Impulse

by E. B. Walters

  The woman stood. “I didn’t come back to this godforsaken country to be laughed at by a commoner. You will step aside willingly or suffer the consequences, because I’m not leaving without her. She’s my only grandchild and the last of the Zakarians.”

  Lex didn’t know Armenian history, but he understood what the word commoner meant. He didn’t care if Jillian was the future leader of some eastern European empire. She belonged with him.

  “I’m sorry, ma’am, but there’s no money in this world that could ever make me let her go or replace what I plan to give her. My love. Because you see, she already has my heart.”

  The woman laughed. “Heart. Men. I plan to give her something she never had. Family. History. Roots. A legacy. Can you deny her these things and live with yourself?”

  CHAPTER 20

  “These two people haven’t moved since we got here,” Rake said, tapping the screen of his laptop.

  Jillian’s grip tightened on the back of his seat. He was in the front passenger seat, and she was behind him in the middle row, practically climbing over his broad shoulders to see the screen better. One of those people could be Lex. She swallowed, her throat so tight and mouth so dry she could gag.

  “But they’re alive, right?” she asked.

  “Yes.” Rake explained how infra-red satellite imagery worked.

  Four people were moving around at the front of the club. Several more were in the back. Lucien, the designated driver, had parked across the street from Petrosian Hookah Lounge. The traffic on the street was heavy, but the pedestrians were few. This side of San Juan tended to get busy at night and on weekends since it had a higher concentration of clubs and bars.

  The waiting was unbearable. They’d barely arrived, but it seemed like forever. She was still amazed the men had let her come.

  Rake tapped a key, and a live feed from whatever gismos he’d pinned on Dom and Sloan’s jackets replaced the infra-red pictures. As soon as the two men disappeared inside the club, the screen split into four, showing the entire club.

  The club was done in red, gold, and black. From draperies to the floor. It had Middle Eastern mosaic chandeliers, low back couches, and areas for the belly-dancers. Near the bar were long tables with hookah pipes. The four men they’d seen earlier were wiping down tables and seats.

  Dom approached one of them. “Where’s Mr. Petrosian?”

  The screen showed the man studying Dom as though deciding whether he was friend or foe. Stupid man. It didn’t take brains to know Dom could kick ass from here to hell and back. He had an aura of menace about him. Sloan was the opposite, the gentle giant.

  “Which one? We’re all Petrosians,” the man said and laughed. His friends joined him.

  Within seconds, Dom and Sloan had disarmed the men and taken their guns. They clipped them with the butt of their own guns and walked away before they hit the floor.

  Okay, maybe the gentle giant was just the persona Sloan adopted to disarm people. He moved fast, like Lex. Maybe they’d all trained together or something.

  Dom’s face filled the screen. “Coast is clear. We’re going to check on the other four.”

  Rake glanced back at Cade and Rod. The two were seated behind Jillian in the back seat. “Your turn.”

  “Why can’t I go with them?” Jillian asked. “Lex could be one of the two not moving. Hurt and needing me.”

  “No,” Rake said, his eyes on his screen. “We don’t deviate from the plan. You stay put.”

  Cade and Rod chuckled as they left the SUV and took off across the street. Jillian wanted to scream. Instead, she glared at Rake. Men and their know-it-all attitudes. This one was completely unlikeable. She glanced at Aiden, debating whether to work on him. He was the moneyman while Lucien, the boyish-looking one and Deedee’s love interest, was behind the wheel. Apparently, he had a thing for fast cars. He drove like a maniac once they landed the two choppers at John Wayne and hopped into a rental SUV.

  Lucien and the Brit had caved a second after Dom when she’d turned on the waterworks earlier. Sloan had groaned and looked away. Rod and Cade were total softies and had tried to comfort her. Only Rake had watched her with annoyance and said, “You’re fucking kidding me.” Which had earned him a glare from the others. Deedee might be right about him being a robot masquerading as a human.

  “Don’t look at me, luv,” Aiden said. “I’m outnumbered by the damn Yanks.”

  “Quit pulling that Brit crap every time you want to get out of taking sides, Aiden,” Lucien snapped, his eyes volleying between the club entrance and the screen of Rake’s computer, which showed a hallway. “What’s keeping them? We’re missing out on all the action.”

  “Eyes on the live feed, Aiden,” Rake said impatiently. “They’re getting closer to the other four. As soon as they find Lex, you take the money inside.”

  Dom and Sloan turned the corner, their camera capturing the two people standing by a door. Jillian recognized Douglas right away.

  “What the fuck?” she exclaimed, and the men in the car all turned to stare at her. Dom and Sloan heard her through the two-way com-system and laughed.

  Annoyed at their reaction, and refusing to be embarrassed because she’d dropped the F-bomb, Jillian bristled and said, “Yeah, I’m a quick study.”

  The conversation that followed between Dom and Douglas had her jaw dropping. Lex and the boss, as the man with Douglas called Petrosian, were having tea. Tea. After they terrorized her, ran him off the road, and totaled his Phantom? Something wasn’t right. Jillian reached for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Rake asked in a hard voice.

  This particular billionaire was now on her dislike list. And his goatee wasn’t that cute anymore. “Inside to find Lex. And no, I’m not waiting in here like some pearl-wearing debutant or following your plan.” When his eyes narrowed, she added, “Try to stop me and I swear I’ll kick you in the balls.”

  Rake looked at her like he wanted to shake her until all her teeth fell out. Aiden and Lucien laughed. The other four joined them. That stupid communication system didn’t miss a thing.

  Jillian grabbed the duffel bag, jumped from the SUV, and sprinted across the street. A car swerved to avoid hitting her. The driver honked and screeched to a stop a few feet away. She reached the entrance when someone called her name, but she kept going.

  “Slow down, goddamn it,” Rake yelled.

  Great. He just had to be the one to come after her.

  She raced across the club, skirting around tables. He yelled her name, and for one insane moment she thought he sounded like Cian. They both had the same arrogant, know-it-all voice that grated. The men Dom and Sloan had knocked out were still kissing the floor. She reached the hallway at a full run, almost bumping into Cade and Rod, who were coming from the left.

  “Whoa, slow down,” one of them said.

  “What’s going on?” another asked, but Jillian was already sprinting toward the office where her man was having a tea party with the enemy.

  “How can she run so fast?” she heard Rake ask, sounding annoyed. She almost grinned.

  Douglas saw her first and alerted Dom and Sloan. “Don’t bother telling me I can’t go inside, because I am,” she warned him.

  “I wasn’t planning to, Ms. Jillian.” He stepped aside, but the other guy standing sentry didn’t move. Douglas indicated to him, but he shook his head.

  Jillian knew he was packing. She’d seen the bulge behind his back. She walked up to him and stood so close she could see his nostril hairs.

  “Do you know who I am?” she asked softly.

  “No, ma’am,” he said and took a step back. Jillian followed him and poked at his chest.

  “I am Jillian. Fucking. Finnegan.” Her hand crept behind him as she continued to jab at him. “I am the reason your boss hurt my boyfriend.” She whipped the gun from behind him and pressed it under his chin. “Now get the fuck out of my way.”

  The man swallowed and shuffled out of the way. Still watc
hing him, she dismantled the gun, dropping each piece, except the clip. “I’ll keep this if you don’t mind.”

  “Jillian Finnegan! How many times have I told you to stop cursing like your brothers?”

  Jillian froze. Then she slowly turned and faced her father. “What are you doing here, Dad?”

  “Didn’t I tell you to leave this alone?” he asked. “And don’t think I don’t know you’ve been riding with your brothers behind my back. The Phantom Rider. Splitting the Globe of Death.”

  She cringed with each word.

  “Stay with your brothers until I’m done here,” he ordered and the urge to obey followed, but Jillian had a lot more at stake than pissing him off. Lex was in there. Drinking tea with her family’s nemesis. Probably making deals to keep her safe.

  “I have business to finish here too, Dad. I’m paying Petrosian what you owe him, and I’m taking Lex home.”

  “You don’t understand, Jilly. Petrosian is—”

  “I don’t care.” Jillian whipped around and pushed the door. It swung on its hinges and bounced back, almost slamming into her face. It hit her arm, but she didn’t feel anything. Her eyes had met Lex’s.

  Relief coursed through her, leaving her weak and teary.

  She dropped the bag of money and sailed into his arms. He was okay. He had to be because he was walking and having tea. She wasn’t even angry about that anymore.

  Jillian leaned back and took inventory of his injuries. The bruise on his forehead looked nasty, but the rest were minor.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered.

  He smiled and wiped her cheeks. She hadn’t realized she was crying. He kissed her, soothing her raw nerves. She clung to him. There was no way she was letting him go. She couldn’t. They had a year, and she planned to make the most of it. When the time came to leave him, she would go with no regrets. Reluctantly, she left his arms.

  “You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, glancing over her shoulder. “I’m dealing with her now.”

  Her? Jillian wasn’t sure who he was talking to. Then she noticed the other occupant of the room. An elderly woman.

  “Where’s Petrosian?” Jillian asked.

  “I am Petrosian’s wife,” the woman said, her eyes shining with a weird intensity as she started around the couch, her hands lifting to press against her heart. “My name is Alin Petrosian.” She stopped and gave Jillian a shaky smile. “I am your grandmother.”

  Jillian’s gaze volleyed between Lex and the woman. Her what? Anger slammed into her. She had no grandparents. Her mother came from the system. A ward of the state dumped on the steps of some church. She had no parents or grandparents worth knowing.

  “Yeah, sure.” She reached down for the duffel bag and thrust it at her. “There’s the three-fifty. Your husband is very lucky he isn’t here today or I would have given him a black eye.”

  Mrs. Petrosian continued to stare at Jillian. She was sure the old woman hadn’t heard a thing she’d just said.

  “Take it, lady. We don’t have the whole day.”

  The woman shook her head. “You have Jivan’s eyes.”

  “Yeah.” Jillian dropped the bag and turned to Lex. “Let’s get out of here. And don’t ever scare me like that again.”

  Lex palmed her arm and led her toward the door, grinning. “I promise. Why don’t you go with the guys while I finish here?”

  His friends stood behind her father and brothers, towering over them. Cian and Ricky looked worried while her father looked ready to commit mayhem. She followed his angry gaze to Mrs. Petrosian. Jillian noticed her tearful eyes. In her anger, she hadn’t really paid attention to them. They were turquoise. Like hers.

  “What do you need to finish?” Jillian asked Lex, her eyes locked with the old woman. “She has the money my father owed her husband. End of story.”

  “Your father was my son, Jivan,” the woman said. “Not this circus clown.”

  “Do not call my father a clown,” Jillian snapped. She might be angry with him for disowning her, but no one was allowed to belittle him or what he did.

  The woman reached inside her bag and whipped out something. “Look at his picture and tell me you don’t remember him.”

  Jillian ignored the picture and studied the woman instead. Turquoise eyes were unusual, but that didn’t mean jack. She could be wearing contacts. Her complexion was dark. She had dark hair and regal bearing. She also had no problem setting thugs on people. She was everything Jillian wasn’t.

  “I don’t know you, lady, or your son. Stay away from me and my family.” Jillian gripped Lex’s hand and started to turn away, but the woman made a mewling sound and clasped her chest as though she was having a heart attack. Jillian shook her head. She had seen better acting.

  “You and your mother, Mira Lipinski, left New York when you were seven,” the woman called out.

  Jillian’s heart squeezed. She stopped and turned. “Don’t you dare—”

  “She was running away from my husband. It was right after she received the news that your father—my son Jivan—was dead.”

  Running away? Could that explain why they’d kept moving? Her mother had never acted scared. She was smart and brave and resourceful. Part of Jillian wanted to look at the picture, but another didn’t dare. She’d suffered enough disappointment in the parental department. Hope was a terrible feeling to squash. After a while, you stopped believing, dreaming, or wishing. She had very few dreams left, and she wasn’t about to let anyone squash them. One of them was spending the next year with Lex. Maybe he’d grow to care for her like she cared for him.

  “Listen, ma’am. Uh, Mrs. Petrosian. Your people have terrorized me and my family, hurt Lex, and destroyed his car. So why don’t you just take the money and stop with the lies.”

  “I’m so sorry for how I handled things,” the woman said, moving closer. “I just learned about you six months ago, and all I’ve thought about since then was finding you. You and I are the last Zakarians, direct descendants of Prince Zakare.” As though she realized that Jillian was still skeptical, her eyes swept the faces in the room before coming back to her. “I apologize to all of you for the way my nephew conducted the search for Jillian. It was barbaric. But without him, I would not have located, uh, Mr. Finnegan.”

  Her eyes returned to Jillian. Lex was tense beside her, but he didn’t speak.

  “He is the one who found online videos of you and your mother’s performances and tracked down the circus here. I will replace Mr. Fitzgerald’s car and compensate him for his injuries and discomfort.”

  “I don’t want your money,” Lex said coldly.

  Anger flashed in the woman’s eyes when she glanced at Lex, and Jillian’s gaze flew to his. He smiled calmly at her. Yeah, Mr. Poker Face wasn’t fooling her. What the hell had happened during that tea? No, she didn’t want to know. Now that she knew he was safe, nothing else mattered.

  Jillian dragged her eyes from Lex to the woman. She didn’t need this. “Listen, it’s over. I don’t care what your reasons were for what you did to my father—”

  “Daniel Finnegan will also be compensated,” Mrs. Petrosian said quickly. “Not just for what we put him through the past month but for raising you, my only granddaughter. I just wanted to meet you. Maybe get to know you and tell you about your people.” The woman’s face crumbled, her haughty bearing disintegrating. Her eyes begged for forgiveness. “Please, listen to what I have to say first. If you still don’t believe me or choose not to forgive me, I’ll leave.”

  Jillian sighed. She glanced at Lex, but his expression was unreadable. She wondered what he was thinking, but she wasn’t the type of girl to run to a man for reassurance. This woman claimed to be her grandmother, sent a group of thugs to harass her father, and scared her niece. She was Jillian’s problem, not Lex’s.

  She eased her hands from Lex’s, took the picture from the woman, and studied it. A handsome young man with a swarthy complexion and dark hair stared back at her, his cocky smile fro
zen for eternity.

  Jillian closed her eyes, but his face stayed etched in her brain. More appeared. This time, they were memories of the man who’d visited her and her mother in New York. Same dark-complexion. Same dark hair. Same smile. She tried to remember the color of his eyes but couldn’t. Not that it mattered. It was the man in the picture, laughing as he read to her. Pushing her on the swing. Opening presents. She gulped, her eyes opening and tearing.

  “Did you remember something?” Lex asked.

  Jillian nodded and glanced toward the door. Her father still stood in the doorway, and from his expression, he knew the truth. He’d known and never once said anything. Why?

  She focused on the old woman. Her grandmother. “You said he died?”

  “He was killed twenty years ago. We never caught the men responsible, but I hope one day we will.” She tilted her head to the side and studied Jillian, her expression sad. “Would you like to hear his story?”

  Jillian swallowed, not sure she wanted to open that door, yet she couldn’t pretend the woman didn’t exist or that she’d actually known her father. Why hadn’t her mother said anything? Jillian never called him Dad.

  “Yes. I’d like to hear his story.” Jillian moved to the couch, and Lex reluctantly followed her. He gripped her hand, his presence anchoring her. She was happy he was here with her.

  Her grandmother… Still hard to wrap her head around that one. Her grandmother invited her father and brothers inside. Lex’s friends were outside the door, curiosity on their faces, but one of them closed it, giving them privacy.

  Her grandmother sat across from Lex and Jillian, and crossed her legs at the ankle. “I’ll start with our story, your grandfather’s and mine. Khosrov Petrosian—that’s your grandfather—and I came to America when we were newlyweds. He wanted to make his fortune and impress my family. You see, Khosrov was a valued employee on our family vineyard, but to my father, he was just a common laborer. It didn’t matter that Khosrov was the first in his family to go to college. My father considered him socially inferior to us because of our royal ancestry.” She smiled as though reliving the past. “He took a great deal of pride in his lineage even though most nobles at that time had changed their names to avoid prosecution.”