked down at my suit, the silk tie, the alligator shoes. I never did break the habit of dressing “strictly business.” But he was right. I knew he was right.
I just didn’t give two shits.
“Yeah?” I retort heatedly. “And there’s only one financier, and that’s me. So, just do what the fuck I’m asking you to.”
“Foxx, get the fuck out of my office.”
“I’ll beat your goddamned ass.”
“You haven’t been able to since we were eight.”
The words fell off Chris’s lips and died instantly, followed immediately by laughter. I was acting exactly like my father. Fuck.
Chris, Griff and I had known each other since we were in Pampers, and we fought like brothers because for the most part… we were.. I overpowered and outweighed Chris by about five inches and twenty-five pounds. The preposterousness of his statement was not lost on either of us.
I walked over to where Chris stood, reaching over for the “bro-hug,” and we broke apart warmly, still clutching each other’s shoulders when Griff walked through the door, mocking our affection. We didn’t hear the end of it for the next thirty-seven seconds.
When he finally stopped laughing at us, Griff clamped a hand on my shoulder. Chris told him all about the “almost-fight,” and Griff squeezed the arm that has just recently healed. I waited for the additional barrage of jibes.
“It’s been six weeks, Foxx, and you’re still looking for this girl. Look, I get how much of an asset she would be. Hell, I wanted her bad, too...” His words made me stiffen. “But the point is…” Griff continued, “we’ll find Kat, eventually. In the meantime, we’ll get a replacement for her and…”
“Replacement?” I step back from them both. “The hell we will. It’s Kat, or it’s no one.”
Griff ran a frustrated hand across his dark buzz cut; his movements were scarily identical to the ones Chris just went through ten minutes ago. My friends were going to go bald by thirty if they kept dealing with my hotheaded ass.
Chris gave me a playful punch, diffusing my hot temper. He cleared his throat, reaching for a small folder on his desk. Handing it to me, he spoke while I read.
“We’ve checked everything, Foxx. We checked her emergency contact list at work. Her apartment’s empty. Her phone’s disconnected. We’ve hit up each and every member of her immediate family. Nothing. She’s gone… and nobody seems to know anything—at least anything they’re willing to tell.”
Griff stepped forward, chiming in. “What are you going to do? How are you going to find a girl you never really knew?”
I closed the manila folder, tossing it to the side. Oh, but I did know Kat. I knew her more than most could ever claim. I knew her anger, touched her tears. Saw her hardened, tough side… and her soft… It was safe to say that I knew Kat Lexington.
My Carmen Sandiego has found her match in me—two souls searching for their own versions of a Hollywood ending. Two people obsessed with success, looking to save everyone around them and forgetting to save themselves in the process.
It seemed like all my life I’ve searched for my own version of success, shocked to discover that it didn’t really exist. Not in the way I once thought it did.
Success was a state of mind. And the closest thing I’d ever found to it is when I was next to Kat, touching Kat, inside… of Kat. And yet, in some way, Kat herself was my success. She was as close to perfection as I’d ever gotten—the lifelong pursuit I never knew I had. And I’d been moping around for the past month and a half, making my two best friends do the grunt work, looking up and down, sideways, and back-ways, knowing that they’d never find her.
I thought about it…
But I could.
I stood up. I knew where she would be. I practically jumped out of my skin from the anticipation. Once I hit my office door, I made a beeline for the desktop, grabbing my laptop and booking a one-way ticket to Tennessee.
***
In the short time since I’d landed in the good old Volunteer state, I’d become obsessed with my watch. Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds at the Rent-a-Car center. A thirty-six minute drive into town. I circled back into the cul-de-sac, and that took two additional minutes. And now I was standing in front of her house.
Four minutes. Four long minutes and counting…
I looked off into the horizon, gazing at the other houses on the street. Heat waves permeated the air, giving the cul-de-sac a blurry haze.
Not cooler than the Tampa humidity, the unforgiving Tennessee heat turned me into a puddle before she ever even answered the door.
The door opened finally, and she tapped her foot on the floor, her voice rough and finesse-less—understandably unfriendly. She spoke without preamble.
“Your friends already called here.”
I nodded slowly. “I know.”
“Not really a fan of guests at this hour. If you knew me at all, you would’ve known to come later.”
I was at a loss for words. “Sorry?”
“Yeah,” she responded. “You should be. In a lot of cases, I’ve glanced at people right from the front window where I knew they could see me. Still didn’t open the door. For you? I just decided to let you sweat it out a bit.”
I found my voice. “You mean, literally, of course.” I glanced down at my wet clothing.
“Hell yeah,” she exclaimed, gaining a twinkle in her icy blue eyes. She paused for a beat, scrutinizing me. She stopped tapping that foot.
“You’re taller than I expected,” she declared.
“Excuse me?”
“You know I’m not supposed to let you in.”
I tightened my lips together, bobbing my head up and down. “Kat must’a told you, huh?”
She brushed her blonde bangs to the side, squinting at me. “She said if a gorgeous man comes to the door, don’t let his ass in. Lucky for you, I don’t like to follow rules very much.” She stepped aside, motioning towards her living room. “Now, get your sweaty ass in here.” I raised an eyebrow but said nothing. If this was her way of rolling out the welcome mat, then I was going to take what I could get.
Kat’s sister, Elena, was just as petite as she was. I walked past her small frame further into the house, hanging just past the threshold as she closed the door. Her blunt demeanor almost made me smile, it’s so like Kat. But where Kat had lush brown waterfalls of hair, Elena had a platinum bob. Their features weren’t very similar at all… save for those amazing blue eyes. They were the dead giveaway.
Elena locked the door behind us, slinking toward a cream-colored couch. “Don’t sit your sweaty ass cheeks on my sofa,” she warned me. “That chair over there should be good enough.”
The chair she pointed at would barely fit me. She flounced down onto the couch, glaring openly at me, and at that moment, I saw that I’d been relegated to the “Kindergartener seat.”
I clasp my hands together, hunching over. “Listen, Elena, I did
n’t want to drag you into this, but I don’t really have a choice at this point. I’ve been looking everywhere for Kat. There are… things I need to tell her. So many things I have to say. And that’s why I’m here. I’m… I’m…”
I paused. What was I? I sat silently for several seconds, searching for the right word until I found it. I sighed heavily.
“Elena… I’m desperate here. Can you tell me where Kat is?”
Elena leaned further back into the couch cushions, quietly regarding me. I felt like a wanted prisoner standing in front of a harsh and exacting judge. The seconds passed by slowly and while I waited for the final verdict, a blue object on the coffee table caught my eye.
It was Kat’s bracelet. I saw it the day I met her. Wrapped around her wrist. It was here now in Elena’s house, and it looked different, misplaced. It had traveled long and far to get here. And its presence here could have only meant one thing.
“I’ve just missed her, haven’t I?”
Elena didn’t hesitate this time. “Yup, she just left. She took off right after your friends came looking, then she circled back around when the coast was clear. She’s gone now… hit the road last night.” She leaned in closer towards me. “Look, Kat told me what you’ve done, the secrets you’ve kept from her. I’ve been sitting here since you walked in the door, trying to make a decision about whether or not I should have Ted beat your Richie Rich ass now… or later.”
I was thrown off, not expecting this quick turn in conversation.
“Who’s Ted?” I asked, staring further into the house.
“My no-good boyfriend. He’s one of those new-age hippies that smokes pot and stares at flowers all day, but he’ll make an exception if I tell him what you’ve done to Kat.”
I glanced at Elena’s sardonic face and then the door. I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Leaving was almost tempting. I could easily take off. Disappear back to Tampa. Leave Kat and this whole ordeal behind me.
Riske and Revenge: A Second Chance, Enemies Romance (Revenge series Book 1) Page 19