Trevor Reese: His Secret Love

by Mallory Monroe

  “2931,” he was told.

  And he didn’t hesitate. He folded the newspaper, emptied his remaining coffee down the drain, and left Carly’s condo. But instead of heading downstairs, to the parking garage, he headed upstairs, to the twenty-ninth floor.

  When Douglas looked through his peephole and saw who it was, he was surprised, but far too curious not to open the door. He opened the door. Trevor walked in without being asked, and closed it behind him.

  “May I help you?” Douglas asked.

  “Nice place,” Trevor said, walking around.

  “May I help you?” Douglas asked again.

  Trevor turned and faced him, and folded his arms. “My name is Trevor Reese,” he said.

  Douglas nodded. “I know who you are.” He knew she was Carly’s boss.

  “You know my PR Director, do you not?”

  Douglas wondered how much did Trevor really know. “I’m her real estate agent,” he said. “So what?”

  “A real estate agent who catches damsels in distress?” Trevor asked.

  Douglas hesitated. How would he know about that? Did Carly mention it to him? The way she slapped him so easily, he took her to be a tough lady who could handle herself. But she ran to her boss? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

  “You touched her ass,” Trevor said.

  Douglas’s heart began to pound. This man looked serious as a heart attack.

  Trevor looked him dead in the eye. “Nobody touches her ass,” he said.

  “But you?” Douglas asked. If he had to put his cards on the table about his intention, he didn’t see why her boss shouldn’t have to also.

  But Trevor was not the kind of man who took orders from chumps like Douglas. “Nobody touches her ass,” he said again.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Douglas said. “But if I did touch her ass, as you put it, then I would think it would be between she and I to work that out. You shouldn’t have anything to do with it.”

  Trevor grabbed him and threw him so far across the room he slid over a side table and caused a lamp to crash to the floor right along with him. Douglas couldn’t believe what just happened and scrambled to his feet.

  But Trevor kicked the table aside, grabbed Douglas by the catch of his shirt, and ran with him until his back was slammed against the wall. Douglas’s eyes were wide open now.

  “Touch her again,” Trevor said to within an inch of Douglas’s face, “and you will understand that I have everything to do with it.”

  “She wanted to look at houses. All I was doing was showing her houses! I’m her real estate agent!”

  It distressed Trevor that Carly had not mentioned the fact that she was house hunting, and he had to find out through her security detail, but he knew a predator when he saw one. “You resign as her agent,” he said to Douglas. “You move out of this building and stay away from her. You get out of her circle of friends. You disassociate yourself from her completely and entirely.”

  “I don’t see where I did anything wrong,” Douglas had the nerve to ask.

  Trevor punched Douglas in the gut, causing him to bend over in severe pain, and then grabbed him by the hair, lifted him back up, and punched him violently in the face. Douglas fell to his knees. Trevor kicked him in the chin, causing blood to fly out of his mouth as a tooth flew out too.

  Trevor knelt down beside him. “If you don’t leave her alone,” he said, “I won’t be as kind and considerate as I am being to you right now.” Then he added: “Mr. McCarren?”

  Douglas was in so much pain he couldn’t speak. But he looked up at Trevor.

  “Don’t fuck with me,” Trevor warned. “You said you know who I am. But you don’t know me.”

  Trevor stared at Douglas a moment longer, and then left.

  CHAPTER NINE

  It was later that evening when Trevor arrived at his estate on the outskirts of Boston. He was exhausted. All he wanted to do was get himself a nightcap and then get himself to bed. What he didn’t want, as he walked beyond his foyer and entered his massive living area, was to find a visitor sitting on his sofa. An uninvited visitor. He stopped in his tracks.

  “Hello, Mr. Reese.”

  It was Mick Sinatra, Carly’s uncle and one of the most ruthless mob bosses Trevor had ever known. Mick the Tick, as in bad temper; as in ticking time bomb, they called him.

  “Come and have a seat,” Mick suggested.

  Trevor didn’t like being told what to do in his own home, and therefore didn’t go and take a seat. But he did walk closer toward his uninvited guest.

  “I suppose you’re wondering how I managed to get past your very good security.”

  “The how I don’t wonder about,” Trevor responded. “You’re Mick the Tick. You have your ways. The why are you here? That is what I wonder about.”

  Mick leaned forward. He was dressed in a brown suit, white shirt, no tie. He was a big, imposing man. Trevor knew he had to stay on his guard. “I heard you were the man responsible for taking out Lance Celletti.”

  Lanceno Celletti. Trevor wasn’t surprised that word of his assassination had traveled that fast. It was a set up anyway. The Celletti crime family, from Trevor’s vantage point, had a vested interest in news of the death traveling as fast as possible. “That’s what you heard?” he asked Mick.

  Mick looked at him. He wasn’t going to dignify that response. “He’s a boss,” he said.

  “I’m aware of that.”

  “Were you aware of it at the time of the execution?”

  Trevor hesitated. “No,” he said.

  Mick stared at Trevor. He knew he was a government operative. He knew he snuffed out the people the government wanted snuffed out. But he wondered if he understood the magnitude of what he’d done. “How did you not know?”

  Trevor decided now was the time to sit down. He knew Celletti’s death opened up a can of worms he might not be able to reseal alone, especially since the agency appeared to be involved too. “The target was supposed to be a general who had committed some serious war crimes in Aleppo, in Syria,” he said as he sat in the archtop chair. “Lua Chekov was who I was told was my target. Everything was set up, and I took out the target. It was only after the hit did I realize it wasn’t the general, but a mob boss.”

  “They came for you,” Mick said as if it were a fact.

  Since it was, Trevor didn’t try to deny it. “They came hard, yes,” he said. “They didn’t fire warning shots. They came to kill my ass.”

  Mick placed his elbows on his thighs and his fists beneath his chin. He appeared to be in deep concentration. “What are your conclusions?” he asked.

  “I hear there’s a turf war. I hear there’s a fight for control of Celletti’s organization. I figure they wanted him assassinated, but couldn’t do it themselves. They needed a mark. They chose me.”

  “By working with CIA?”

  Trevor nodded. “That’s what I believe, yes.”

  Mick continued to contemplate the possibilities. “So what you’re saying,” he said, “is that your very own employer set you up?” He said this and looked at Trevor. He needed to know if the younger man understood the gravity of his situation.

  “Yes,” Trevor said. “That’s what I’m saying.”

  “Have you discovered why?” Mick asked.

  Trevor shook his head. “Not yet, no. But I’m working on it.”

  “Work harder on it. I may be able to stave off a retaliatory strike for right now, but not for very long. And not at all if it is the government, rather than Celletti’s men, pulling the strings. You may not know this,” Mick continued, with a smile, “but I have no influence over government officials. None.”

  Trevor smiled too.

  But then Mick’s smile was gone. “What about my niece?” he asked. “She, after all, is the reason I’m here.”

  Trevor had already worked that part out. Although Carly was adopted into the Sinatra family, she was loved and accepted as if sh
e was theirs by blood. He respected them for loving her that way. “What about Carly?” he asked.

  “Do I need to put a detail on her?”

  Trevor was offended. Was he serious? “No,” he said. “I have her covered.”

  “You have a detail on her?”

  He had two details on Carly, but that wasn’t Sinatra’s business. “Yes,” he said.

  “She’s well protected?”

  “Yes. That I can assure you.”

  Mick stared at Trevor. “I will be frank with you,” he said. “I would have preferred Carly find herself an unencumbered man, but she didn’t take that route. She chose you. Now myself and her father have to entrust her to the man she chose. But . . .”

  Trevor waited for more. “But what?”

  “But you’d better be worthy of that trust.”

  “No doubt,” Trevor responded.

  He and Mick shared a long stare. Mono to mono. When Mick was satisfied that Trevor understood where he was coming from, he rose to his feet. Trevor stood too. “May I ask you a question?” Mick asked.

  Trevor smiled. “I’ve never known a man like you not to ask if he wanted to ask.”

  Mick smiled too. “You are correct.”

  Trevor laughed.

  Then Mick’s look turned serious. “What are your intentions concerning my niece?”

  Trevor’s gaiety gave way to more seriousness too. “We’re going to try to make it work,” he said.

  “Do you love her?”

  Trevor’s heart began to pound. This was not a discussion he cared to have with anyone. He believed sincerely that if he revealed his true feelings for Carly, he would be placing Carly’s life at risk. No matter who he revealed it too. “I don’t know,” he managed to say.

  Mick stared at him. “You need to know,” he said, “before she’s in too deep.”

  Trevor nodded. He could respect that. “Yes, sir,” he said, just as his intercom buzzed. He pressed the button on his phone. “Yes?”

  “Miss Sinatra is out here, sir.”

  Mick looked at Trevor. Trevor was already frowning. “What do you mean she’s out there?”

  “She out here at the gate. She requests permission to see you, sir.”

  Trevor couldn’t believe it. “Permission?” He hurried to his front door, flung it open, and hurried out.

  Mick walked out behind him and stood at the top step. He watched as Trevor hurried down

  the steps and then began running. The gate opened as he approached it. When he saw Carly standing outside of her Lexus, leaned against her passenger side door as if she was a stranger on his property, his anger rose. Was she angry because of what happened at work today, and was pulling this stunt out of some sordid revenge? Or did his guys fuck up?

  He opened his arms. “What are you asking permission for?” he asked Carly angrily as he approached her.

  “I’m not asking for anything,” Carly responded. “I couldn’t get through.”

  Trevor looked at Luke, one of the two men in the security booth tasked with manning the electronic gate. “Why would she need permission to get onto my property?”

  “I didn’t know if she still had clearance, sir.”

  Trevor frowned again. “Why wouldn’t she have clearance? Her clearance is a standing order. The only standing order I’ve granted for anybody, and you assholes couldn’t get that right?”

  Trevor was fired up, and Carly understood why. She’d never had her right of passage questioned. Until now.

  “Who told you to question her clearance?” Trevor asked. “Neither one of your asses are new. Who ordered you to question her?”

  “Not her, sir,” Luke responded. “But we were told to question anybody who wanted entry onto the property.”

  Trevor frowned. “You were told? Told by whom?”

  Luke looked at his partner in the booth, and then looked at Trevor. “Mick Sinatra, sir.”

  Carly stood erect. “Uncle Mick?”

  Trevor couldn’t believe it. “Oh, you mean the man you allowed onto my property who didn’t have permission, told you to not let anybody on my property without permission?” he asked.

  Carly looked toward the house. When she saw her uncle standing on the top step, she smiled.

  “Well?” Trevor asked. “How the fuck did that happen?”

  “He suggested we tighten security, sir. He said he saw gaps. Because he said that, and the fact that he was here, we assumed something was up.”

  “You assumed?”

  “He’s Mick the Tick, sir,” Luke said. “We knew you had a standing relationship with him.”

  “And because I had a standing relationship with him, you not only allowed him onto my property, but inside my home?”

  “He asked if he could wait for you. You didn’t expect us to have Mick the Tick standing outside of your gate, or sitting on your steps. Did you, sir?”

  Trevor couldn’t believe it. “You’re fired,” he said. “Both of you. No man is above me on my own property, I don’t care who he is! Now get the fuck out of my sight, and get out now!”

  Both men, stunned, began hurrying out of the booth. They knew what Trevor Reese was capable of.

  Trevor pulled out his small, beeper-sized walkie talkie. He pressed the button.

  “Yes, sir, Boss?” It was another member of his security team. He worked the grounds. “Hank, come work the front gate. Bring another man with you. Luke and Trey are no longer employed.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m on my way.”

  And Trevor ended the call. Then he looked at Carly. “Sorry about that,” he said.

  “What’s Uncle Mick doing here?” she asked him.

  “He wanted to make sure I could take care of you,” Trevor said.

  Carly considered him. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him hell no,” Trevor said. “You can take care of yourself.”

  Carly smiled. “Sure you did,” she said, and got in her Lexus on the passenger seat. “Just take me to him.”

  Trevor smiled too, got in her car behind the wheel, and drove toward his front door.

  CHAPTER TEN

  In the cafeteria downstairs, Carly and her girlfriends burst into laughter at the same time Trevor entered the crowded space. It immediately caught his attention, because she seemed so happy, but he kept walking over to the dessert stand. Those were her friends, friends he only knew about because of his protective surveillance of Carly, and a depressed feeling came over him. She was getting a raw deal, he thought, being with him. He couldn’t even show affection to her in a crowded room. But giving her up would be one of the toughest things he’d ever done in a life replete with doing tough things. He didn’t see how he could.

  At a booth near the elongated windows, Carly was laughing and talking with JoAnna and Pauline. Both ladies had come over to Reese Marketing to have lunch with Carly, who was too swamped to get away. Carly was at first resistant to any lunch. Now she was glad they came.

  “I needed a break for real,” she said as she picked up her tuna sandwich. She sat on one side of the table while JoAnna and Pauline sat across from her on the opposite side. “Thanks for coming over, ladies.”

  “No need to thank us!” JoAnna decried. “We love hanging with you.”

  “Speaking of hanging,” Pauline said, “have you heard from Douglas?”

  Carly took a bite of her sandwich and shook her head. “Not since yesterday, no. He showed me a house that I liked, but I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know what?” Pauline asked. “You don’t know that he’s gorgeous? You don’t know that he has a good job? You don’t know that a good man like him is hard to find?”

  “He creeps me out is the truth of it,” Carly said. “He’s nice, but too nice, you know what I’m saying?

  JoAnna nodded. “Yeah, he was coming on a little strong at the club. I thought so too. But he’s supposed to be good in his field. We thought he could really help you in your house search.”

  “I fire
d him.”

  Both ladies looked at her. JoAnna grinned. “You fired him? Why?”

  “He tried to feel me up when he was showing me a house on his phone.”

  JoAnna shook her head. “Men,” she said. “And he seemed so normal.”

  “The only reason I brought him up,” Pauline said, “is because he called me this morning and said he spent the night in the hospital.”

  Carly and JoAnna both were surprised. “In the hospital?” JoAnna asked. “For what? He looked like the picture of health to me.”

  “He said he was carjacked,” Pauline informed them. “He said some punks beat the crap out of him. And he has the scars to prove it.”

  “Either that,” Carly said, “or some husband beat the crap out of him.”

  They laughed, but as soon as Carly said what she said she thought about Trevor. Was one of his people in the gym yesterday morning, saw it, and then told him about it? Was he the “husband” that beat the crap out of Douglas? Then she smiled. What an imagination, Carly!

  “Hello, ladies.”

  She knew that voice, and looked immediately. Trevor, in his pristine Armani suit, was standing at their table with a napkin-clad, already half-eaten pastry in his hand. She smiled, as did the other ladies. “Good afternoon. I see you’ve managed to get your sweet fix already.”

  He smiled too. Carly looked so young and unburdened sitting there. So full of life and vitality. He loved that look on her. “Can’t resist sometimes,” he said sheepishly.

  Pauline gently but decisively kicked Carly under the table.

  “Oh,” Carly said, remembering her friends. “I would like you to meet two of my friends, Mr. Reese. This is Pauline Stemple, and this is JoAnna Regis. Ladies, this is my boss, Trevor Reese.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Trevor said as he nodded at both women.

  “So you’re the Reese in Reese Marketing?” Pauline asked with a smile.

  “That’s one way to put it, yes, ma’am.”

  “Please have a seat,” JoAnna said, motioning to the booth space next to Carly. “Join us, please.”

  Trevor had no intentions of joining them, and had more work on his desk than there was time in the day. But he couldn’t resist. These were two of Carly’s friends. He was her man, yet, for obvious reasons, had never had a conversation with either one of them. It was a good opportunity. He sat down beside Carly.