Player in a Suit (Cockiest Suits Book 3)

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Player in a Suit (Cockiest Suits Book 3) Page 8

by Alex Wolf


  “You don’t—”

  He cuts me off. “Big day at the office and I told you breakfast is on the bar top.” He stares down at my pussy. “So shower up so I can eat before I go.”

  I squirm just thinking about what he has in mind, and I want to be sexy for him. I feel so relaxed around him now, and my personality doesn’t feel as constrained. “That’s quite an appetite you have.”

  “You have no idea.” He grabs my arms and tugs me up out of the bed then maneuvers me to the bathroom. “I’m fucking starving. Can’t get enough.”

  When I step into the shower the warm spray of water feels like tiny pricks on my sensitive skin. I’m going to have to hit the gym if I’m going to keep up with him in the bedroom. I go through the motions quickly, eager to please him, skipping washing my hair until later.

  I haven’t heard from Leonard at all and I hope it means he’s been served and will give me the divorce without a fight. Nothing has ever been easy with that man, though.

  I slip on my robe and head down, wondering why Jaxson wasn’t waiting to carry me like he said.

  I turn the corner and turn pale as a ghost.

  “Oh my god!” Claire squeals in the kitchen. “Jenna.”

  “Hey.” I give Jax the stink eye for not warning me. What if I’d walked down completely naked?

  He shrugs, mouths the word ‘sorry’, and holds up a bagel at me. “She wanted to bring her big brother breakfast.”

  I can’t help but smile because it reminds me of them when we were younger.

  “I’m going to put on some clothes and give you two a minute.” I’m glad to see that they’re still close, and I head back to the bedroom.

  As I put on what I’ll wear for the day, I hear them arguing and I already know it’s because of me. It was all a show earlier.

  “Don’t you think this is fast? Shouldn’t you let the ink dry on her divorce papers before you move her in?”

  My heart sinks into my stomach. I definitely don’t want to drive them apart or cause problems with their relationship.

  “Claire, I love you. You know that.”

  “Yeah?”

  He shakes his head. “Don’t come in my house and tell me how to live my life. I love her. I don’t need my kid sister telling me how to manage my shit.”

  “Sorry. I really am happy for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. Don’t you remember last time?”

  “Thanks for the concern, but I’m a grown man. She’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

  “Okay. I can respect that.” She takes a step toward the door. “I’m gonna go. Tell Jenna I’m glad she’s back but if she hurts you again I will track her ass down.”

  “Understood.” I see him smirk as he says it while I hide around the corner.

  I wait for the door to close before I join Jaxson in the kitchen. I don’t know if he knows I heard them or not, and I take a bagel and spread some cream cheese across it.

  His eyes flick up to meet mine. “You’re being quiet.”

  I let out a low sigh. “I was thinking that I should start looking for a place soon.”

  The knife he was using clangs on his saucer.

  “What are you talking about? You live here with me.”

  “For now, but we’re moving too fast. I should get my own place and we can date.”

  “You’re not going anywhere. I just got you back. You’re probably carrying my child already.”

  “Claire made a good point. I’m not even divorced yet. How will that look to the judge?”

  “You heard all that?” He glares toward the door like he’s looking for Claire.

  “Yeah.” I nod. “And don’t get all pissed at her. She’s looking out for you.”

  “I know, but she doesn’t need to say shit like that. It’s none of her business.”

  “Just calm down a little.” I take a bite of the bagel.

  “I put your address down as the apartment next door. For the judge. No one will know unless you want them to. I know how to be a lawyer. What’s this all about?”

  “I just hated hearing you two fight because of me. I don’t want to cause you stress with your sister.”

  “She’ll be fine. She likes you. Don’t worry.”

  I know he’s right, but I still have a sinking feeling in my stomach. “You know I love you.”

  “I love you too. What are your plans today?”

  I sigh at him changing the subject, but it’s probably for the best. “Need to get the insurance company on the phone and see where we stand on the claim on the house. Make a few calls about the charity and what I need to do to get it up and running.”

  “Sounds good.” He walks over and kisses me only the way he can. “I’m gonna head to work.”

  I already miss him when he walks out the door.

  I’ve made a few calls, and everything is going much better than expected. The claim for the house is all in order and they’re going through the usual steps before anything gets paid out. I talk to Brooke for a little while on the phone and make a few other calls about the charity.

  I stand there, staring out the window and taking in the Dallas skyline. My life feels like a fairytale coming true. The whole time, though, my stomach churns—just twisted up in knots. I can’t shake the feeling that life is never this easy. Not mine, anyway.

  Every time I think I have the world in my palms, I get crushed. Maybe it’s the years of Leonard’s constant abuse. Beating me down relentlessly, physically and mentally, telling me I’m worthless. Not worthy of dreams or success.

  I wish I wasn’t this way. I wish I could enjoy the amazing path my life has taken, all because I finally got off my ass and did something about it. Jax assures me all the time that I’m brave. That I’m worth something to the world.

  It’s hard to take in, though. Some people just have a way of affecting you that I can’t even explain. It’s like my brain knows Jax is right, but I’m incapable of processing and believing it. I just have to take a deep breath and get through things one day at a time.

  I walk to the counter and pour another cup of coffee. The smell wafts into my nose and gives me a little mid-day boost that’s desperately needed. It’s hard to stay motivated to get things done when you live in a penthouse, surrounded by beautiful things and so many options to be lazy.

  I refuse to be someone like that. I need to be working, doing, going. I need purpose, and this charity will give me that. My phone rings and it’s a number I don’t know. Against my better judgment, I answer it, even though it may be Leonard.

  “Hello?”

  “Mrs. Reyes?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This is Detective Brighton with the Dallas Police Department.”

  My hand instinctively covers my mouth. What can this possibly be about? What did Leonard do or say?

  I start to say something but he cuts me off.

  “A process server was found dead earlier this morning. We believe he was serving your husband with divorce papers. Have you seen Leonard Reyes? Or have you heard from him?”

  “Oh my God.” I stumble back a little and catch myself before I fall over. It’s like a million knives to the stomach. Would Leonard kill someone? He would hit me, but he would never explode. It was always cold and calculated, psychological manipulation. He made every hit count when he would beat me.

  “Mrs. Reyes?”

  “Yeah, sorry. No. Haven’t heard anything since the messages Weston gave the police. That was the last communication.”

  “Okay. If you hear from him, we need to know immediately.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You need to get to a safe place. We’re sending some of our guys your way to watch the building. If you need anything else, please let them know.”

  “I will, thank you.”

  “We’ll be in touch.”

  The second he hangs up the phone, it hits me. I smell it.

  A hand grips the phone in my hand the second my brain processes that it�
��s Leonard’s breath. Cold steel presses against the back of my head, and he slowly spins me around to face the barrel of a gun.

  He smiles wide, and I feel like I might vomit. Nausea, anxiety, everything horrible a person could feel rushes to the surface. Cold sweat breaks out along my forehead, and my throat grows warm and salty.

  He doesn’t look mad. Doesn’t look angry. He’s actually grinning at me the same way he did the night my father sold me to him.

  His eyebrows waggle. “Honey, I’m home.”

  Jaxson

  I’m out the door of the firm the second I get the call from the detective. Yeah, they might be sending people to watch the building, but I don’t give a fuck. Jenna’s mine, and nobody can protect her the way I can.

  That motherfucker.

  I know he killed John. He’s been serving clients for the firm for years. He’s a great guy, family man, has three kids. Dead, because of this piece of shit, worthless prick. Weston chases after me, clearly alerted by my reaction, but I hop in the Lexus before he can get to me and haul ass out of the parking lot in a cloud of smoke.

  The detective said he spoke with Jenna and she was fine. The apartment isn’t far from the firm, but my blood boils with every second that passes. I don’t have a fucking gun in my car. They’re all locked in my safe in my bedroom.

  I just want to get there and hold her in my arms. She has to be so scared right now.

  The tires squeal on the pavement when I slide into my parking spot and I’m through the front door. Our usual security guy isn’t there, which is really odd. I have to punch in my code.

  When I make it through the door, I take a glance over the counter. He’s on the floor with blood dripping from his temple. He wasn’t shot, it just looks like he was pistol whipped.

  Fuck!

  I hop over really quick and check for a pulse. He has one.

  I dial 911 on my way up the stairs. “Get an ambulance here, fast.”

  I rattle off the address, hang up, and stare at the elevator and the stairs. I have no clue which way he would take her. I’d think he’d want to be inconspicuous after just knocking the guy unconscious at the front. There’s a rear exit out of the stairwell. The door only goes one way.

  I just have to pray that he hasn’t gotten Jenna out of the building yet.

  I take the stairs two at a time, practically running, but staring up and listening for echoes. When I get to my floor, I ease the door open slowly. How the hell did he even get through the front door?

  Jenna told me how manipulative he is. Who knows, he may have faked an emergency. Jim had all the information about Leonard—pictures, height, weight. Maybe he wore a disguise? Jim’s not a cop, I guess. I’ll get answers about it all later. Right now, there’s only one word racing through my mind.

  Jenna.

  I peer around and don’t see anything happening.

  I step inside and head toward my apartment. There are two entrances to my place, so I head toward the front to see if I can listen in. The last thing I want to do is get her killed by announcing my presence. I have to stay calm, despite the fact my hands are squeezed into tight fists and my face has to be blood-red.

  Jenna is mine.

  I just got her back.

  I’ll be goddamned if I lose her forever to this psycho.

  When I get to the door there’s no sign of forced entry, but the door is cracked a little. I hear voices in the front room. It hits me.

  If he swiped Jim’s keys he’d have access to the apartment. How could I have been so stupid? I should’ve paid for extra security. I should’ve been more careful.

  If I lose her it’ll be all my fault.

  I push those thoughts deep down inside. They won’t help me right now.

  I have to be calm and in control of the situation. Losing my shit won’t save her. Being smarter than that cocksucker will. It’s hard to tell myself this when every second is another bit of time he has to kill the love of my life.

  I ease through the back door and into the guest bedroom. The voices grow louder. I try to get closer to assess the situation.

  When I get to the kitchen and peer around the corner I can see and hear everything. Jenna sits in a chair in the middle of the room clutching her face while he paces back and forth with a gun in his hand.

  “You think you can play me?” He tilts her chin up to him with the barrel of the gun and laughs right in her face. “You’re nothing, Jenna. You’re shit, and you’ll always be shit. Your own father sold you to me because you’re worthless.”

  “Please, just stop. I’ll do whatever you want. I can get you money. Please.”

  He laughs again and heat rushes to my face. I’m going to kill the fuck out of this guy. He’s going to pay for every ounce of fear he’s put into her. It doesn’t look like he’s going to kill her right now. This is his game. He wants to see her suffer.

  “This is a nice place you have with your rich-ass boyfriend. I didn’t think you’d have the balls to cheat on me.”

  “It wasn’t cheating. We were never together.”

  “Got that right. Your pussy was more worthless than your brain.”

  “What are you going to do, Leonard? You killed a man. You’re holding me hostage.”

  Goddamn, I wish she’d stop talking. She’s going to say something that pisses him off and there’s no telling what he’ll do.

  “Just making you sweat it out. We’ll be leaving soon, and you’ll be getting me my goddamn money. I always have a plan, baby. That’s what smart people do.”

  “I’ll get you whatever you want. Just please, let me go.”

  I have to do something before he makes a move. I crouch down and make my way over behind the island in the kitchen about ten feet away from them.

  I lean my head out to look around the corner of the cabinets right when he smacks her across the face.

  He covers her mouth right when she tries to cry out and the muffled scream lands in his palm.

  Fuck this.

  I get on the balls of my feet, ready to charge after him when my phone goes off loud as fuck.

  Motherfucker!

  Weston’s face pops up on the screen. The ringtone blares through the room.

  “Ohh, the boyfriend is here. Come on out, Mr. Hunter.”

  I stand up.

  He trains the gun right on me.

  I glare back at him. “I’m going to kill you with that.”

  He laughs. “That so?”

  I have to be in control of this shit. Distract him long enough for Jenna to make a run for the door. She’s not tied up. I’ll take a bullet for her. I’ll do anything for her.

  “Goddamn right it is. Right after I take this phone call.”

  He waves the gun around, grinning. I don’t look at Jenna. I don’t want to do anything that’ll make him do something crazy. This has to be unemotional until it’s over. If being in a courtroom has taught me anything, it’s that.

  “You’re a cocky motherfucker. It might be admirable if I wasn’t about to blow your fucking head off.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I’ve heard worse threats on a Tuesday. And they all end up getting fucked in prison. Hope that’s your thing.” I take my phone out and decline Weston’s call. I don’t even look up at Leonard. My heart thumps a million-miles-an-hour in my chest, but I know what I’m doing. Reading people is my job. It’s what made me rich. I just have to trust my instincts.

  The lamps behind him in the living room are connected to my phone. I pull up the app and take a silent breath. The seconds slow down to minutes. I press the button.

  Chaos.

  That’s what follows.

  It all happens so fast, I don’t even know if I’m in control of my body. At the same time everything halts like we’re in slow motion. Nothing but raw, primal evolution takes over. Fight or flight, and I’m not much of a flyer.

  Leonard turns his head when the lights click on behind him. I plant on my back foot and explode off it. His head slowly turns to the lights and
it’s like his brain clicks on and he realizes what’s happening.

  Fuck trying to rationalize with this guy. I don’t negotiate with anyone who wants to kill the woman I care about. It’s them or me, and they’re the one that’s going to die.

  He tries to turn back around, and the barrel of the gun hovers in Jenna’s direction. I dive for him like I’m back in high school playing football. A perfect form tackle.

  My right hand smashes into his forearm and jars it backward. A loud boom sounds through the room and the bullet slams into the drywall.

  I keep my momentum moving through him. I’m bigger, but not by much. My shoulders crash into his stomach and I try to drive him through the fucking wall.

  Jenna screams.

  It echoes through the room. It almost sounds deep like her voice has been slowed down on a record player.

  The gun falls to the floor and I hammer Leonard through the huge television and entertainment center. My whole body flies into him and we both crash. There’s an explosion of glass shards and plastic.

  He wheezes underneath me from where I knocked all the air out of his lungs, and I come up onto my knees, all in one smooth motion. I have his shoulders pinned down and my fists rain down on his face with right and lefts from the sky.

  The bones in his face crunch against my knuckles and I don’t feel anything but adrenaline-fueled rage.

  I can’t stop hitting him, even after he goes limp.

  After ten or fifteen hard punches in a matter of seconds, a pair of hands grip me and yank backward. Small, petite hands that have to be Jenna’s.

  My body naturally reacts, and I whip around with my fists still in the air until I see her face.

  She’s okay.

  She’s safe.

  Blood covers my face, but I know it’s Leonard’s from the onslaught of blows I landed. Blood oozes from his nose and mouth.

  I jump to my feet and wrap Jenna in my arms and hold her close. She cries into my shoulder, the tears soaking my shirt. I cup her head in my hand. I can’t let go of her. Ever.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She cries the words over and over.

 

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