Like a Fox

by Sevilla, J. M.

  “Is she one of your girls?” I sneer under my breath at him. I hate playing the jealous girlfriend, but she was the right kind of exotic beauty to make anyone feel insecure.

  “No,” his mouth twitches, trying not to show his humor over my attitude. “We’re just old acquaintances.”

  I wish I wasn’t so envious. If she had been ugly it wouldn’t be an issue. Why can’t everyone just be ugly? The world would be so much more peaceful.

  “That’s it?” I ask for reassurance that someone like that isn’t competition.

  “Honesty?”

  “Of course,” I lie.

  “I fucked her once.”

  I curl my lip, “I’m going to kill her.”

  Vic is definitely amused as he tries to hide a grin with his hand, rubbing his jaw. “Let’s not be so dramatic. If I can keep my hands off Keith and Ray, you can play nice too.”

  Fair enough; not like I would have anyway. Vic just has a way of bringing the animal side out of me.

  Vault passes Vic the folder, “Any information you need is in here. You need backup, you call.” He leans back into his seat, “Now, what’s your plan?”

  Vic sits there rubbing his jaw, lost in thought. Vault swirls his drink in his hand, watching the amber liquid and seeming used to Vic taking his time, not at all annoyed by it.

  After what feels like eternity (I’m not even trying to exaggerate), Vic straightens, removing his hand from his jaw and placing it on his bent knee. “I’ll need some Memphis84.”

  Vault looks up to the ceiling for a few seconds before answering, “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “What’s that?” I intrude.

  I appreciate that Vic doesn’t seemed annoyed that I’m interfering and responds to me professionally, like I’m part of this. “Link’s father designed a drug that is odorless, tasteless, and gives you approximately twenty-five minutes before sudden death.”

  “That sounds like the plot of a bad action movie,” I can’t help but point out. It sounds made up.

  Vault grins, an irresistible dimple popping through.

  Vic continues as though I hadn’t spoken, “What’s unique about this one and sets it apart from others is that it will appear as an overdose. That’s how we’ll get him. It’s a known fact with those close to our mark that he enjoys recreational narcotics. We will find a way to slip it into his drink and be gone without any suspicion.”

  Vault speaks around his glass, “Very good.”

  Vic opens the file, ruffling through the papers, “You’re going to have to get it from him.”

  Vault laughs and even that’s sexy, “Probably for the best; you’re not exactly his favorite person at the moment.” He stands and goes back to his desk, pressing a button on his phone, “Tell Lincoln I need him.”

  A few seconds later his intercom responds, “He says he’s busy.”

  “Of course he did,” Vault grumbles before pushing the button again. “Tell him he has two minutes.”

  Ten minutes later that scary Link guy returns, taking up the doorway with his broad shoulders.

  “What?” His gruff voice demands.

  I’m surprised Vault allows him to talk like that to him.

  Vault smiles like he’s used to this behavior, “I need some Memphis84.”

  Link eyes him, then the couch Vic and I are on. “Is it for him?”

  “It will help us both out,” Vault discloses.

  Link shakes his head, “Nope,” then turns around to leave.

  I look to Vault, expecting him to stop him. He doesn’t.

  “I need to have it,” Vic reiterates sternly to Vault.

  Vault gives a look like he did his best, “What do you want me to do? You know how hotheaded the Lincolns can be.”

  Vic curses and pulls out his phone while he stands, “I need to make a private call.” He retreats back into the same room he talked to my father in.

  I can’t just sit here and not do anything. I stand up and march out of the room.

  Luck is on my side because Link is just opening the door to the short hallway.

  “Wait!” I shout like he’s a lot further than he is.

  He turns at whatever outburst came from behind. When he sees it’s only me he scowls and turns back to leave.

  I hurry to catch up, “Wait, please.”

  He ignores me, his steps much larger than my own as I follow him out and all the way to the stupid-ass gold elevator.

  Link arrives there faster than I do, but thankfully he has to wait for it to open.

  “I need that drug, or whatever it is,” I plead.

  “Not going to happen,” his gruff voice rejects.

  “Why not?”

  “You’re with him,” he informs the elevator.

  I won’t lie to him but I’m not stupid enough to agree, “That’s not why I’m here. I came to save my father.”

  The gold elevator pings and Link steps in, “That’s not my problem.”

  Does anybody around here care about something besides themselves?

  The doors begin to slide and I step in just before they close.

  Link towers over me, his aggravation heating the small compartment as his glare penetrates through me, making me almost shit my pants. The only thing stopping me is the two guards behind us. Surely they won’t let him hurt me?

  A guard motions to the panel, “We can’t leave until you enter your hand and code.”

  I defiantly cross my arms, “I guess we’re not leaving then.” I look to Link, ready to desperately plea. “I’m not like you.” I nod at the door, indicating the office we just left, “I’m not like them. I’m just a girl who fell in love with the wrong guy.” I’m using what little information I’ve gathered about Link to hopefully win him over. I’ve never been manipulative before. It doesn’t sit quite right with me; however, I don’t feel guilty. My family is everything to me. My next words are filled with truths and lies, “Because of that love my father is in danger, and I’m not stopping until he’s safe.”

  “Like I said,” Link glowers, “that’s not my concern. Now get out, or I’ll force you to.”

  Fuck. That did not go how I’d hoped.

  As I leave, I try not to come across as scornful as I feel, “I guess you don’t know what it feels like to be helpless to save somebody you love. Good for you.”

  The elevator door closes behind me and I hang my head down in defeat. I don’t see Vic and smack right into him halfway down the hall. Instead of apologizing I slouch into him, completely crushed, “He wouldn’t give it to me.”

  Vic holds me, soothingly murmuring into my ear, “Don’t worry about it, there are other ways.”

  I laugh at how clueless I am to all of this, “I didn’t even know the first way.”

  Vic explains like I’m not incompetent and in way over my head, “It was the easiest of our options, and the one that would be least likely to get us killed.”

  Damn. That sounds like a good option.

  “Don’t worry, Freya,” Vic’s voice is promise-filled. “You will come out of this alive.”

  I pull back, “What about you?”

  “You’re my only concern.”

  I don’t like him talking like that; it puts pressure on my chest, the kind that will never go away if anything happens to him.

  He leads us back to Vault’s office. BB King plays throughout the room. I take comfort in his familiar voice and I let it soothe my nerves. I also hate that Vault listens to him. I don’t want to have anything in common with this man.

  Vault meets us at the door and I quit biting my tongue, tired of holding it in, “I don’t like that you would just send some girl you’ve never met to do your dirty work.”

  “You gave me no other choice.”

  No, I guess I didn’t. “And if I pull this off, can you promise me my father remains safe?”

  Vault looks me square in the eyes, “You have my word that you and your family will be left alone.”

  The only reason I’m tru
sting his words is that I trust Vic would never work for a man whose word was made of lies.

  “You can take my jet,” Vault offers.

  Of course he has a jet.

  “No thank you.” I don’t want anything from this man.

  I grab the file he has in his hands and yank. Vault has a strong grip on it as he forces me to listen to him, “Miss Brennan, if you pull this off you’ll be saving thousands of lives. I want you to know that. I’m not after your father for the fun of it, and I don’t make it a habit of destroying families, but for this man I will. He needs to be stopped.”

  As Vault lets go of the folder, Link comes in. He leans down and whispers into Vault’s ear as he passes something off into his hand.

  Link leaves, but not before giving Vic a murderous glare that in return Vic bows his head and delivers a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

  Link grumbles something I can’t understand; only a few swear words register.

  Vault holds out what it was Link left behind: a small tube, no bigger than my pinkie, filled with an off-white, almost almond-colored powder. “This won’t get through security. You sure you don’t want my jet?”

  Vic takes it, shaking his head, “I know what to do.”

  I’m hopeful as I ask, “Is that the stuff?”

  Vic and Vault answer together, “Yes.”

  I can’t help but beam. I don’t know Vic’s plan, but the fact that one part of it has been accomplished brings me hope, even if it’s minuscule. I’ll take what ever I can hold on to right now.

  “Your girlfriend’s good,” Vault praises and I almost let his compliment affect me, then I remember he’s why I’m here in the first place.

  “I know,” Vic nonchalantly agrees, holding the small tube up to the light.

  “She need a job?”

  “I have one,” I affirm.

  Vic stashes the tube in his pocket and states, “She has one.”

  Vault tries to conceal a smirk, “Well, if she–”

  “I won’t,” I say at the same time Vic responds with a “She won’t.”

  I can’t help but smile over at him. He winks at me in return. For a moment I allow fairies to dance in my veins and marvel in how perfect we are together. Too bad perfection isn’t real.

  “You’ll hear from me when it’s over,” Vic says in farewell.

  On the way to the airport I decide to dig for more information, “How do you know Vault?”

  Vic openly replies, “Through my sister.”

  I lift my brows, hoping he’ll take the hint and further expand on the subject.

  Vic sighs, “They had a brief affair some odd years ago. Due to the nature of her profession, they remained close.”

  “What’s her profession?”

  “That’s not something I can share with you.”

  I’m not surprised. I change back to the subject of Vault, “And you like this Vault guy enough to work for him?”

  “Yes. He’s a ruthless business man, but he’s trustworthy; a rare trait in one’s character.”

  “Is it necessary to work for him?”

  “I want a life with you Freya, and in order for that to happen I need stability. Before you, I was constantly traveling and occasionally working for men that would give me false information, putting my life in danger. Working for Ben insures that my time is considerably cleared up and that you are kept safe.”

  “What about what I want? I’m not even sure I can be in a relationship with you anymore, not after this strong of a deceit.”

  “I never deceived you,” Vic interjects with his stern, demanding voice. “Like I’ve said: my work is private. I don’t mix work with pleasure; it never ends well. But every rule has its exceptions.”

  “And look how well that turned out,” I grumble under my breath, turning my head to watch San Francisco pass me by.

  “You’ll get past this.”

  I look back over at him, “How can you be so confident?”

  Vic’s brown eyes soften, letting me into his soul, giving me goosebumps without him even touching me. “I’ve seen and experienced a lot in my life. What we have rarely exists. You don’t let something like this go.”

  Why does he have to say things like that to me? I just want to be mad at him, but he’s making it really hard. I need some space, time to clear my head, and sort through the mixed emotions running around.

  I don’t speak again until I’m at the ticket booth of the airport, “I need the soonest available plane to New York City.”

  “Two,” Vic steps next to me, holding out his identification and credit card, and placing them on the counter. “Business Class.”

  “I can’t afford Business Class,” I sneer under my breath, “and we’re not sitting together.”

  He pushes the credit card closer to the attendant, ignoring my request. I start to protest but snap my lips shut instead. He’s been tailing my father and keeping it a secret from me. He can pay for my fucking ticket.

  “Can you make them separate?” I ask as the attendant begins typing away at her computer.

  “No.” Vic is firm in his tone, causing her to glance up. He turns his head to me, lowering his voice, “Either way, I will find a way to sit next to you.”

  I give the woman my attention. “Separate,” I confirm. Vic can work for it.

  Unfortunately, she informs us that the next flight isn’t for another six hours; however, we are in luck because there happens to be three seats left, two of which are Business Class.

  “We can stay at Cole’s?” Vic suggests after we step aside with our tickets.

  I shake my head, “No, I want nothing to do with that man.”

  Vic slides the ticket into the inside pocket of his jacket, “He’s not as bad as you think.”

  “I don’t care. How would you feel in my shoes?”

  “I’ve been in your shoes, and I was happy to see my father burn.”

  Wow, that is an incredibly depressing statement and I have no rebuttal.

  Vic tries another route, “We’ll go to a hotel.”

  No way, I know what will happen if we’re left alone together. “We’ll stay here, get a book to read while we wait.”

  “You need to rest.”

  “What I need is for this whole thing to be over and for my father to be safe.”

  “Fair enough.” Vic places a firm hand on my lower back, “Let’s go get you that book.”

  Chapter 21

  Vic squats in the middle of the plane’s narrow isle, drawing up his grey slacks at the thigh as he bends. He speaks low and only for the man sitting next to me to hear, extending a hand toward the man’s as he talks. The man nods, pulling back his hand as they both stand and tucks it briefly into his pocket, depositing what ever Vic had handed to him there.

  Vic slides into the seat, not acknowledging me as he buckles in and the other man takes Vic’s seat two rows back.

  I roll my eyes, “You think you’re so clever.”

  “No, but I do know money will buy you whatever you want.”

  “Not everything.”

  “I suppose.”

  “You can’t buy me,” I have to point out.

  The flight attendants explain safety precautions and emergency exits. When they are done, Vic finds a magazine to read, leafing through it, “I guess I should rephrase: money and sex can get you whatever you want.”

  A make “pft” noise, finding that incredibly insulting.

  “You doubt me?” He smirks to the magazine.

  I give a curt nod, “One-hundred percent.”

  He shrugs, still ruffling through the pages, not a care in the world.

  For the next hour I continually have to readjust, unable to get comfortable, my body sensing Vic’s close to mine and wanting to feel skin against skin. I internally scold my body for being such a nymphomaniac, refusing to accept that it’s only Vic causing it to be this way.

  An attendant offers us a beverage and I decline, even though a part of me wouldn’t mind some h
ard liquor to calm me down.

  I fall into a restless sleep that doesn’t benefit me in the slightest, so I try to watch a movie but can’t focus. When the attendant brings our meal I can’t eat. The day so far and knowing what’s still to come is weighing too heavily on me. Adding food to that will only make me even more uncomfortable.

  “Eat,” Vic demands, waving a fork at my plate.

  “I can’t.” I honestly wish I could. Business Class food is nothing like what I’ve had in economy. It smells heavenly and like an actual meal your body can digest.

  He frowns, “Try.”

  I stare at the food for a full five minutes, hands poised over it with utensils. I know I need to eat, but it’s too much work at the moment.

  “Here,” Vic moves his hands between mine, nudging them out of the way as he cuts my salmon into small, bite-sized pieces. He feeds them to me one by one, sending flutters to my stomach every time my lips touch his fork and he watches them take the meat. I successfully finish a third of my plate before refusing any more.

  “Thank you,” he delivers the words so soft and genuine that the flutters turn into winged keys, sharp and pronounced as they move around.

  After our plates are cleared I go to the restroom, more because I want to stretch my legs and I need breathing room from Vic’s enigmatic presence.

  As I start to slide the door closed it’s met with resistance. Vic nudges through, locking it behind him.

  Anybody who has been in an airplane restroom knows that it uncomfortably holds one person, so two is more than a tight fit. Combine that with all that is Vic, and his intensity has it feeling like I’m trapped in an oven.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, mortified for anybody to know we’re in here. I know what they’ll think because it’s exactly what I would believe is happening when two people share a bathroom.

  Vic effortlessly twists us so we’re sandwiched together, his back to the wall, my butt digging into the sink, both of our legs dangerously close to the toilet. He lifts my hips while we are wordlessly staring at the other, only blinking when forced to. He hoists my legs up and slides off my pants with an effort that should be awkward, but it’s no match for the way we’ve started kissing, like we were teenagers sucking face. My hands go on either side of me for support, as I’m half over the edge of the tiny counter. My bent legs are moved enough so my feet can bare my weight on the wall behind Vic.