Impulse

by E. B. Walters

  Nothing ever escaped Douglas. “I’m not going anywhere without you, Douglas.” His eyes met Jillian. “Be careful.”

  “I’m overturning an armored car today, nothing to worry about.”

  Lex’s stomach clenched. His woman had a mean streak in her, something he usually didn’t mind, but he wasn’t in the mood. “Sheath your claws, tigress.”

  Regret flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t surprised when she changed places with Douglas, grabbed Lex by his tie, and planted a hot one on his lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  “Show me later.” He stepped back, closed the door, and watched them take off. Only then did he turn around and race up the stairs. He grabbed his tablet and phone on his way to the elevator. There were several missed calls from various members of his family, including his mother. Someone finally talked. Most likely his mother. The calls had started pouring in an hour ago, but he hadn’t wanted an intrusion on what he hoped would be a morning ritual with Jillian.

  Lex turned on the tablet, found the folder he shared with Douglas, and opened the most recent file before the elevator closed. Like the others, it didn’t have a title, just a date and initial KP for Khosrov Petrosian.

  As usual, Douglas had left nothing out. From where Petrosian was born to his marriage to how he came to America and settled in New York. His business was legit—producing cheap clothes by employing migrant workers. He paid his workers well. After a few years, his business practices changed. He was suspected of money laundering and trafficking, yet the Feds never found anything to indict him. Then his only son got killed and Petrosian and his wife went home to Armenia and never returned. He died recently.

  His nephew, who was his right hand man, sold the business in New York and moved to L.A. He owned a loan shark business, completely legit, and several Hookah lounges named Petrosian in and around Los Angeles.

  When it came to gathering information, Douglas was the best. His sister once asked Lex what Douglas did when he wasn’t driving him around and Lex had said, “He keeps an eye on things.”

  He hadn’t lied. The Secret Service could borrow pointers from Douglas. Douglas had an office in his apartment with a montage of screens showing every inch of the penthouse’s exterior, the helipad, his offices, inside the elevator… Fuck!

  Lex pulled out his phone and speed-dialed his number. “Are the cameras in the elevator active?”

  “Yes, sir. The recordings are set to self delete every twelve hours unless I enter a code. There are no recordings in the archives right now.”

  In other words, he’d deleted yesterday’s footage. “When I’m with Jillian, the cameras must be turned off,” Lex said.

  “Yes, sir,” Douglas said, but his reluctance was obvious.

  Somehow, Lex knew they wouldn’t be. Douglas took his job seriously and was paid handsomely, just like Mathews. That was the flip side of employing ex-spies. At least he didn’t have a camera inside the Phantom. Or did he? His phone vibrated again, warning him of an incoming call, but he ignored it.

  The scene with Jillian in the car after she’d picked him from Van Nuys flashed through his head. He’d never asked Douglas to remove the surveillance system before because it was for his safety, but for Jillian’s sake, they were going to make some sacrifices.

  “How many cameras are inside the Phantom?” Lex asked after he slid behind the wheel.

  “Excuse me, sir?”

  “How many cameras, Douglas? The truth or I’ll fire you.”

  “One in the front and another in the back, and three external ones facing front, back, and above. The feed goes to a server accessible only by the code known to you and me alone.”

  He knew the code. “Okay. Turn off the internal ones when I’m with Jillian.” His phone vibrated again. “Contact me if anything is off.” He terminated the call and connected to his assistant. “Good morning, Paula.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve rearranged your schedule, but I can’t stonewall your family. Not when they all call at once.” She sounded frazzled. “They’re all saying you aren’t returning their calls.”

  “I’ll call them back when I’m done with my meeting.” A meeting she hadn’t scheduled. He could hear the gears turning in her head, but she knew when to ask questions and when to keep quiet. She probably assumed it was something that involved Infinitus. Other than Eddie, she was the only one who knew about the organizations.

  “Call them soon, Lex. Your mother made contact with Calaveras.”

  Lex’s phone buzzed. A quick glance showed his brother Chase’s cocky grin. He ignored the call and gunned the engine. When he’d decided to contact Jillian’s father, he’d seen it as the only alternative to fixing the misunderstanding between father and daughter. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  Maybe he should have gone to Petrosian instead. He understood money and business. Relationships got murky fast. On the other hand, Jillian had said her father was a straight shooter. Once they reached an understanding, the mess would be fixed and he could focus on his upcoming nuptials. There was the mandatory meeting with Father O’Malley, a wedding to plan…

  His phone vibrated again and he pushed a button. “Let me guess, you couldn’t resist telling Amy and now everyone wants to know about Jillian.”

  “I should be insulted by that comment,” Eddie said.

  “Does that mean you didn’t tell her?”

  “No, I didn’t, and now she’s not talking to me because I wasn’t surprised when she told me about Jillian after Kara called her.”

  Kara was his brother Baron’s wife, which meant his mother was behind this. He should have known she wouldn’t keep quiet for long. “Do I owe you an apology?”

  “No, but you might want to bring her to the family brunch or dinner on Sunday. I tried telling Amy I haven’t met Jillian yet, but she won’t listen. I want my wife back, Lex.”

  “You want me to tell you how to woo her? I have a few pointers.”

  Eddie laughed. “I’m the married one here. You should be asking me for the fucking manual.”

  “I’ll be married in two weeks, setting a new record, so screw your manual.”

  Silence followed then, “Two weeks? Damn, that’s fast. Is she pregnant?”

  He opened his mouth to say no, then shrugged. “None of your business. Can I talk to Amy?”

  “Hell no. You’ll only make things worse. I can handle Amy.” He groaned and added, “I didn’t mean that, sweetheart. Amy. Gotta go, Lex. Take care of this before things get worse.”

  The next call was to his mother, who was on her way to Vegas. “David sent his jet for me. I should have all the papers signed by the end of the week so I can be home for the family dinner.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “It’s nothing. The family wants to meet Jillian.”

  “Thanks a lot for that, too,” he wanted to say, but reprimanding his mother was not his thing. “They will. Good luck with Calaveras.”

  “Don’t need it, dear.”

  His mother was one scary woman. The next calls didn’t go so smoothly. His siblings wanted answers he couldn’t give them—when he met Jillian and why he was keeping her secret. It was as though they’d discussed him, because each and every one of them asked the same questions.

  Lex was happy to terminate the last call. He pulled up outside Jillian’s childhood home. During their last visit, kids were home from school. Today, the street appeared deserted. Parents were probably at work.

  He stepped out of the car, buttoned his coat, and started for the front entrance. A few feet from the porch, the door opened and the muzzle of a gun preceded an old man.

  “One more step and I’m blasting you to hell, you bastard,” he said.

  Lex froze. The man’s pallor was grayish, and he looked ready to keel over any minute. “Mr. Daniel Finnegan?”

  “Who are you?” He stepped closer, cocking the rifle, eyes darting to the Phantom before locking on Lex. “
You don’t look like Petrosian’s thugs. His lawyer? You think I’d treat you any differently just because you’re wearing a fancy suit and driving a fancy car?”

  “I do not work for Petrosian, Mr. Finnegan. I’m Jillian’s…” What was he exactly? Boyfriend? Lover? Fiancé?

  “Her what? You people disgust me. Mira died a long time ago, along with her child. They’re both gone. Dead. Let them rest in peace. Take your stupid feud back to New York before I blow a hole through you.” The nozzle jerked.

  Lex tried to make sense of the old man’s rambling. A feud between Petrosian and who? Who the hell were Mira and her daughter? “You don’t understand, Mr. Finnegan. My name is—”

  Finnegan aimed to the left and pulled the trigger, hitting the ground a few feet from Lex. Lex raised his hands and stepped back, his ear ringing. The old man was nuts.

  “I’m leaving,” Lex said.

  “Good,” Finnegan said. “You have no reason to fear dead people, but if you dirty my doorstep again, I’ll make sure you meet them and your maker. Damn bluebloods.”

  Fear dead people. Bluebloods. Petrosian. New York. A feud. Lex made it to the car and gunned the engine. Tires squealed as the Phantom shot off, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. Finnegan watched him with a smirk, his gun still trained on him. Future father-in-law from hell.

  Lex didn’t relax until he hit the highway. Who the hell were Mira and the daughter? Did he mean Jillian and her mother? Why would he tell someone both were dead? Because no one searched for dead people. Finnegan was trying to protect Jillian from both Petrosian and someone from New York. Why?

  Lex glanced in the rearview mirror and spied a familiar black SUV. Petrosian’s men, the same ones he and Douglas had humiliated outside Jillian’s house. He stepped on the gas. They picked up speed and stayed with him, weaving in and out of traffic, too. Lex made a call to the one person who’d always had his back since college.

  “You still in town?” he asked.

  “Yep,” Dom said. “I’m having a few meetings before heading home. What’s up?”

  “I want you to contact Douglas, pick up Jillian, and take her somewhere safe.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  Lex glanced behind them. The SUV had inched closer.

  “Fitz!” Dom snarled. “What the fuck’s going on?”

  “I’m trusting you with the most precious person in my life, Dom. Do not let her contact her father. Do not let her anywhere near Petrosian. Get her to safety and wait until you hear from—”

  The impact jerked Lex backward, the detonated airbag slamming into his chest. The car spun and veered to the right. He struggled to control the car and get it off the highway.

  The attack hadn’t come from the SUV behind him, but from the one he hadn’t seen in front stopping suddenly. Petrosian and the bluebloods? To the onlookers, he’d hit the car in front of him.

  Lex ducked as the one behind him hit the Phantom, completely pushing it off the road. The windows of the car shattered and glass rained on him.

  His ears were still ringing when the car jerked to a stop. Someone yanked open the door. Before he could react, something hard connected with the back of his head and blackness sucked him under.

  ~*~

  Jillian didn’t get a chance to talk to Chris until after they were done with the first scene. She left the wardrobe and almost bumped into him. “Hey. Can I borrow your phone?”

  He peered at her. “What happened to yours? I tried calling. Ricky and Cian tried. Finally, I called Fitzgerald.”

  “I dropped it in the water by accident. May I?” She took his phone, but he held on to it. “What?”

  “What happened over the weekend? Did you talk to Fitzgerald about”—he glanced around and whispered—“your father?”

  “Yes, and it didn’t matter. I’ll explain later.” She called Ricky. The phone went unanswered. She tried Cian. No one picked up. Strange. She tried her uncle.

  “What?” he snapped.

  “Uncle Rowan, it’s Jillian.”

  The connection was terminated. Jillian scowled. This was ridiculous. It was one thing for them to tell her not to visit, but to refuse to talk to her was just rude.

  She redialed. It went unanswered. “Damn it, Uncle Rowan. I need to talk to someone.” A few people walking past stared. She glared back. Then Chris’ ringtone started, caller unknown. Jillian slowly brought it to her ear. “Yes?”

  “We can’t call you because they might be listening,” Uncle Rowan whispered. “I had to borrow a friend’s phone.”

  “Really, Uncle Rowan? Who might be listening?”

  “Petrosian’s people,” he said. “You shouldn’t call us. They could trace the call and find you.”

  Her uncle could be so melodramatic sometimes. Petrosian’s men were simple thugs, not computer savvy geeks with surveillance gadgets. “So Ricky didn’t drop off the money?”

  “No. You see—”

  “Why not?” she yelled, frustration bubbling over. “Once Petrosian gets his money, this nightmare will be over.”

  “He doesn’t want the money, Jillian,” Uncle Rowan snapped. “He wants you, but we’re not going to let that happen.”

  “Let’s call the police.”

  “No. No police. They’ll want to interview you, and we don’t want you involved. Stay away until this blows over. Those are your father’s orders.” The line went dead.

  That was the strangest conversation she’d ever had. Lex had been right about her father pushing her away to protect her. She studied the people scurrying around the set. Keith waved to her. Chris was discussing the next stunt sequence with one of the assistant directors. She wouldn’t miss this place. Douglas, in the studio security uniform, moved freely around the set, but his eyes stayed on her. He blended until you looked into his eyes. They were sharp, cataloguing everything. He must have been one hell of a spy.

  The smile disappeared from Jillian’s face as some the things her uncle had said flitted through her head. Petrosian wanted her. Why? The conversation between Baldie and his partner flashed in her head, and Jillian groaned. Porn star.

  “I’m not a porn star,” she snarled.

  “Who said you were?”

  She looked up at Keith and grimaced. “A thug I’d like to torture for making my life a living hell. What’s going on?”

  His expression said he wasn’t sure whether to take her seriously or not. “They just announced we’re heading to Vancouver next week.”

  “When?”

  “Sunday. Filming starts on Monday. Do you want to work on the next fight scene? I have time, and I plan on leaving early.”

  She’d like to leave early too and maybe pay Lex a visit in his office. In the meantime, she wanted to tell him about her conversation with her uncle.

  “I need to make one phone call; then I’ll join you,” she said.

  “Calling the thug making your life difficult?”

  “No. My, uh…” What exactly was Lex to her? Her boyfriend? He was too manly to be called boy. Her lover or the man she was quickly falling in love with?

  “Your what?” Keith asked.

  “My man.” Jillian grinned. Yes, Lex was her man. Period. No more thinking about when she’d get tired of him. She was never getting tired of that man. In fact, she was looking forward to the year of being his wife.

  Keith snapped his fingers under her nose. “Hey, starry eyes!”

  Jillian leaned back, her cheeks warming. “I’ll find you as soon as I’m done.” But when Keith left, Jillian realized she had Chris’ phone. Lex’s phone numbers were on her phone. Damn. The call would have to wait.

  She followed Keith.

  They were in the middle of sparring when she heard, “Sir. You can’t be here. This is a closed set.”

  Jillian’s first thought was Lex. She smiled and relaxed. If it were Lex, they’d roll out the red carpet. She faced Keith and resumed their rehearsal.

  “I want to see her now!” a voice rang out.
>
  Jillian recognized the deep commanding voice. She turned, forgetting that she was sparring with Keith. A punch landed on her chin, knocking her backward. She staggered, her hand going to her cheek.

  A roar filled the set, and the next second Dom was lifting Keith by his shirt and two security guards were picking themselves up from the ground. The production manager, Barbs, and several security guards closed in fast.

  “You like punching women?” Dom snarled, a hand poised to squash poor Keith.

  “Dom, no!” Jillian yelled.

  “Agent Manos!” Douglas barked at the same time.

  CHAPTER 20

  Dom glanced down at Jillian, then Douglas. “He hit her.”

  “We’re doing stunts.” Men! She gripped his wrist and pulled it down. “Let him go.”

  He dropped Keith and grinned as he stared at Douglas. “Yes, sir.”

  Douglas glared. “Is that supposed to be funny, Manos?”

  “You called me Agent Manos. Brought back memories of good times.”

  So Douglas was once Dom’s superior. It didn’t explain his presence on the set.

  “You were to contact me when you got here,” Douglas said. “Let’s go.”

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Gunter, the production manager asked. “How did this man get inside the set?”

  Barbs moved closer, but she didn’t speak. Her flashing eyes said she wasn’t amused. Her legendary temper was about to erupt.

  “Excuse us,” Jillian said, grabbing Dom’s arm and tugging. He didn’t move.

  “Just a second.” He went to Barbs and spoke briefly. Barbs glanced at Jillian and Douglas, and nodded. Then he was striding back to where Jillian and Douglas stood. “Let’s go.”

  Jillian was confused. “Where?”

  “Away from here. Lex wants me to take you to safety until he contacts us.”

  Douglas groaned. “You didn’t have to tell her that.”

  “I just did,” Dom said in a hard voice. He was no longer Agent Manos, Douglas’ subordinate. “I’d rather she knows what’s going on. Lex would want that.”