I tapped gently on her door.
“Come in.”
She was in the midst of reviewing a floor plan, and she forced herself to look away from it, disrupting her concentration. I could see the irritation starting to flicker on her face, followed by a scrutinizing stare.
“Good morning, Miss Lancaster. I have your morning coffee.”
I placed it on her desk, carefully avoiding any paperwork. I also set creamer and sugar by its side, not knowing how she took it. I would find out soon enough.
“Don’t you own a phone, Mr. Archer?”
She leaned far back in her chair, arms folded across her chest.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Her expression pleased me to no end. Unable to resist her presence, I took my seat opposite her desk. “Join me,” I said, holding up a cup of my own. I watched as she poured creamer in, replaced the lid, and took a sip.
Noted.
“How can I help you, Mr. Archer? As you can see, I’m very busy.”
As I casually glanced over at what held her interest, I recognized the floor plans of the warehouse I just so happened to own. I gazed up, challenging her unshakable demeanor, and our silent showdown begun. I took a slow drink, faced with her stubborn determination. It was an undeniable quality I happened to admire.
“I assume you know that’s the building I own.”
“I’m well aware.”
“And what do you hope to find there?”
Poised and deeply professional, I saw her debating whether to let me in. She had the power to remove me from this investigation, but so far, she hadn’t.
Fascinating.
“You have a lead.”
Her stoic response only confirmed it.
“Fill me in. I’ve worked on the blueprints for almost a year, and there’s been updates you’re not privy to. I know the building inside out.”
“No. It’s just a hunch,” she said, underplaying the entire scenario.
“Quite the contrary. The ‘hunch,’ as you put it, they’re usually the best leads. You need me. I’ll be an asset.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, a wide grin appearing on her face.
I was unable to look away. Had I met my match? I did love a good challenge, but this required another tactic altogether.
I rose, leaning on my knuckles, hovering over her desk.
“You and I, we’re the same. Exactly alike. Attracted to the rush, the unnatural thrill of the chase. We’ve seen the same wars, and we’ve had the courage to act. I’ve killed, and you’ve killed, but it’s only made us stronger, and more fearless. We don’t let people in. We’re complicated and not easy to know. Loners. That is, until we meet our match, or our equal. Then, and only then, in that combination, will the numbness melt away.”
She listened to my rant in silence.
“Insightful,” she finally replied, but she looked uncomfortable.
The truth was thought-provoking.
“Likewise. Now come join me. You won’t need a warrant.”
I felt a flash of pride as emotion filled my chest. The words were true for both of us.
“Fine, but we’re only going there to check it out.”
“Right.”
I enjoyed spending time with her. She understood the world I lived in, because she lived there as well. The ultimate task was always to survive.
I insisted on driving, refusing to fold my body in half by attempting to fit into her Toyota Prius. She agreed, and it was easier than I’d anticipated. I got the feeling she was picking her battles.
“Fill me in.”
“A lead came in, but it wasn’t a confirmed sighting in the vicinity. He could be anywhere, from the swankiest hotels to an abandoned warehouse. The link between the two of you only confirmed that this would be a good choice, either to entice you here, or create a bomb threat. There’s a hundred different scenarios.”
I took in her words, although being back at the construction site made me uneasy. It was the same vicinity of Alex’s warehouse where I’d brought him to make his peace with Graham.
The killer couldn’t know that, but if by some chance he did, then he was toying with me.
“Nick, you need to know, there was an incident that happened very close to this warehouse. It just occurred to me: if Echo was privy to this information, it’s likely he has a plan to pull me into a trap.”
“What happened here?”
“Without divulging certain client confidentially issues, it was a scare tactic. No violence took place, but I find the whole coincidence theory off.”
I neglected to tell her the part about kidnapping, and I was sure there were a number of additional infractions, as well.
“Look.” Pointing to the broken glass panel on the door.
I picked up my phone once we’d parked out of sight. Speed dial number one.
“Flynn here. What’s going on, Steel?”
“Precautionary measures. Send backup immediately to my warehouse, the one under construction.”
“On it, sir.”
“I’m contacting my office.”
I could see Nick’s anxiety rising as she pulled her Glock out, ready for anything. I listened to her call in for backup, preparing them that they would have an additional private sector on site.
I overheard a few choice words on the other end of the line, followed by, “yes, sir.”
Then she ended the call. Her unrelenting stare told me she wanted to beat me to a pulp. She barged ahead, and to my utter surprise, she vacated the SUV.
Fuck.
The fact that she had the balls to step up like that floored me. I had no choice but to follow closely behind, glued to her back, cautiously turning every second to ensure any danger didn’t approach from behind. I systematically scanned my surroundings. My focus sharpened, scanning in a one-eighty perimeter around the outer premises of the building.
In an instant, we were attacked by gunfire. Quickly pinpointing the roof, and the long-range tactical rifle, we were glued to the exterior as we made safe passage through the back door.
“Behind you. Go!”
We entered slowly and methodically, the anticipation of a threat at every corner. Nick’s eyes focused straight ahead as I followed nuts to butts, searching left to right. My racing heartbeat and the drumming of my pulse consumed me. The enemy felt close enough to taste his blood.
We climbed each step with my hand on her shoulder. Our movement was precise and fluid, like we were one. The quiet was deafening as I felt her body heat beneath me.
“Clear left, clear right,” I said, confirming safety as our steady climb became higher to our unknown assailant.
Rat-tat-tat…
The firing above us was now aiming low and accurate, and all the rage I felt returned.
“Against the wall,” I directed her, but she was glued to the concrete, moving quicker than I could trail. Her small frame had the advantage. She was seeing something. Her strike moved in slow motion as I watched her confident stance.
Her face was the face of war.
She aimed, then fired off several rounds.
Christ.
She didn’t hesitate, and I moved to keep up. Staying together was my first objective. So was forcing myself back to the here and now. There was a slight peek of the assailant’s rifle, and I prepared to fire, but he got his shot in first, clipping my shoulder.
Churning in fury, the enemy was mine.
We took two steps as Nick returned fire. I heard her exchanging magazines as I took my shots over her head, aiming high. The poisonous taste of revenge was feeding the wrath he’d unleashed in me.
“One more flight. It’s either this floor, or the roof. Stay close.”
We swept the top.
“Hot left.”
We prepared for any danger within the door on the left.
Once inside, she said, “Clear.”
The top floor was empty, and only shell casings had been left behind. Leaving the roof as our only
option.
“What’s the plan?” I asked her.
She didn’t disappoint; her strategy directive spoke in rapid-fire precision.
I followed her in step by step, ready for the shot. My heart stopped beating for a second. The moment we opened the heavy door, its hinges squeaked against our shoulders. We stayed low, making it to the first operative structure safely behind an old and rusted air conditioner unit. As we were crouched down, she searched north as I searched south. We repeated the process until the roof was clear
Our gazes connected in confusion. There was no one here, no obvious way of escape, and the place was empty. The intensity of my rage weighed heavily on me as defeat and frustration coiled deep inside my gut.
We watched as a dozen vehicles approached.
“Our backup has arrived.”
“You realize the shit storm we’re in for?”
She holstered her weapon, and I did as well.
“Not me. I answer to no one.”
I smirked in her direction.
“You’re bleeding.”
I shrugged and continued my way down.
“Hold up, let me look.”
I leaned on the wall as she inspected my injury.
“I’ll recover, it’s just a scratch. Do you have any Band-Aids with Ninja Turtles?”
Her smile was worth the scorching pain. The chemistry between us was combustible. The sexual sparks flared. I was captured by her gaze, but beneath the surface, I was tumbling into madness.
“I’m fine,” I said harshly, yet I was unsteady on my feet, fighting to contain my cool exterior, all to impress this woman. As the men arrived, we briefed them. Working together, they entered the building to search for any additional evidence.
Flynn approached me. His gaze shifted to Nick, then back to mine.
“How bad are you hurt?”
“It’s nothing.” My mixture of rage and frustration is noticeable as Flynn moves my shirt, confirming the injury. “Flynn, this is Nick Lancaster, FBI.”
“We spoke briefly on the phone,” he said, shaking her hand. “So, Nick is Nichole?. Nice to know we have your support.”
Once again, his gaze sharpened on me.
“There’s much to discuss, and Nick has provided some valuable information,” I said. “We’ll get into the details later.”
“I have one hell of a file to report,” she said.
That smooth voice of hers was soft yet strong, a combination I found very appealing.
“I’ll contact you later,” I told her. Her slightly disheveled look left me wanting more.
“And Nick, thank you.”
She nodded, but I saw what was lurking deep within her eyes. A small flame had just ignited, and I was the perfect man to pour on the fuel.
The Past
“I’m here to see Patricia Mitchelle.”
Standing at the front desk of Morning Side Meadows didn’t stop the guilt that suffocated me, even as the beautiful surroundings of the retirement community surrounded me. I couldn’t take care of her any longer, but this decision was the hardest choice I ever had to make.
“Sign in, please,” the woman sitting behind the desk instructed. Then I entered the hall slowly, making my way to her room, once again reminding myself that it was for the best.
At first, I had chalked up the signs to her age. Her walking had slowed, she’d had a fall. She felt weak and had constant pain and cramping in her legs. But when her speech started to slur, and she experienced trouble swallowing, I realized something much more serious was happening.
It didn’t take long for the diagnosis to come. ALS, or Lou Gehrig’s disease. A neurological disease which basically destroys the nerves that transmit messages from your brain to your body. In time, the body would begin to deteriorate until you were too weak to perform basic functions. All the while, your brain was cognitively intact and sharp. It sounded like a horror story at the time. Now, I was living it.
Under normal circumstances, she could live with me, and she had. But there had come a point when it all became far too much, and she knew it, too. But it destroyed me, all the same. The weight I continually carried only magnified the moment I reached her room.
There was no escape from this reality.
I stepped into her room and walked up to her bed.
“Hi, Mom.”
I leaned over to kiss her cheek. Her eyes were open and gazing back at me, the smile evident in her eyes. Her body may have been broken, but not her spirit. She was a remarkable woman, but I feared the day her speech would go, so for now, I lived in this moment with her.
“How do you feel?”
I raised her bed to an upright position using the controls entwined around the railing.
Her speech was slurred as she answered me.
“Don’t worry yourself, Jordan, I’m fine.”
I took her hand in mine and edged the chair closer to her bed.
“Fine, huh?” She was far from fine, but I wouldn’t challenge her bravery. “Look what I brought.” Holding up a chocolate shake, I watched as her eyes went big. I knew every little nuance about her. She had an insatiable sweet tooth, so I held the straw to her lips as she struggled to swallow.
“Just a sip at a time, Mom.”
“How’s…your new job?” she asked.
“My dream job? It’s good. Things have changed since Mr. Storm passed, but it’s fine.”
“Fine, huh?”
She was throwing my words back at me, and I relished in her ability to hold on to the best parts of herself. She was still a force to be reckoned with.
“Okay, not so fine.” I reached for the shake, offering her another sip. “It’s the same young man I’ve spoken about, the one you told me not to mix pleasure with business, Ben.”
“He’s not right…for you.”
“That’s what you keep saying, but why?”
“You’re his boss… Men don’t…”
She stumbled over her inability to speak, so I instantly picked up where she’d left off, trying to avoid the frustration she must be feeling inside.
“I understand. A man’s ego can’t usually fathom a woman being their boss, and mixing a professional relationship with a personal one is a recipe for disaster.”
I saw the acknowledgment in her face and continued.
“I don’t think it matters, anyway, because something has changed, and he’s pulled away. The signs that all pointed toward his attraction to me have disappeared completely.”
I watched as her eyes closed slowly, then reopened, a sign of understanding.
“It just doesn’t make sense. I thought he genuinely cared for me, but it’s strictly business now. Although I can’t just turn off these feelings, Mom.”
I was pushing myself to move on, questioning if it was even possible—or if I actually wanted to.
“Go find yourself a nice young man.”
I stood and opened the drapes a bit, letting in a small slant of light. Then I turned, looking over my shoulder and laughing. Her motherly advice was still very much intact.
“Just like that? Just head on over to ‘Men R Us’ pick out the model that most appeals to me?”
“Smarty-pants.”
Rationally, I understood all that. I knew all the issues that could go wrong mixing the two. A garden variety of reasons why I should stay away.
But I didn’t want to look for someone else. I wanted him. I was fascinated by Ben. It occurred to me that when his father created my position as CEO he had cemented my future but put obstacles between us.
“More?” I asked, waiving the cup. I placed the straw on her lips once again, but she struggled this time, causing me to grab the cloth from her bedside. Then I gently wiped her chin.
I decided to bravely ask once again.
“The secret money,” I started.
Her gaze locked onto mine, but my biggest fear was losing her, and never knowing the secrets she held so close. The secrets that directly affected me.
“Is the money coming from the man who is my father?”
I was starting to think that it might be the case. The mystery of who my father was remained the biggest obstacle in our relationship.
“Don’t know.”
She knew the source of the money arriving like clockwork every month paying for her every need. She had to know. There was no logical explanation other than it had to have come from someone who had loved her. Who else would be so generous?
And for whatever reason, he couldn’t share his life with us. I wouldn’t dredge up that conversation again, it only upsets her. The identity of my father would remain a mystery. She had made that clear years ago. And maybe she was protecting me in her own way. Maybe he wasn’t in the picture because he couldn’t be.
“Okay, Mom, I’ll let you off the hook. I brought our favorite movie, The Sound of Music.”
“Chris…toper Plumber, hot.”
She always brought an unexpected smile to my face. Truthfully, I knew she was fading. I’d recognized the stages as the illness stole her from me. But I held on to a part of her even when she was at her worst. It was better than nothing at all.
She had shaped me into the woman I was today. I had sought out a career specifically designed to succeed. Utilizing my natural-born gifts, I had honed in and mastered how best to use those skills to the best of my ability. When someone you respected believed in you, you started to believe in yourself. That’s what my mother did for me.
It wasn’t too much longer after that visit that I lost her.
The sadness was overpowered by the relief of not having to see her in a vegetable state anymore. She had finally found peace, but it took a very long time for me to do the same.
And I would never to be able to watch The Sound of Music again.
My intercom buzzed and brought me crashing back to the present. I picked up the phone.
“Mr. Storm is on his way to see you.”
Oh, is he now?
“Thank you, that’s fine.”
My glass office allowed a unique advantage as his long legs ate up the distance between us. His shoulder was now leaning on my doorframe.
“Alex and Madison’s ceremony is tonight.” His gaze searched mine. “May I come in?”
“Of course.”
His devilish smile appeared. I had to will myself to keep my hands to myself. Going public was inevitable, but for today, it was still our little secret. The closer he became, the more my body responded. The heat swelled instantly between us, and I fought the intense urge to caress him. Instead, I drowned in his scent, which was hovering in a sexual cloud that followed him in.
Surviving Jordon (Surviving Series Book 3) Page 14