Greed

by Lana Pecherczyk

  It presented the perfect opportunity to gather evidence in relation to Lilo and her effect on his internal balance.

  He entered his office and found Lilo waiting, staring out the window to the city below. Excellent. He could start his study immediately.

  Quickly, he checked his tattoo, then his watch. First, he would measure how long it took for his equilibrium to equalize after touching her. After spending the afternoon away from her, his tattoo had begun to tilt off balance. Letting Mary train his magnetic skills had been a generous act on his behalf because he had done it to appease her. Now his tattoo was more white than black.

  Lilo hugged her denim jacket tight across her front as though it were as cold inside as out. But that was not true. Outside it snowed gently. Inside the building’s internal heating kept the temperature at a cozy ambience no matter what room you walked into. If anything, she should have her jacket removed. That would make it easier for him to find a spot of skin to touch.

  His tongue pressed against his teeth and he fiddled with his watch until he set the timer. A loud beep announced his arrival.

  “Hello, Lilo,” he said.

  “Griffin.” Lilo slipped off the desk and came over to him, stopping just a foot away.

  He inhaled and wished he hadn’t. Common sense fled, and he had to close his eyes to rein in his emotions, but all he could smell was her and it was more intoxicating than ever. No bubblegum this time—just raw, pure woman.

  “I’m so glad I caught you.” She sounded strained.

  “Is something wrong?” Griffin opened his eyes.

  “Donnie was there this morning. He claimed people witnessed the attacker’s costume and confirmed it was Greed.”

  “Doppenger was there?”

  Something sparked within Griffin, recollections almost fitting together. It was a fleeting feeling, as though he almost remembered, but it remained out of reach. He shook it off. Usually thoughts like that resolved themselves when he otherwise occupied himself.

  “Yes,” she continued, “but I told them I only saw a man wearing a black hoodie. I’m sorry if that puts you in a terrible position. I hate lying, and I just want you to know that if you feel you have to tell the truth, then that’s okay. Well, it’s not okay really, but I respect your opinion, but if you hold off for a wee bit, we can investigate properly.” She gasped as though she hadn’t taken breath the entire time she spoke.

  Hopeful brown eyes blinked up at him.

  This was clearly causing her anxiety. She wrung her hands together until her knuckles whitened. Chagrined, she noticed what she did and shook them out at her side.

  Perhaps this was a good opportunity to make contact. He took hold of her left hand and squeezed firmly, mentally counting the seconds. He figured five would count for prolonged contact, then he could check his tattoo.

  “I only saw a man in a black hoodie too,” he confirmed.

  “Oh, thank God.” She sighed and covered his hand with her right.

  But it was a light touch. He flinched.

  “I’m sorry.” Lilo let go and looked pointedly at his hands. “You’re sensitive, aren’t you?”

  In those few short words, he felt exposed. Open. As though she’d cut into his mind and pried out his innermost secret. It even felt more of an intrusion than if she’d discovered he were one of the Deadly Seven. She saw straight through to his vulnerability. Lilo didn’t look at him as though he were some odd creature, or with pity, she noticed the ropy scar on the back of his hand and stared at him with all-seeing eyes, smiling gently.

  Sensitive.

  His mouth went dry. “Correct.”

  “Again, I’m sorry.” She shook her head, admonishing herself. “I can be so handsy sometimes. I will be careful not to touch you in the future.”

  That he would never again feel the warmth of her skin was not a thought he enjoyed entertaining, and it had nothing to do with his study. Her heat echoed on his hand, a ghost of her touch. He was sensitive, yes, but not immune to wanting that human connection. In fact, he felt it more acutely than most people.

  “I hope that’s not true.” He swallowed. “It’s just, sometimes firm is better than soft. Like this.” Griffin kept his eyes locked with hers and lifted his hand toward her neck. He paused, realizing that earlier he too had touched her without permission. “May I?”

  She tipped her chin in consent.

  As his hand lifted toward her, he hesitated. Every fiber in his body wanted to reach out to her. It was so natural and, yet, it was unlike anything he’d experienced before. After his tactile trauma, he’d hand picked his sexual experiences to be brief encounters, wary of what would happen if he exposed his vulnerabilities to the wrong person. But Lilo watched patiently. She waited for him. He knew that she’d never call him weird, freak or anything else.

  His fingers slid around her neck to grasp her nape while his thumb brushed her jaw in a single sweep that stopped firmly at her cheekbone. He fought the tingles now drilling into his body. His muscles locked tight in anticipation and he waited for the surge of anxiety to hit him.

  Two glazed eyes stared back at him, pupils dilating, as she turned her awareness inwards.

  Her lips opened, and she inhaled.

  “Like this?” She lifted her own hand to slide around his neck in a firm grasp.

  He tensed as the touch hit him. More sensations shot along his spine. But where he usually felt anxiety, this was different. He wanted it. His body reacted with heat and longing.

  His lids shuttered as he immersed himself in the moment. It had been so long since he’d simply been like this with another person. With a woman. He dipped his forehead until it met hers and exhaled, letting his breath take away his discomposure, replacing it with peace.

  “Yes,” he murmured. “Perfect.”

  While icy gusts blew against the windows of his office, they stood leaning into each other for what felt like minutes. Minutes filled with steady breathing and heat soaking through his palm, slowly melting away the tension that often held him hostage. He sensed movement as flurries of wind hit the pane. Light flickered with the fading light outside.

  Slowly he opened his eyes; her own were shuttered. The wrinkles between her forehead had smoothed, and her pink lips tipped up one side, happy. He’d done that, given her a smile… made her feel good just like she’d eased him through touch. That revelation battered against the logical preconceptions he’d held so dear. She shouldn’t make him feel so good simply by being there, but she did, and he didn’t want to let go.

  He disengaged and stepped back.

  “I apologize Lilo. That was inappropriate.” Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight. He was at work. He cleared his throat and tucked his shirt which had somehow pulled clear of his pants when he stretched. “Please forgive me.”

  She flashed a brief smile. “Believe me, nothing to forgive. It was nice. In fact, I’d be open to doing that again. Any time. I mean.” Her eyes widened. “I don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m embarrassing myself, aren’t I? Oh goodness, this is as bad as your butt. I mean, your butt wasn’t bad, it was good. I’m talking about it being nice. And your sister’s.” She clapped her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

  A small smile touched his lips. He liked it when she couldn’t hide her thoughts. It was refreshing to have someone so open in a world ruled by lies and greed. He had a sudden urge to kiss that honest mouth and his emotions frightened him. He wasn’t the kind of man to spontaneously kiss a woman. He was planned and prepared.

  The metal objects on his desk began rattling and Lilo looked over, confused. Shit. He turned away and calmed his beating heart. God, he was awful at controlling his urges around her. Until he was, she wouldn’t be safe near him.

  “We should probably get back to work before the day is done.” He gestured at the closed door leading to the rest of the office.

  “Yes. Right. You’re right. I need to get back to my desk.” She sidestepped Griffin and went to open the door
.

  “Wait,” he blurted.

  She stopped.

  “In your message, you mentioned another investigation.”

  Lilo turned, paling. “Yes.”

  “Do you have a lead?”

  “Maybe. I think speaking with my mother is a good start.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  A blush tinged her cheeks. “You will?”

  She stepped forward. He wanted to kiss her again. And that was wrong. So wrong. He wasn’t in control around her. This couldn’t be about him wanting to be near her, it had to be about work.

  “It would all be part of your process and something I should learn to understand before I move onto the next employee.”

  “Oh. The process. Of course.” Her demeanor changed from relaxed to tense. The mood in the room darkened. She opened the door stiffly. “Thank you for the offer, but this is personal. I’ll manage on my own.”

  Griffin followed her through the door and frowned as she walked along the corridor. He must have said something wrong, or maybe he’d overstepped personal boundaries when he’d touched her.

  To make matters worse, in all the confusion, he’d failed to check his bio-indicator for a control marker and neglected to stop his timer. Frustrated, he flicked out his arm to reveal his wrist and viewed the tattoo. Completely balanced after skin-on-skin contact. It had only been a few minutes, but when writing a new protocol, seconds could make the world of difference. Now, the question was whether to do something selfish or generous and record the effect, or to start over. He should probably start a spreadsheet.

  Sitting at his desk, he moved the newspapers he’d been looking at earlier to the side and stacked them in a neat pile.

  A woman’s choking scream curdled through the corridor. It echoed in his battered ears, chilling him to the bone.

  Lilo.

  Adrenaline surged through his veins and he ran toward the source, taking the corridor corner so fast he nearly crashed into a group of people running in the same direction. When he ended in the open plan office, a crowd of workers had gathered around a desk. Griffin’s gaze flicked to the wall where the break room was, and then to the commotion in an effort to orientate himself. It was Lilo’s desk.

  “Somebody call the police,” came a male voice over the crowd.

  “On it,” someone else replied.

  Griffin locked onto the sense of greed in the room. He recognized a few signatures, but most of all, he zeroed in on Doppenger standing in close proximity to Lilo’s desk. Every protective urge in his body stormed to the surface, and he shot toward Lilo as though his life depended on it.

  “Out of my way,” Griffin barked as he pushed through. “Move.” He didn’t care who he shoved, because nearest to Lilo’s desk was that tall, grimy sensation of greed clawing his gut, and feeling it now for the third time, Griffin knew it was the same one he’d picked up emanating from the imposter this morning.

  Doppenger was the fake Greed.

  Griffin elbowed someone out of the way to find Lilo sitting at her desk, sobbing with Donald towering over her, a possessive hand on her shoulder.

  Griffin zeroed in on that connection and fire erupted behind his eyelids. The rest of his thoughts weren’t coherent because all he could see was the touch of that slimy man on his mate.

  Magnetic energy swelled in his blood, in the atmosphere, and Griffin’s awareness expanded in the room. Suddenly, he knew where each and every piece of metal alloy was. The bolts in the cabinets, the paperclips on the desk, the hard casing of the computer, and the heating vent in the ceiling. On a breath, his world became exponentially larger. He breathed hard, counting in his head until he slowly came back to his senses.

  Lilo was alive. She wasn’t hurt… she was upset over something in that box.

  Catching his approach, Doppenger swiveled his head in a smooth, unhurried motion to lock eyes. Something tangible came across that connection, a battle of wills, a challenge. Vitriolic thoughts collided behind Donald’s irises. There were secrets and turmoil and evil things lurking there, and all Griffin could think was that the sinner had his hand on Lilo, that he’d had his hands on her many times in the past. The notion violated the peace she’d previously gifted him.

  The metal heating grate in the ceiling fell on Doppenger’s head.

  “Damn it,” Doppenger exclaimed as he shielded himself, deflecting the grate to the side.

  Perhaps Griffin needed more training after all.

  “Lilo?” Griffin cut out, ignoring Donald’s cursing.

  She uncovered her eyes and looked up with two orbs of glistening desperation. “Griffin?”

  “I’m here,” he said.

  The words sounded easy, so natural, yet they fit between them like they’d always been there.

  Her face screwed up, and she launched out of her seat, away from Doppenger, and into his arms.

  “It’s so terrible. It’s his, I know it.”

  He glanced at the box and went cold. It was a severed ear. Someone she knew.

  “Shh.” He held her tightly, applying firm pressure. It always made him feel better, safe. He wanted to cocoon her and protect her from the world.

  Over her head, Griffin glared at Doppenger, wanting to tear the man into pieces and feed him to the rest of his deadly family. Impersonating one of them, murdering in cold blood, defaming their name. It had always been Donald Doppenger the Demanding, the greedy, writing those slanderous articles. He’d had a vendetta against the Deadly Seven for years, and now somehow, he’d taken it to the next level. Griffin just didn’t know why.

  Griffin wouldn’t be surprised if the severed ear had something to do with him and he’d orchestrated the entire thing. He probably got some sick pleasure in seeing Lilo in pain.

  Doppenger squinted at Griffin with disgust. “You two look awfully cozy for people who’ve just met.”

  “I don’t see how that’s relevant,” Griffin replied.

  “You knew each other from before. That’s how you got the job, isn’t it?”

  “I got the job because of my proven skill set, and it’s none of your business how long I’ve known Lilo,” he fired back. “This isn’t the time, nor place for such a conversation.”

  Lilo’s body shook in his arms as she gasped in shuddering breaths.

  “It’s his ear,” she sobbed, gingerly pointing at a box on her desk. “It’s my father’s.”

  The simple black glossy box looked like a gift. A red satin ribbon had secured the lid, but now lay in a discarded stream. Inside the box, sitting on white tissue paper stained with old blood was a jagged carved human ear. A single crystal animal hanging from it.

  “Hun, are you sure? How can you tell?” An older woman with blue hair asked.

  Lilo pulled back enough from Griffin so she could look at the blue-haired lady, but kept herself cocooned in his arms.

  “It’s the figurine. It used to be mine, but I threw it at my father when I left them. Bev, it’s his, I know it.”

  “Oy vey,” Bev replied under her breath. “Who would send that here?”

  Even though it pinched his healing wound, Griffin’s grip around Lilo tightened, as if he could keep her from falling apart with the strength of his arms.

  “There’s a note,” Griffin said, eyeing off the small hard square of card poking out from behind the tissue paper.

  “What’s it say?” someone asked.

  Increasingly aware of too many eyes watching, Griffin turned to the gawping co-workers. “Show’s over. Every one take a break,” he growled and made a shoo sign with his hand. “Go home early. We’ve got this.”

  Most of the workers reluctantly left, slowly filtering back to their desks or leaving the office completely. Griffin wished Doppenger had followed suit, but he hung around like a bad smell. Bev was also there, clutching what looked like a dumb-bell as though it were a security blanket.

  “Where’s Fred?” Griffin asked.

  “Gone home for the day,” Bev replied. “Shoul
d I call him back?”

  “No. I’ll sort it out.”

  “I can’t.” Lilo clutched Griffin and refused to look back at the box. He moved to collect the note, but Doppenger got there first.

  “If you want to see your father alive,” Doppenger read, “deliver the contents of his safe by seven Wednesday night. No police, or the next gift will be a head.”

  Under the instructions was an address. Somewhere in the industrial center in the South-Side.

  “This is my fault,” Lilo cried. “I should have tried to save them a long time ago, but I left. Instead I wanted nothing to do with them. If I had stayed and tried to make them see how bad their choices were, this wouldn’t be happening. I’m a coward. This is all my fault.”

  “Someone else’s greed is never your fault, Lilo.” Griffin flexed his grip on Lilo.

  “You should take the money to them, Lilo.” Doppenger pointed at the note. “It’s how these things work.”

  “No. You should leave this to the authorities,” Griffin replied. It would also mean Liza could intercept and stall the investigation while he went to the rendezvous as Greed. He’d have better luck rescuing Lilo’s father on his own. Without the police, without rules, and without Lilo there to see if things went sideways.

  Doppenger scoffed. “When do the police ever do anything on time?”

  “I have to do it.” Lilo pulled away from Griffin and took the note. “Besides, it says no police. I know I can do this. I can get what they need, then give it to them. That’s all they want. It should be simple.”

  “Dealing with criminals is never simple,” Griffin pointed out.

  “I’ll go with you, Lilo.” Doppenger lifted the lid on the black box and reset it to cover the gruesome sight. “I’m not afraid of a little ransom situation.”

  “I vote police,” Bev added.

  “No. I have to do this,” Lilo insisted. “It’s the best option.”

  “Lilo.” Griffin pulled Lilo a few meters from Doppenger to whisper, “It’s not safe.”

  “I have my cattle prod. I have my spy camera. I’m doing this, I can blow the whistle on them,” she replied, wiping her eyes. “The pen is mightier than the sword. Thank you for your concern, really, I-I can’t tell you how much it means to me. But I need to do this. I have to see it through.”