Picking herself up, she didn’t answer. She knew exactly who she was. How could she have missed it all these years? He hadn’t hit his daughter. No. He’d hit a marketable commodity. A winning slogan. That was all, just the bright new face of Reagan Industries, only with a bright red handprint marked it.
Her passive act of aggression was still aggression, and he’d met it head on. Her defiance forced him to repackage her, so to speak. With a snap of his fingers, a top-notch stylist was flown in to transform her shorn hair into the latest high fashion do, fresh from Paris and all the rage. The carefully crafted television commercials were redone. The photo shoot of her at her desk in Reagan Towers, too. The pithy, witty slogans.
In less than forty-eight hours, Reagan Industries was transformed into an upbeat, win-all, take-all, twenty-first century business to watch out for. The only things he couldn’t alter was the lie of how she’d always wanted to follow in his proud footsteps. The lie of how she’d chosen to get Jimmy Malone baptized just to rename him Paul Maximillian Reagan the Third. The lie of how pleased Paul Reagan the Second was to finally have the grandson he’d always wanted. And last, but certainly not the least, the lie of how she was driven to please her father after her near fatal crash at sea.
Yes. All those fucking lies.
She tugged at the stubborn hair still flopping over her brow until frustration exploded through her fingertips. With one final yank, it fell to the floor. I hate you! She clutched another handful. And you!
More oily strands littered the ornate carpet. With one final tug, she let the last handful fall, glaring at her now disheveled reflection. The fire in her eyes. The sneer on her lips. The flush of pure self-hatred on her cheeks. There. That’s better. Let Daddy’s fancy French stylist fix that. She stabbed a pointed fingernail at the mirror. And you’re next, Alex Stewart.
Aggravated with her increasing lack of self-control, Shannon clicked her overpriced six-inch heels on her way down the marble staircase, enjoying the quick, sharp staccato of pure insolence against marble. The world thought that expensive substance was hard as stone? Ha. They hadn’t seen anything yet.
The change to her once kind spirit amazed her. She used to look to the sunshine, but now she inclined more toward shadows. Darkness hid the light of day and all she used to be. A woman can only cry buckets of tears for so long before they turn to shards of ice.
Her father wanted her mean enough to subdue his enemies? She’d show him mean, then cruel and heartless. She’d show everyone who got in her way.
You want it, Father? By hell, you’ve got it.
Right on cue, Hubbard opened the heavy wooden door that kept the real world out and living hell inside. She passed through the ornately carved entrance without a word to the pathetic tool he was. He’d probably report her breach in etiquette back to her father, along with her temper tantrum over her hair.
Well, good. Hurry back to dear old Dad, you lying two-faced dog. Tell him everything I did and everything I didn’t do. While you’re at it, pick up after me. Take out the trash. And go to hell.
As always, Raul stood patiently waiting for her at the open limo door, smiling like he actually cared. He was another she used to trust. No more. Never. Ever. Again. Trust was a commodity for weaklings, and she, Shannon Reagan, the face of Reagan Industries, was anything but.
“Miss Shannon.” He tipped his chauffeur’s cap when he saw her, his eyes lit with the gentle glow she remembered. She dropped her gaze, not answering him as she ducked to enter the rear seat of the limo, directly behind the driver’s seat. This was her spot, one of the few sanctuaries left to her in the world. Raul needed to shut up and drive. That was what he got paid for.
“Dulles Airport again, Miss Shannon?”
He knew damned well where she was going, so she stared out the smoked-glass side window instead of replying. He wanted to chat. She had nothing to say. Let him figure it out.
“It’s a beautiful day to be flying.” He offered another interesting tidbit of nothing.
Let it rain. Let it hail. Let it snow, for all she cared. Today was the end of the world for Alex Stewart.
She sunk her chin to her palm, her elbow on her knee and stared at the depressing, sunny day. The order of the universe was all wrong. The weather ought to reflect the pain and misery of the world. If she ruled the universe, it would. She’d change the forecast to match her moods, her tantrums, and her decrees.
You and you and you shall die. Let it rain.
And you, sir, shall go hungry for a thousand days. Let it pour.
And all liars shall go to hell. Let it burn!
She bit her lip—hard. Her pitiful life was the ultimate game of survival and she would win. Those fools competing for measly millions on reality television had nothing on her. The trick to her power was in using the reputation of her father’s killer instincts. Everyone was already scared to death of him. She only had to glare, stare and be just as rude as Paul Reagan. Hell, it wasn’t even difficult to do anymore. She was his daughter, wasn’t she? Wasn’t that what Reagans did? Didn’t they destroy everything and everyone they touched?
Shannon clenched her stomach at that lie. The only reason she’d changed was that sweet boy locked away in an upstairs prison, doors away from hers. The cruel creature she’d become ate her alive from the inside out. The truth settled in of its own accord. Her father was killing her, and she let him because she didn’t know how to stop him. Paul Reagan was capable of murder—hers.
A single tear eked out of the corner of her kohl-black, mascara-lined eye. She used to be a good person. That was what Adam had seen, the woman he thought he loved. Who had she become? Even the trembling mouth he’d kissed now betrayed her descent into the deepest depths of Hell with its edgy vulgarity. God, she wanted out of the mess she was in, just not bad enough to desert Jimmy.
The miles flew by. Raul ceased small talk. Just as well. He used to be her confidant, but he worked for her father. Who knew whose confidant he really was? She didn’t. Her world had become two-way mirrors and betrayers all around.
I want my baby back!
She stifled the ever-present scream in her heart before it had the chance to burst forth from her lying lips. Today would be the end of Alex Stewart. Tomorrow it would be someone else, and every day forth she would prove how low she could stoop, how evil she could be if only because it was the only way. Jimmy would survive, even if everyone else had to die…
Her hand rose automatically to her mouth, her knuckles to the bite of her teeth as she visited more pain onto the bitter beast she’d become. Reduced to a trapped animal willing to chew its leg off to escape, she allowed another tear. Only there was no escape. Chewing her knuckles would only invite more questions, and worse, it might limit her visitation rights. It might give her father more ammunition. He might think her on the verge of a mental breakdown, which she very well might be. She certainly felt like she stood on the brink of insanity often enough these past three months. But how would she save Jimmy from the padded cell of some expensive asylum?
She clasped her hands in her lap, twisting the bleeding knuckle, smearing the blood into her palm, so no one would see the real Shannon. So no one would know that only her love for the tiniest man in her life kept her from the edge.
Raul’s sad eyes met hers in the rearview mirror. “What do you want?” she snarled. Had he seen? Will he tell? Shit, is he going to cry? He looks like he’s scared of me.
He should be.
“I’m sorry, Miss Shannon,” he said softly, almost timidly. “I need to stop for fuel. The tank is nearly—”
“Do it then.” She knew better. He didn’t care about her. Even if he’d seen that she’d hurt herself, he wouldn’t admit it. Not anymore. As it was, he probably got a monthly bonus for spying on her. He was like all the others—blind, indifferent, and more worried about a steady paycheck. “Make it quick.”
He bobbed his stupid head like a chicken pecking for food. “Thank you, ma’am. I will.”
I wonder what he’d do if I slapped his cap off. Probably nothing. He’d make allowances for me because of my wealth, just like everyone else does. Hell, he’d probably pick his cap up, put it back on, and ask me to do it again.
Raul made a sharp right turn into the nearest gas station. Several other customers were at the pumps, but Shannon’s mind was a thousand miles away, rehearsing the exquisitely detailed lies she’d memorized to make the world believe the negligence of Alex and—Adam.
For a fraction of a heartbeat, the darkness lifted. Her heart stuttered to life. Her blood warmed. Shannon closed her eyes against the ugly task ahead and let his name spill back into her soul. The smell of surf and sea and sweat, his gentle hand cupping her breast, and the red flush of his embarrassment tantalized her senses once more. Ah, that man.
She leaned back into the upholstered leather seat, remembering everything. He’d called her brave. He’d thought her strong. He’d sung to Squeaks, and he’d told her that he loved her. And that storm they’d braved together…
What she wouldn’t give to go back to that beach, to be warm and safe in the circle of his hard arms. To know the power of the universe had met its match, and to believe that, with him, she could withstand any storm. There for a moment, she’d actually believed…
Ha! She bolted upright, her spine stiff, not needing the tender touch of fine leather any more than she needed another man in her life. She snorted her disgust at Adam’s stupid assessment of her, and forced her hardened heart to the evil task at hand. Adam knew nothing. He was nothing.
One of her father’s prickish bodyguards would meet her at the airport. He’d be with her every step of the way for the next five days, and no doubt, he’d stand outside her hotel room during the night, too. These guys were amazing robots. It seemed they lived for her father’s cold-hearted decrees.
Raul had the audacity to open the opposite passenger door, something he didn’t usually do. What now? Was he offering someone a ride? What did he think this was, a cab? Damn him. He’d just waved a stranger into the limo.
How dare he?
Chapter Thirty
“Who the hell are you?” she barked, before the guy had a chance to sit his unwelcome ass on the seat. The wind of autumn blew in with him. She couldn’t see more than his scruffy hair, a glimpse of an unshaven face, and broad shoulders. The nerve of some people. This is the last straw.
“Get out,” she ordered. “Right this minute. Get out of my limo and catch the bus.”
When he turned to face her, the gentlest, darkest blues bathed her in tenderness once more. Her heart jumped high in her throat, blocking breath and the mean words on the tip of her tongue.
Adam?
He pulled the door shut, but he seemed stiff. Unsure. Bright red and green buttons blinked from the handheld device he’d set on the floor between his boots. “I just scanned your limo for bugs. Your father isn’t listening, and we need to talk.”
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Adam. He came for me. He’s here. He’s really here.
Every nerve in her body sung at the sight of him. Love raised its weary head as that gentle melody resonated all the way to her sad, pitiful soul. A thousand broken dreams screeched up from her heart and—
Ahh! The pain of remorse! Her sins assaulted her in Technicolor. She’d screamed at him that day, told him to leave, and made it worse when Hubbard called the police to report a break-in. She’d betrayed and hurt Adam, and yet—
He’s here.
He offered his hand, the glow in his eyes warm and pure with the light she craved. She couldn’t move. Didn’t dare touch him for fear he’d evaporate. The fingers now stretched toward her were strong, his open palm calloused with the hard work of an honest man who worked for another honest man who—
Whose character I’m going to assassinate.
Guilt slithered its icy stranglehold across her shoulders and around her neck, squeezing the hope back out of her. She still had a dirty job to do to that other honest man. To this one, too. Only then could she see Jimmy. Alex had to die. Adam had to leave. And she had to return to Hell.
“I love you,” he whispered softly—and with a stifled cry, Shannon fell.
In one desperate leap, she flung herself across the distance between them and into his arms. Just as she knew he would always do, Adam caught her. A desperate groan ripped free from her heart, while the fears she’d dealt with for weeks burst out of her. “He’s got Jimmy! He’s got my baby! I have to go. I have to kill Alex! You can’t be here! I have to—”
“Shush,” he commanded with love, and instantly, she stilled, listening to him suck in the same great breaths that she was. Loud and steady, his honorable heart throbbed beneath her ear. This man was all about strength, and she needed him desperately now.
“What do you mean, kill Alex?”
“I’m on my way to Texas to ruin him financially and his reputation and… I’m scared,” she whined, all her fears unstoppable with the dam broken. She swallowed hard. “He’s got my baby.”
“I know,” Adam breathed into her hair, stroking her shoulders and down her arm. Gentling her. She shivered under the warmth of his touch, not realizing how cold she’d become. “You’re safe now.”
“No, I’m not. Neither is Jimmy.” Shannon tried to push him away, but he held her tight, and then she felt them. His tears trickled down onto her face. Adam was crying.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you,” she choked. “Oh, Adam. Oh, God, I had no choice.”
“I know that, Shannon.” He brushed a quick hand over his cheek. “You’ve only done what you had to do, but answer me one thing. Where’s Jimmy? Right now?”
“The nursery on the second floor, in the northwest corner of the house. You’ll never get in. That’s where Linda rules. No one can get past her. And guards are everywhere. And Hubbard. And—”
“Shannon. Look at me.” Adam shook her slightly until she lifted her head and met his eyes. The deep blue ocean had never looked truer. She wanted nothing more than to wrap herself in his love and run away with him and Jimmy. “You’re that little boy’s mother and you’re his sole legal custodian, right?”
She nodded.
“Do I have your permission to remove your son from Reagan Manor?”
He wasn’t talking sense. Hadn’t she just told him that getting into Jimmy’s room was impossible? Adam persisted. His index finger tipped her chin up. “Do I?” he asked again.
“Yes.” She bit her already tender lip. Legality hadn’t mattered with her father. Why should it matter to her now?
Adam relaxed his hold and wiped his face with another swipe. Shannon eased back enough to see him better. The tears he’d missed still glistened on his lashes, and the love that this brave man had for her and a boy who wasn’t his flesh and blood touched her heart.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried again, cupping his cheek. The second she touched him, he squeezed his eyes shut, and her heart melted. This kind, gentle bear of a guy was there to rescue her despite her betrayal.
He turned his mouth into a radio at his shoulder and muttered hoarsely, “Northwest corner. Second level.”
“Copy that,” a disembodied, tough chick voice answered.
Shannon’s heart leapt. “Is that Izza?”
He nodded, but cautioned, “Don’t ask anything else, okay?”
“But... my father has Jimmy.” What could he or Izza possibly do to change that?
“Talk to me, Shannon. Tell me what’s going on. Please?”
Hysteria bubbled out of her, blocking her weak hold on self-control. “I have to go. You don’t understand. He’ll hurt my baby, and… No! I just can’t do this. Get out!” She pushed with all her might, but this time Adam held her tighter.
“He’s using Jimmy to control you, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “He’s sick. I have to take over the business, or I’ll never get to see my son again. Let me go! I have a plane to catch!” Her escalating panic pitched her into a ful
l-blown need for Adam to Get. Out!
She raised her hand to strike, but he caught it in midair. “No!” he roared. “No more!”
And she stopped struggling.
Adam pressed that mean hand to his lips, blinking at the sight of her bleeding knuckles. Tenderly, he kissed each self-inflicted wound, pouring love back into her with the soft caress of his lips. He didn’t take his eyes off her. She couldn’t take hers off of him. His next words pierced straight to her motherly soul. “No more running, Shannon. Today, we fight. Today, you stand up to your father, and you never look back. You hear me?”
“You don’t know him. He’ll hurt Jimmy. I have to—”
“No, Shannon. There is no choice. He’ll hurt you and Jimmy if you stay. Today, you take your son back, and you leave home. With me.”
She shivered as those strong words filled her soul. “Say it again,” she whispered, daring to believe.
Adam bowed his forehead to hers. “Come with me. I love you, and I love that little boy of yours. You’re the best HALO jump I’ve ever fallen into. Please let me help you. Let’s go get your son. What do you say?”
“I want to.” She nodded, swallowing hard as bravery glimmered for the first time in months. The words were no more out of her mouth than fear clutched her heart and the roller coaster ride of terror began again. Bile rose in the back of her throat. She changed her mind. “No. I can’t. I’m scared. It’s too dangerous. I have to go. Goddamn you! Let me go!”
This time, he didn’t yell to get her attention. Instead, Adam traced his index finger around her ear, pushing her ugly short hair back. “It’s okay to be scared,” he crooned. “I’m scared too, but mostly I’m mad. Aren’t you mad?”
What a stupid question! Why the hell did he think she was screaming?
“At your father, Shannon,” Adam clarified. “Aren’t you angry at him?”
Oh, God, yes. She nodded, still fighting the urge to run to do Paul Regan’s bidding. “He’s got a woman named Linda Perkins guarding Jimmy, and she’s mean, and his men are everywhere and they’re—”
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