Fuck. He really hoped the oddness of the "burglary" didn't raise enough suspicion. Suspicion led to searches. If they happened quickly enough, searches would lead to interrogations of staff (one of which might remember him with the cart) and rifling through garbage. Rifling through garbage led to a body and just like that, Simon would find himself in jail.
Stop jumping to the worst conclusion. Fight the battles as they come, not before they appear. This was a common mantra of his. It helped in his line of work. It was natural to think of all the outcomes and start niggling at the worst of them. There were hundreds of ways to fail in his work, all waiting to jump out and get you caught. So you did your best, you focused on the problems as they came at you, and if you were thorough and lucky none of the worst-cases came to fruition.
"What do you want to do, love?" He nuzzled her, trying to break her out of the sobbing cycle.
"G-go home," she sniffled.
No. Even knowing it was the best decision he couldn't let her go. He was the worst kind of man. "Are you sure? Why don't you stay at my place. Don't let one bad experience sour you on this move."
"No," she shook her head. "I'm not ready for that."
It hurt more than it should have. Of course she wasn't ready to move in with him-- they'd been on a handful of dates and sleeping together for only a short while. She didn't know that for him, it felt as if they'd been together forever. That through all of his stalking (protecting, damn it, protecting!) he'd come to feel as if he knew her.
"No, sure. I don't mean move in, move in, I just mean stay with me while you look for homes. I have good locks; I'm in a great neighborhood. You'll be safe with me, I promise." Sometimes it sucks when everything he said to her was a lie that felt like ash in his mouth.
She shrugged out of his arms. "Maybe later, but for now I just want to be in familiar settings. I want my home."
He felt a little sweat forming on his brow. This was getting so convoluted, so tricky. The crux of it was, she wasn't wrong. She'd feel safer; she'd probably be safer...
Or would she? How long before Walter figured out Jack was missing? Walter didn't have a lot of men like him working for him-- training men like Simon was expensive and buying their service even more so-- but Walter also had the kind of money that allowed him to find someone to suit his needs whenever and wherever.
He'd send another person after Jess and if she was in Richmond, Simon would have a much harder time protecting her.
"Really, love, I don't think that's necessary. They didn't even take anything of yours. Come on, let's pack up your things and I'll take you to my place. We can stop and get some fresh flowers, if you want."
She shoved away from him then. "Why are you being so pushy about this? Just listen to me! I'm saying I'm going home! I don't want to stay with you, I am not ready for this city!"
With that she did start packing her things, pointedly ignoring him. He was sweating more now. He could feel her slipping through his palms. Frantically he tried to think of what he could say or do to make her stay--
His phone rang. Goddamnit, it was Walter. He had to take it.
"It's not a good time."
He somehow managed to feel the other man bristle through the phone. "You work for me, you little shit. Any time I need to talk to you is a good time."
Simon stepped into the hallway away from where Jessica could hear. "What do you need?"
"I need to know why you’re sleeping with that leg-spreading Farmer girl." There was ice in Walter's voice and it chilled Simon quickly. Now his fear of her leaving was replaced with a choking terror. Walter knew.
"How did you know about that?"
"You think I'm not also doing my own leg work? You think I trust you after the last time? Don't be a dumbass. I had someone follow her. I've heard the tapes. He thought he had Roger pegged cheating, but I know my sons' voices."
"So what of it?" Simon wasn't sure he sounded as calm and cool as he needed to with Walter.
"Are you fucking kidding me? What do you gain by fucking this girl? Do you care about her?"
"No, don't be silly," Simon cajoled. "This is part of the plan. Roger just started speaking with her while finding out I'm his brother. Every little bit of mind game is necessary if I'm going to ruin Roger completely. Last time I got caught because he and Dallas had no distractions. This is my fucking distraction. Now will you let me get back to work?"
"Hey!" His father exploded, forcing Simon to move the phone away from his ear. "You don't talk to me like that! There is," he calmed a bit, "something else I need you to do. I need you to meet with John Weinstein and Eric Baldur. They're a little pissed at me because we didn't stop Roger with that bill. Cut into their profits considerably. I need you to placate them. Let them know what's being handled and see if there is something we can offer to make it better in the meantime."
"Ok, smooth things over with Weinstein and Baldur. Anything else?" Simon hoped to God there wasn't, because his plate was already too full. "Yeah, you snarky son of a bitch. Don't fuck this up."
Walter hung up then, happy to have the last word. Simon dragged his hand through his hair, tugging hard at the roots. The pain helped give him a little clarity. There were too many small fires and he didn't know which to put out first.
The elevator opened and a bellhop emerged with an empty luggage cart. It might even be the same cart that had helped him remove Jack's body from earlier that day.
"Sorry," Simon started to cut in, "I don't think we'll be needing you."
The bellhop squirmed. "No offense, sir, but Miss Farmer said to ignore you."
Ouch. That really stung. She was pissed at him now, too. Pissed and vulnerable meant he wouldn't be able to stop her from going back to Richmond. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!
Simon went back into the room and saw his red-faced, crimson haired siren. She was practically blazing with anger. "I think you should leave," she hissed.
"Jess, please. I wasn't trying to be pushy. I just wanted to help you. It's just not as big a deal as you're making it out to be."
"Having my room broken into, my privacy violated, isn't a big deal?" She wasn't shouting, which was somehow worse.
Could he be screwing this up anymore? It was taking a huge amount of effort not to shout "I'm going to keep you safe, but if you leave you'll get killed!" Instead he was able to settle for, "Would you at least see Amanda while you're here? Talk it over with her?"
She bristled, which was understandable. "Simon, this isn't working." Her words a nail, pounded straight into his heart. "You're pushing too hard. I'm not ready for this kind of commitment."
"That isn't what I'm trying--"
She cut him off with a shake of her head. "I don't care. I've been taking care of myself since I was fourteen. I've raised a baby. I don't need your protection and I don't want your help, not if it is going to be overbearing like this."
Grabbing her purse, she nodded to the bellhop, who had been standing beet-faced behind them as they fought. That, of course, was another mistake. Now Simon was memorable, the guest who fought with the lady who'd been robbed. No good. He was doing worse than rookie mistakes-- it was almost like he was sabotaging himself.
They left and he was alone, standing like the asshole he was. He'd have to figure out a way to protect Jessica, but he had to assume she was safe enough while he started in on his next task-- trying to get enough for the Feds that he'd be exonerated.
~ ~ ~ ~
"I need a wire," he said over the phone.
"When?" Mike sounded gleeful. He should-- they were jumping into it, deep. This was where the proof would be and if it worked out, both Mike and Simon would leave winners. Based on Simon's recent luck, though, it working out did not feel promising.
It didn't help that Simon's mind was consumed with thoughts of Jessica. The curve of her hip under his hand. The little whimpers of pleasure she made. Her dark, peppery voice crying out as she came.
How easily she'd left him in the hotel.
How
could one woman hurt him so many times yet remain so perfect in his eyes? He'd always possessed the power and the confidence. He was the one who seduced. He was the one who controlled each and every facet of a situation or a relationship. He should be the one in fucking charge.
Yet she held all of the power. She didn't even know it. She had no idea he'd carve his beating heart out of his chest for her. He'd walk on hot coals. He'd rob every bank for her, he'd torture everyone on the earth, he'd kill for her (and he already had).
The hardest part, though, was that he wanted to be good for her. He wanted to stop his work. He didn't want to be under anyone's thumb for her. He wanted to try to, well, be a normal guy for her. Loving. Loyal. Protective.
She didn't know any of that and he didn't know how to tell her.
Now, it seemed, he might have lost the chance to, anyway.
Well, if he couldn't be with her, he could at least keep her safe and alive. With her in Richmond, the next best way to make that happen was to get Walter locked away as quickly as possible.
"Yo, Simon, are you still there?" Mike didn’t hide the plea in his voice. It was go time, and Mike was already tasting victory. Simon hadn't even started.
"Yeah, sorry. Meet me in the parking lot where we talked in an hour. Bring a mike and a wire.”
Chapter Eleven
Once agreed, Simon went to work researching Weinstein and Baldur. Both were major stockholders in American Oil. Both had stood to gain billions of dollars had the pipeline gone through. No wonder they were pissed. Neither man had a record, their families were clean, and all of their fortunes were entirely in oil, at least on paper. So no way to leverage anything from them in the short time that he had.
It was going to be a bullshit mission in that he was going to have to bullshit knowing more than he did. Fine.
Of course, he'd also need to start working on Roger. While he'd warned his brother--unless he started appearing to be sabotaging Roger's pristine record, Walter was going to be suspicious. He'd also need something concrete to give to Weinstein and Baldur. It was proof, not promises, that won over men like them.
He'd tried the money laundering route. That failure no longer pissed him off. He'd profited from it by making the off shore accounts routed back to him. And without it failing he'd never have known who his father was, though it could be argued that ignorance had been bliss in that case.
Without that failure, Jessica may never have come back into his life.
He might be able to threaten the sexual scandal. Walter could tell it was Simon on the tape, but would other people? The media was quick to accuse in those situations. That, though, was a route he quickly dismissed. Because Roger might come out clean, but Jessica would be thrown under the bus. He would never, never let her into the spotlight so she could be slandered.
The only thing he could think of was bribery. The timing would have to be exact.
He called Dallas. His brother sounded less-than-thrilled when he realized who it was.
"What do you want?"
"I am going to put a very, very large sum of money into Roger's personal account. I'm going to want it back, eventually, or most of it. I need Mariel or Paige to spend it on some frivolous shit. They can buy themselves some plane tickets to Paris or something. Make ridiculous hotel reservations. I don't care what, just spend some of it."
"This doesn't sound good, Simon."
"It isn't. You're going to have to trust me that it will work out in the end. But I need all of this to happen in the next hour. Really it should have happened yesterday. And as soon as they've made some purchases, I need them to send me a screenshot of the bank account."
"You want Roger's bank information?"
"Yes."
Dallas hemmed and hawed on the other end. "And this is to help Roger. Not hurt him?"
Exasperated, Simon growled, "Yes. Can you fucking make it happen?"
It was funny, he realized, as Dallas unleashed a stream of invective at him over the phone-- he was more like this brother, perhaps, than Roger. Hell, if it wasn't for their fickle past, he thought Dallas and he could be friends, too. Two brothers he might actually enjoy, were it not for their father. Ain't that a joke?
But Dallas finally agreed. Simon received all the information he needed. One of his covers in life was his "business." A fake lobbying company, though he did actually use it from time to time. Not only had it been good for buying some property, it had also been great for things like this-- he'd "donate" money into politician's accounts. They'd spend it, sometimes without knowing, and then he'd be able to bring to light that they'd accepted money from an organization and spent it. Essentially, he framed people for taking bribes. What had always been more pleasing was the large number who willingly took the bribe, not realizing that later Simon was going to use it to take them down.
He transferred the money.
Simon had a woman who worked for him from time to time. Anastasia. She was young, beautiful, and a cut-throat business woman. Oh, and she happened to be a prostitute. In the past he’d used her to ply information from some less than savory politicians. Now, though, he sent her a text.
Be prepared to lie. Follow my cues if necessary.
When you paid your staff well, he’d found, you could get away with things like this. Anastasia was very well paid.
With that, it was time to roll. He called the offices of the oil tycoons. Dropping the name "Walter Taylor" did wonders for making an appointment. Turns out both men could be ready to meet that evening for dinner. Fantastic. All he needed to do was collect his wire and he'd be ready.
It was about time for that, anyway. Simon popped into his SUV to go meet Mike.
~ ~ ~ ~
He had two hours to burn until he met with Weinstein and Baldur. Oil tycoons, it turned out, kept party-boy hours. No worries, Simon could keep up with the best of them. Some part of him was thrilled to be back to work. It was only sliver-thin, though. The rest of him was anxious and it was ruining his vibe.
His heart was aching at Jessica's absence. His mind was thinking a hundred different thoughts, but they were all about her. His palms were sweaty and damn, he just wanted to know she was okay. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her that he had always loved her.
As if linked to him, his phone rang and her number was on the ID. "Jess, thank god you called."
"Well, I'm only calling under encouragement. Turns out you have a champion in your corner."
This stopped Simon. Who’d champion him? Amanda had never met him, so he could only assume a twenty-something adult would gleefully support love for love's sake, not for Simon's. Roger?
"Oh? Some days I find that hard to believe. Who is my prize fighter?"
She sighed. "I found it hard to believe after today, but believe it or not, your father is apparently your biggest fan."
Simon's blood froze to a trickle in his veins. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah, I got back to Richmond and ran into Walter. Small world, huh? I don't see any Taylors for years except for Roger on the news, and now it feels like all of you are back in my life."
Don't panic. "So you ran into Walter and he said to give me another chance. Sweet. I'll have to thank my dear old dad." He heard the edge creep into his voice and hoped it didn't carry over the phone.
"You should come join us for dinner," she remarked. "You can tell me more about how you found out he was your dad! I'm at his home now. I can't believe you grew up here! It is unbelievable!"
He suffocated on those words, the panic setting in. He'd picked up Jess, not even bothering with a paid killer. That might give Simon a little time-- Walter was far too smart to kill her himself. He'd wait until it couldn't be pinned on him.
"Ah, well. May I speak to my father?"
He heard the muffled noises of a phone passing hands before Walter picked up. "Hey there, kid. Coming to dinner?"
Simon remembered when Roger had socked Walter a good one. Just punched the shit out of their dad. He'd been shocked a
t the time, but now he was envious. God, how had he worked for this man for so long? "Sorry, Pops. I've got that job I'm doing for you."
"Oh, is that tonight? What a shame. Well, I bet you could make it out here for dessert--"
At this point he could hear Jessica beginning to politely protest, but Walter bulled over her. "So we'll see you then, right?"
"No can do. You know your friends--they like late nights. I’ll call you when I'm done, but we'll have to schedule it for another time."
Each man not saying what he truly wanted to say. A dance between them-- winner takes all. It didn't matter whether Walter held Jessica or not that night. He'd made his point. I know who you love and I can get rid of her at any time. Message received, loud and clear.
Jessica was on the phone again. "Sorry you can't make it. It's been nice to see Walter. To be able to talk a bit about what happened, you know? We’ve really cleared the air."
"That's still a big secret, Jess." Now Simon's voice was tight with worry. Walter did not want his lineage getting out. He still had too much to gain from his reputation as Governor before.
"Oh, I know. We talked about that, too. Hell, if I can keep Roger's kid a secret for most of my life, I can keep this one, too. Besides, who would I be to judge anyone's hidden pregnancy and baby?"
His heart squeezed. The Taylor family had been a shadow over her life. Roger had started by getting her pregnant at such a young age. Walter had bound her with his Non Disclosure Agreement, silencing her from revealing her daughter as Roger's son. Now Simon had infected her life and she didn't even know it. He'd brought on fear and danger just because he was blind with love. It made him sick.
The steady burn of rage was present, too. Good. He'd need it. Geez, was this what he'd been reduced to? Constant worry? Head scattered into a hundred different places? He'd lost his game, but Walter unknowingly had just given him the motivation to get it back.
Simon had been lost but now he was fucking found.
"I want to see you Jess, I just can't tonight."
The Corrupt Trilogy Page 27