by Nicole Fox
“Guess you're going to have to pray for good luck,” he growled softly, then pulled her in and gave her a cruel kiss.
She grunted, but kept herself steady, feeling that familiar warmth within her growing between her legs. He was such a terrifying bastard, but there was still something about him that really got her engine going. Her legs even began to wobble as he reached down, grabbed her ass hard, and pulled her into him.
He pulled away, breaking the kiss. Her lips still stung with his heat. “Two hours,” he reminded her.
She nodded, her knees still weak. “Two hours,” she whispered back, as he released her from his hold.
Chapter Sixteen
Emily
She stormed into Edward Barker's office and slammed the door behind her.
She was livid. Not only had this man betrayed the trust of thousands of first responders by forcing a drug on them that didn't work, but his actions had also gotten her and Jas wrapped up in the middle of this whole thing with Dane. Responsibility rested squarely on Edward's shoulders, and she knew it.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Edward said, getting up from his desk, hands out in front of him, a stark look of surprise on his face. “Don't shoot, Emily, I come in peace.”
“Shut the fuck up, Edward,” she snarled, as she planted her fists on his desk and glared right at him.
“Hey,” Edward said, taking a step back as he made a disgusted face, “I don't need to take that shit from you.”
“You don't need to take that from me, huh?” she spat. “You, the lying bastard who got Hymalete through approval, when you knew it was a faulty drug?”
Edward's face went carefully neutral, and he simply shrugged, then gave a little grin as he sat back down in his chair, like none of this was anything major. “What of it? Of course, I got it through approval. That's part of what we do. We sell drugs, and we make money. This is America, Emily.”
“But our drugs didn't work,” she hissed. “There are people who took it, hoping to end their suffering, and it wasn't any better than a goddamn sugar pill.”
“But they made us a lot of money,” he retorted.
“I should have you fired for this,” she growled, channeling a little bit of Dane.
Edward looked levelly at her, his eyes searching. “Oh,” he said, smirking. “You're serious, aren't you?” He cackled, actually cackled, a sound as annoying as broken glass and nails on chalkboards. “You think I managed to swing this on my own?” he asked, laughing again.
“When the board hears about—”
“The board?” he asked, cutting her off, then sputtering out more demeaning laughter. “The board, Emily? Do you know who helped me do all this?”
They actually helped him? They were in on it the whole time, and maybe directed him to commit fraud like this? Was this a wholesale conspiracy on an institutional level? She straightened up and took a step away.
“You know,” he said smoothly. “If you keep pushing and pushing and pushing on this, Emily, I think you're going to find that the tables can turn on even the CEO of a company. You think they're going hang their head of sales and marketing out to dry? A man who's made billions for them? Or some upstart CEO who just got the position? In fact, as much as it's already hurt us to quietly remove Hymalete from the market, you might be pushing them too far already.”
She thought she just might break down in tears right there. Not from sadness, or from hurt, but shear anger over how completely she was painted into a corner. Emily cleared her throat and took another step towards the office door.
“Oh,” Edward piped up. “One other thing. Some reporter, Charlene Padilla, with The New York Times, is sniffing around, putting her nose where it doesn't belong. Keep giving me trouble, and I might just serve you up as the scoop of the year.”
“You wouldn't dare,” Emily said. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“Think anyone in the public gives a shit about that? You, with your good looks and your famous little pedigree? The press would latch onto you like a fat tick on a dog. They'd suck you dry and toss you aside before anyone knew the difference, swarming like sharks smelling chum.”
She shook her head slowly. “This is all your fault, though,” she said, almost disbelievingly.
Edward laughed. “You think anyone gives a flying fuck anymore? They just want to see someone tarred and feathered. They don't care who it is.”
Emily considered her options as she watched Edward recline in his chair like a mad dog that could strike at any moment. She could stay with BioSphere, but knowing what she knew now would certainly make her complicit in their crimes. Dane had been right about that part, at least. Or, the other option was to just leave. But, that still meant they could pin everything on her, and she'd have no way to see what was coming, or to be able to collect evidence for her own defense.
But, she realized, maybe there weren't just two options. Maybe there was a third way. “Fine, Edward, you win. You're probably right about my not being able to get rid of you.” Then, she turned, opened his office door, and stepped out into the eerily silent office floor.
Dozens and dozens of eyes were on the Ice Queen as she re-entered her realm for the first time in a week. Men and women alike scurried out of Emily's way as she stalked to her office, her heels like gavels on the office carpet.
Good. They needed to be afraid. Fear was a weapon, just like any other. And, maybe, if they feared her enough, that would give her some breathing room to do what she needed to. She entered her office and shut the door behind her. She flew to her desk and powered up her computer, her fingers drumming nervously on the chair's arms as she waited for it to go through its boot cycle.
She just hoped Edward didn't figure out what she was trying to do before she could manage to put it into action. She typed in her password on her computer, thanking her lucky stars Edward hadn't made a more overt move, like changing her credentials or password information. After her system logged in, she went to the files she'd found earlier, with Dane, and pulled them up.
Miss Charlene Padilla at the Times would have a field day with the amount of information Emily was about to cram down her throat. Emily just hoped she didn't choke when it mattered most.
She was just about to hit print on the files when Edward walked into her office without knocking.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he announced, as he made his way inside, that damn shit-eating grin of his on his face.
“Haven't you ever—”
“I just wanted to let you know the conference was a huge success,” he said, still as cocky as ever. He must have seen how intently she was focused on the screen, though, because his demeanor changed instantly. “What are you doing, anyway?”
“Just getting some paperwork together, about some of the things we discussed in the last meeting. Because of the, uh, car wreck, I haven't been able to work much. But the headaches are getting somewhat better.”
“Headaches, huh?” he asked, as he came around to the side of her desk.
She quickly canceled the print command and began to email the documents to her personal home email instead. She just hoped they would send quickly enough, and not set off any alarm bells in IT. “Yeah,” she said, standing up from her desk as the email went off, files attached, to begin its zipping trajectory through the internet, “I hit my head during the accident, and they start to come on at the weirdest times.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, but Emily just shook her head.
“I should probably just work from home for the next few days,” she said. “Doctors said to take it easy, and I guess they were right for once.”
“Yeah,” Edward said, nodding in agreement. “Guess so.”
She turned and powered down her computer.
“So, about what we discussed earlier,” Edward said, as she grabbed her briefcase.
“Yes? What about it?”
“I think we should discuss how we're going to get Hymalete back on the market. Before the board starts to worry about the
ir revenue, of course.”
The audacity of this man! To think he could threaten her like this, and knowingly try to make her complicit with putting it back on the market! Eyes narrowed, Emily shot him a look as he finished speaking. “Give me a couple days to think about it, Edward. I'll get back with you.”
Then, without saying another word, she left her office and headed to the elevator. Her mind was swimming with all of the possible ways she could get screwed over all of this, and trying to formulate a way for her to get out of it with her integrity, and her career, in one piece.
# # #
Dane
Holding Jas hostage was much easier than he'd thought it would be. He hadn't even needed the pistol, or any threats of violence. She seemed as interested in sticking around as he did with keeping her.
“So, you two just hit it off, then?” Jas asked, smiling delightedly and waggling her eyebrows as she sipped her wine.
Dane laughed. “You could say that. It's certainly been a fresh experience, that's for sure.”
“She's definitely a fresh experience,” Jas agreed, laughing with him.
“Oh, she's a spitfire all right,” he admitted. “And pretty hardheaded. But I like that about her. I really do.”
“Come on!” Jas replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “Emily, hardheaded? Never!”
They both laughed as Dane leaned forward with the wine bottle and topped off her glass without asking. Her having a glass or two of wine in her had definitely helped with his little charade, that was for sure.
“What have you guys been doing this whole time?”
“Just, you know,” he said, with a shrug, “relationship stuff. Working in the garden and cooking dinner together. That kind of thing.”
“Emily cooks?” Jas asked, grinning. “I didn't know that!”
“Well,” he admitted, as he poured a touch more wine into his own glass. “We're both still learning. We've been talking a lot, too. We’re getting to know each other. She's a very remarkable woman, unlike anyone I've ever met.”
He meant it, too, he realized. She was perfect. Hardheaded, spirited, beautiful, and intelligent. One look from her could cut a man down to size, or lift him up to the heavens. She was everything he'd ever sought in a woman.
“What about you?” Jas asked. “I mean, I know all about her history, kind of, but what about you, Dane?”
He smiled and shook his head. “No, you don't want to hear about me. I'm boring.”
She grinned. “If you stole Emily's heart this way, I'm going to go out on a limb and say you're definitely not boring.”
He laughed. “Well, I was in the military for a while. In the Air Force.”
“A fly boy, huh?” Jas said, leaning forward with her chin resting on one hand, a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Tell me more.”
For the next little while, Dane talked about his life and his time overseas. He steered clear of any talk about Benton, only telling Jas that he didn't get to see his brother as much as he wanted.
He took another sip of wine. “What about you?” he asked. “What do you do at BioSphere?”
“Oh, I don't know. I'm just Em' assistant. My job's pretty boring. Nothing like being a fighter pilot.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Oh, I don't think so. Come on, we're sharing here.”
Jas smiled a little. She was much more excited to talk about her job than he was to discuss his past. He carefully teased out more and more information from her, plumbing her for information about the massive corporation and how it worked. There were some useful nuggets here and there, but nothing too earth-shattering. Clearly, she wasn't very close to the action. Which would make sense, of course. She might be the CEO's assistant, but, at the end of the day, she was still an assistant.
When recent developments came up, though, she definitely piqued Dane's interests. “And now some reporter has been calling, trying to get Emily to give some on-the-record response to a story she wants to write. I've been having to push her off, though. She won't speak to our press department, or take a boilerplate form.”
“A reporter, huh?” Dane asked, as he scooted forward in his seat. “Sounds juicy.”
Jas laughed and brushed off the comment. “God, I wish. Nothing interesting ever happens at Pharma. Which, honestly,” she said, as she raised an eyebrow over her wineglass, “is probably a blessing in disguise.”
He laughed. “Take it from personal experience—‘nothing interesting’ is a good thing. Believe me.”
“But, yeah, this reporter, Charlene Padilla, keeps calling from the Times, and I might as well get a saddle fitted, for how hard Edward, that asshole who’s head of sales, has been riding me over the whole thing,” she said with a smirk.
Dane didn't laugh at the joke, though. How could he? He recognized the name. It was the reporter he'd been in contact with about Benton's case. She'd turned down his case before, but maybe something had changed. Had she gotten another line on some information, or was her interest up because Pharma had been stonewalling on her questions? Either way, it was good news for him and Benton. Definitely good news. Once he got the files in his possession, he could turn around and funnel them right to Charlene.
“Get it?” Jas asked after a minute. “A saddle, because he's been on my ass?” She put a finger to her chin and stared off into the distance. “Hmm, guess I could've made a joke about lube, too.”
Yeah, he figured. This could work. This might be the miracle he'd been hoping for when he jumped into this whole mess.
“Honestly, though, I just really hope Emily will make this reporter disappear somehow, just so she'll give my ear a rest. I mean, some of those allegations she was making, just with her questions, weren't exactly great for our image. And, you know, what's good for the company . . .”
He smiled. Yeah, what was good for the company—that was how lives were ruined. People just blissfully passed through life, thinking they were somehow shielded from their misdeeds, just because they were following orders. The truth was, though, that the people at the bottom were the ones who faced the legal penalties most of the time. When auto-makers dodged government emissions tests, it was the engineers who took one for the team, not the executives. Banks who fiddled with interest rates blamed everything on the guy on the phone, doing the trades.
“I'm really just worried about Emily,” she admitted. “I'm a small fry, and nothing bad would ever happen to me. But if some big scandal hit while she is the CEO? God, that'd just be awful!”
He waved it off. “I wouldn't worry about that reporter, especially not with some story that might affect Emily. She's a tough woman, right? And, besides, she's new to the position. Whatever's going on, or whatever allegations there are, how could she be tied up in it? And, besides, Emily's a good person. She'd never do something that got her bad press, would she?”
Jas laughed and drank down the last of her wine, before proffering her glass for a refill. Dane obliged.
“Yeah,” she said, as the dark red liquid swilled into the large wineglass. “You're probably right. I'm just worried something bad might happen, that's all.”
Dane glanced at the time on the living room clock. Those two hours were coming up. And, if Jas was telling the truth, it was even more important now that he get hold of those files.
“Worried about the time?” Jas asked, as she followed her eyes to the clock, laughing a little as she took another sip. “She's probably just hit traffic, that's all.”
He grinned, showing her his teeth. He wasn't just worried about the time for himself. He was worried about it for Jas, too.
Chapter Seventeen
Dane
Who was he kidding? He wasn't going to kill Jas. Even with all his psycho tendencies in the last week or so, there was no way he was going to kill a woman whose worst crime was happening to work at a corporation that sold bad pills to soldiers and cops. She didn't know, just like Emily hadn’t known. And, hell, she just took messages for the CEO.
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Sure, he'd killed before. He'd dropped bombs, bunker busters, and cluster munitions during war. But that had been during war, against enemy combatants, or at least people he was told were valid targets.
As he looked across the coffee table at Jas, watching her innocently drinking her wine and twirling a lock of hair with her finger, he realized there was no way he could follow through on his threat to Emily.
The time ticked along, and the two-hour mark drew closer.
Maybe she was bringing the cops with her. Maybe she was working on a plan where they could surround the house before he could get out, or where they'd just burst in. Maybe, after all his time fighting the system and finally being within reach of the evidence he needed, everything was about to come tumbling down around his head.