by TL Alexander
“Like hell, you can’t leave me hanging.”
I laugh. “I’ll finish, if you think you can handle it.”
“Go on.”
“Every escape needs a good plan. First, we needed to get ahold of our passports. And lucky for me, this turned out to be easy. Gram took Sam and me to Spain over Christmas holiday but failed to collect the passports before we went back to school. With passports in hand we could travel. But, every underage traveler needs money; money for travel and money to buy adult help. That is where Margie became involved. She hacked into several of Grams accounts and transferred nearly fifty thousand pounds. I took five thousand pounds and paid a janitor at the school to take Sam and me to the airport. Once at the airport, I paid him an additional two thousand pounds to purchase our tickets and claim to be our uncle sending us to visit our grandmother.”
“Oh my hell.”
“We flew to LA. From there the plan was to take trains and buses using different aliases until we made our way to New York. We got to Texas, which I thought for a twelve-year old was pretty damn good. Gram was waiting for us at a bus station just outside of Dallas. Margie gave us up when they threatened to take her computer away.”
“God, Lex. Do you have any idea of how much danger you’d put yourself and Sam in?”
“That’s all you can say? I was hoping for, ‘I’m impressed’ or ‘you go, girlfriend.’“
“Not going to happen.”
I sigh.
“So what did Lizbet do?”
“The only thing she knew that would keep me in Scotland—she separated us. She sent Sam to a school near Inverness and sent me to a girl’s correctional school near London.”
“Correctional School? What is that exactly?”
“A school where rich girls are sent away to be taught a lesson or because no one has a clue what do with them. Most girls at the school were like me—misfits, different, bored, geeks. But some had criminal records—the real shit.”
“I can’t believe Lizbet sent you to a place like that.”
“I don’t think she intended to have me stay for more than a couple of months, but my parents and brother were killed and she...lost it. She stopped visiting me. She stopped bringing Sam to see me and wouldn’t allow me to come home on holidays.”
“How long were you there?”
“It depends on how you calculate it, either, 22.660110755 months, 95.59238095 weeks, 669.16666667 days, or 16060 hours.”
“God, Lex, I’m sorry, I can’t believe Lizbet would let you stay that long.”
“Like I said—she lost it for a while. I hated her, and my parents and even myself at that point. Stewart got me out of there.”
“Stewart?”
“Yes, he somehow got Gram to sign over temporary custody to her best friend, Katherine Black. After that I went and lived with her and Zane.”
“So that’s how you ended up with him?”
“Yeah, he was my best friend until I went to Oxford, and he went a’ whoring. And the rest is history as they say.”
“You lived a lifetime before you were even an adult.”
“And now you’re going to say ‘no wonder you’re so fucked up.’“
“I was going to say that I admire you.”
“Why?”
“Because despite all that you’ve gone through...you are the most beautiful, most generous, most loving, and most alive woman I know.”
“Oh hell, now I’m going to cry.”
“I love you more than my next breath, Alisa Alexia Lizbet Marie Grant.”
“I love you so much it’s hard to breathe, Jaxson Chase Ryan.”
Curve Ball
Alexia
“So, what did you find out?”
“Some very interest things, boss.”
“Do tell.”
“I can positively say that the Colettis were responsible for trashing your loft. I got real lucky with this one. My contact at the NYC police told me that some guy that worked odd jobs for the Colettis was arrested on drug charges a few months ago. He knew he was probably going to prison for a long time, so he made a deal with the DA and gave up all he knew about the family and what jobs he had done. He mentioned several B and E’s and one job in Soho—a loft that he and two other guys were told to trash but not to steal anything. He thought it was strange because they were even told to spray-paint specific expletives. Apparently the guy and his friends were higher than kites and the only other thing that he remembered was a strange painting of a man with multiple penises. He said it freaked him out but he didn’t know if it was truly a man with several penises or his drugged perspective of it. There was a picture of a painting in the insurance claim file that you gave me that fits that description.”
“Marco gave me that painting. High or not, the guy was right—it was freaky.”
“We know the Colettis were behind it but, we don’t know if the orders came from Carlo or Frankie. The guy was never given that information, nor did he ever work directly with either of them.”
“Did he know anything about the pictures or e-mails?”
“No, the guy didn’t do anything like that. They would have used someone else for that kind of work. And, unfortunately, we can’t use any of this information or press charges because it’s a part of an ongoing investigation.”
“What else did you find out?”
“I can’t confirm or deny that Mia and Martinson are having an affair or some other kind of inappropriate relationship. I can tell you that they meet about once a week at the Waldorf, same room, and their meetings last anywhere between thirty minutes to two hours.
“Interesting. What about Martinson’s medical records?”
“You asked me to check on any hereditary heart condition and I found out that he had both a brother and a sister pass away from a heart condition called Long QT syndrome or LQTS.”
“I don’t know how much you found out about this LQTS, but could Martinson pass it on even though it’s not affecting him?”
“Yes.”
“Very interesting.”
“Are you going to tell me why this information is ‘very’ interesting?”
“Sure. When Mia and Jaxson were married the first time, they had a baby that was born with, and later died from, a hereditary heart condition. Mia wanted to get pregnant again but Jaxson refused until he found out if he was a carrier of the condition. He had testing done and found out he wasn’t a carrier or the father.”
“Wow.”
“So you think that Martinson was the father of her baby?”
“I had a gut feeling that he was, but now I’m sure of it. I just need to find out if the baby had the same heart condition. But you and I aren’t big on coincidences.”
“Okay, let’s say the baby was Martinson’s. Jaxson already knows it wasn’t his, so where are you going with this?”
“Well, when Jaxson told Stephens that Mia’s baby wasn’t his. Stephens told him that he would end their contract that they had and clear all of his debt if he promised not to tell anyone that the baby wasn’t his.”
“So he must have known it was Martinson’s.”
“Yes, I believe he did. Mia also ended her blackmailing of the former Ryan partners when Jaxson threatened to go public about her pregnancy.”
“So what are you thinking?”
“We know that Carlo Coletti and Martinson have some issues. We don’t know what they are, but Martinson is married to his sister. So, they’re family and I’m guessing that’s why Carlo puts up with him. But...if Carlo were to find out that Martinson is having a thing with his goddaughter...”
“It wouldn’t be good for Martinson.”
“No, it wouldn’t.”
“This gets more complicated by the minute.”
“This is what we know and don’t know. We know that Jaxson Sr. was killed because he knew something he shouldn’t have or got involved with something he shouldn’t have. We know that Frankie Coletti, Martinson, and Stephens were involved w
ith Will Harris and the outside audits. What we don’t know is how they were involved. Were they in on it from the beginning, or did they find out later and want in on the action? We also don’t know Carlo’s involvement. If I were to guess, I’d say that Carlo wasn’t involved with Harris and the others. He might have known about it, but he’s trying to distance himself from Frankie.”
“I agree.”
“There is so much that we don’t know. And I’m guessing that our FBI friends aren’t going to share since Gram got involved and ended their arrangement with Jaxson.”
“Has she said anything to you about all this?”
“Not much.”
“I wonder how much she knows.”
“I’d say more than we do.”
“I just had a thought. Do you think that Martinson could be the father of Mia’s baby this go-around?”
“Not unless Mia was able to get a hold of the DNA samples and mess with them somehow.”
“So, it’s a possibility?”
“Lee, when it comes to Mia, anything and everything is possible.”
* * *
After Lee leaves, I sit at my desk and think about what he said about the DNA test. Jaxson is convinced that Mia’s baby is his. Despite everything that Mia’s done, he has been there for his daughter. He’s never missed a doctor appointment, has showed up at the hospital every time Mia claimed to cramp, spot, faint, or go into premature labor.
You’d think that I’d be happy for him and admire him for putting his feelings aside and taking care of his kid, but you’d be wrong—I’m not. Yeah, I’m one selfish pregnant-assed bitch. But I can’t help it. It is what it is. Every time he’s with her, he’s away from me and away from our sons. Mia’s a game player, a user and abuser and she deserves no part of my man.
But damn her, she’ll always have a part of him and I guess that’s what it boils down to. She will always be a part of our lives because they have a child. Now don’t go getting all bent, I know it’s not the kid’s fault and I care about her welfare and wellbeing. I just don’t want Mia to be in my life, my kids’ lives, my family and friends’ lives...I don’t want the kid to be his. There, I said it and I’ll say it again. I, Alexia Grant, don’t want Mia’s baby to be my man’s baby. Now I’m officially a bad person, and will go to hell. Okay, I’ll be living there off and on, paying my dues for all the crazy-assed, selfish things I’ve done.
There is a knock on my office door.
“Come in,” I say.
Jaxson opens the door and with his first step into my office, he takes my breath away, as always. How can one man look so fine? I mean seriously, girlfriend—just look at him. Every friggin’ time I see him I either want to lift my skirt and bend over my desk or kneel down in front of him and open my mouth. Jesus Christ, woman—got pregnant hormones? It’s not like I haven’t gotten any. I thought that when we started to live together and see each other almost every day and sleep in the same bed almost every night; things would begin to cool down. But just the opposite has happened. I’ve been getting it a lot, but it never seems to be enough. The more we do it, the more I want it.
“Hey, babe,” he says as he walks over and plants his fine ass on a sofa that sits across from my desk.
I will never be able to look at that sofa again without thinking about...us.
It all started on Monday. Jaxson came into my office and I all but tackled him (okay, I did tackle him like a linebacker) and pushed him onto the sofa. Once I had him down, I didn’t even take the time to pull his pants down. I just unzipped, pulled out, lifted, moved aside, straddled, sunk, moaned, rocked, came. After I used him like a five-dollar manwhore he pulled me up and off, turned me, bent me over the back of the sofa, moved my panties aside and took me like a pregnant whore. I came; he came, pulled out, zipped up, and then walked out without saying a word.
On Tuesday I walked into his office while he was on a conference call. I turned his chair, kneeled, unbuckled, unzipped, pulled out, put in, licked, sucked, he moaned, he came, I swallowed, he smiled, I smiled, tucked, zipped, buckled, stood, smoothed down my skirt, then walked out without saying a word.
On Wednesday I joined him, Gram, and three other associates for lunch at Polo. I sat across from him and couldn’t take my eyes off him and his perfect mouth. I watched him as he talked, smiled, ate, laughed, and sipped his wine. He turned and smiled at me and I all but came. Okay, I did come. My panties were so wet I worried they would stick to my skirt and form a wet spot. He turned his attention and his perfectness away and thank fuck, because if he had continued to look at me, I would have done something that would have had the entire restaurant panting.
I sat back into the padded bench and crossed, uncrossed, then re-crossed my legs several times. I decided it was best just to keep them crossed. I looked around the table and realized that I had zero recall of any of the conversation. I don’t even think I’d said more than a couple of two- syllable words. Marco walked over and drew my attention away from the others.
“Are you okay?” he asked me.
“Fine.”
He frowns. “You haven’t even touched your meal.”
I look down at my plate. Fuck. I hadn’t even taken one bite. “I had a huge breakfast,” I lied.
Jaxson frowns. He knew I’d grabbed an apple and a bagel and ran out the door.
Everyone at the table was now frowning at me like the goddamn food police or my friggin’ OBGYN.
I looked at Marco. “Can I use your private restroom?”
“Sure,” he says.
I stand.
“Can I box this up for you?” he asked while nodding at my plate.
“Sure,” I told him as I headed to the restroom.
Once inside, I locked the door then leaned back into it and just started to laugh hysterically until I almost peed my already-soaked panties. After I got over my hysteria, I peed, peeled off my super wet panties, put them in my bag, and washed up. As I was about to unlock the door, I heard a knock.
Thinking it was Marco I said. “I’m fine, Marco.”
When I opened the door, it wasn’t Marco.
Jaxson pushed me back into the restroom and relocked the door. He gifted me with a knowing horny grin and backed me into the counter and lifted me up. He growled when he saw that I wasn’t wearing any panties. Then he unbuckled, unzipped, pulled out, and slid on in. We both moaned when he was fully seated. We groaned when he rocked into me fast and hard. We came together. Then he pulled out, tucked himself back in, zipped up and walked out.
Today is Thursday, and I desperately want to continue with our little game but he’s been in a divorce mediation meeting all morning and he isn’t wearing his sex-game face.
I was surprised when Jaxson asked Jules to be his attorney. After all, he still thinks and calls her a crazy-ass pervert. But when he started inquiring about the best divorce attorneys, Jules’ name kept coming up. So he hired her, and he couldn’t be happier about the way she’s handled Mia and her attorney. And I couldn’t be happier, because now, with Jaxson’s okay of course, I get the straight lowdown on everything that’s going on at these meetings.
It’s well into the New Year and I’m in my sixth month of pregnancy and Mia is nearing the end of her ninth. Jaxson is into his second month of all that is divorce. He has given Mia everything she has asked for, and the only thing that he’s fighting for is visitation. He wants to have his daughter one night a week and every other weekend. Mia is insisting that he will have no overnight privileges and that she is to personally supervise all visits. I think the whole thing is bizarre considering that the baby hasn’t even been born. I wanted Jaxson to forego any visitation and custody issues until after her birth, but he wants everything worked out before she comes.
I just want the whole damn thing over. I told Jaxson my casa, his casa. But I didn’t say my casa, Mia’s casa. They’re bringing me, or I should say, my money, into it and so this is what I believe Jaxson has come to talk to me about. Well, okay, I know
this is what he’s come to talk to me about, because what follows is the text that I received earlier today from Jules.
Jules: This woman continues to surprise me. Just when I think she can’t get any lower than pond scum, she does.
Lex: Do tell.
Jules: When we got back from lunch she planted her fat ass next to Jax before I got a chance to separate them. Every few minutes she stops and cries. “Oh my God, Jaxson, the baby just kicked. You have to feel this”.
Lex: What did he do?
Jules: He tried to ignore her until she started to cry saying that you had turned him into an uncaring SOB.
Lex: What did he say?
Jules: Exactly what I told him to. He told her that this divorce is between them and it has nothing to do with you.
Lex: He makes me so proud. If only it were true. If she’s in his life, she is in mine.
Jules: Now the tinker bitch is saying that she will grant him visitation if you and the boys have no contact with her precious baby.
Lex: What’s beneath the layer of scum that’s beneath pond scum?
A few minutes pass.
Jules: Sorry, Jaxson was about to strangle her. I asked Mr. Meyers to please ask his client to sit next to him. She wouldn’t budge, so Jaxson and I got up and moved to the other side of the table and Mr. Meyers got up and is now sitting next to his client. She is once again crying and saying if Jaxson doesn’t agree to her terms, he will not see his daughter. Mr. Meyers is now telling her what a stupid cow she is. While we are waiting for her to get a grip, the answer to your question is... Mia Ryan.
Lex: Ha ha!
Ten minutes pass.
Jules. Mia is out of control. She is making all kinds of threats against you. Mr. Meyers is telling her that Ms. Grant is not her concern. He’s asked that the threats be stricken from the record, and I told him only if he gets a court order will her threats be removed. He just asked for a recess and OMG your man just grew a fresh set of balls—give me a minute.
Lex: Sure thing.
Jules: Don’t tell Jax, but I’m starting to like him. He’s more than just a hot body—who knew? He just told me to end all negotiations. He said he would not agree to her terms, and to withdraw all agreed upon financial support. Mr. Meyers is trying to change his mind and calm down Mia. Not going to happen. Now she is calling me names. She’s not very creative, is she? I just told Jaxson that I felt it was best that we settle things after the baby is born. He finally agreed and now Mia is jumping up and down in a rage and it’s a horrid sight. Her huge tits are slapping up against her huge pregnant belly. I’ll be sure to take a video, by accident of course.