by Liv Morris
“Fine,” Baker says, spitting out the word, and then begins interview.
“Your bodyguard, Jordan Hayes, briefed us on the morning’s events, but we need to confirm everything firsthand with you to close our case. I’ll ask the questions. Most of them are a simple yes or no. Pretty easy.”
I glance at Kathryn, who nods at me, and then back at the detectives. “We’re ready.” I clasp her hand and weave our fingers together as she gives me a reassuring smile.
Baker dips his eyes to focus on the notepad he’s holding. “So you and Dr. Delcour were exiting The Pierre together with your bodyguard, correct?”
“Yes,” I reply. Ken advised us to say as little as possible, and I’m following his suggestion.
“Mr. Hayes mentioned you were heading to the office alone.” I tighten my grasp on Kathryn’s hand.
“That’s correct.”
“Dr. Delcour, where were you heading at the time of the shooting?” Kathryn seems as steady as a rock.
“To my apartment a few blocks away.” Baker writes something down on his notepad.
“What time did you wake up?” Baker asks.
Really? What kind a silly question is this?
“I don’t remember the exact time.” Kathryn attempts an answers and turns toward me. “Do you, Adam?”
“Around eight.” I’m ready to move to the next question—one with more depth.
But the mundane questions continue as the interview progresses. My nerves are frayed as is my impatience with these men. Until finally we get to the gritty part.
“So what were you doing when you first saw Simon Edwards, Mr. Kingsley?”
This answer will take more than a few words. “I was kissing Kathryn—excuse me, Dr. Delcour—good-bye when Simon jerked her away from me. It took me a few seconds to figure out it was him. He had bleached his hair and appeared crazed. He held the gun to Kathryn’s head while he gripped her in front of him, using her to shield his body.”
“He was talking the entire time he was holding me,” Kathryn adds.
Baker nods at Kathryn and says, “What did he say? Did he tell you the reason he wanted to shoot you?” Asking Kathryn about the motive pisses me off; these questions should be directed at me. I’ll be damned if she’s going to be the one talking about his ex-fiancée and me. I’ve had enough of this simple, make-no-progress questioning. Also I don’t really care to rehash the fucking motive as I know it’s been established. I give Ken a warning look, letting him know I’m going rogue. I’m finishing this interview.
I butt in before Kathryn can answer. “Here’s the rundown of what occurred: Simon grabbed Kathryn. He held a gun to her head as he threatened me. When I saw a police cruiser pull up to the sidewalk, Simon looked away for a split second and I ran at him, freeing Kathryn.” Ken nods in approval; he seems to have had enough of this interview, too.
“We fought. Simon fired a round during the struggle. Luckily the bullet only grazed my side, but I fell to the ground from the shock and initial pain. Simon then pointed the gun at my head.” I swallow, the memory still so vivid. “But Hayes shot and killed him.”
I take a breath as Baker scribbles down my statement. I can’t think of anything more that needs to be said. While I watch his pen fly over the paper, I can’t help but get lost in my thoughts of the event—Simon holding the gun to Kathryn’s head. The vision feels so real, it’s like I’m seeing it happen all over again right in front of me.
But this time it’s different. Simon’s hateful eyes pierce me while he says, “Bang, bang. She’s dead.” I look toward Kathryn and hear the pop of gunfire before she falls like a ragdoll at his feet. I can even smell a hint of sulfur from the fired shot.
I nearly jump out of my skin as the vision disappears. I turn quickly to see Kathryn sitting next to me... alive, her brows knitted in concern as she searches my face. I realize I’m squeezing her hand painfully tight and mine is dripping with sweat. I’m relieved that the sick scene my mind just conjured up wasn’t real. I shake my head to clear any remaining thoughts of Simon and concentrate on Baker, but I can’t find the right focus. I decide this interview needs to conclude, since we’ve covered the important details. I take a deep breath as I rise from the couch.
“I believe we’re done here. If you have any more questions for either of us, you can contact Mr. MacDonald. If you’ll excuse us.” I turn and face my attorney. “Ken, can you see them to the door, please?”
Ken nods while Baker and Simpson stare at me with contempt in their eyes. Kathryn stands up and moves to my good side. I take her hand in mine, and we exit the room. With no fanfare or time for them to protest, we’re free of Baker and Simpson.
“What’s wrong, Adam?” Kathryn looks up at me, worried. “You looked like you saw a ghost a minute ago. Were you thinking about the shooting?”
I can’t fool a doctor of psychology; Kathryn was well-trained and intuitive.
“Something like that,” I say, not letting on too much. My thoughts of Simon are nothing for her to worry about, so I change the subject. “And my stitches are bothering me.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She doesn’t drop the subject even though I’m sure she knows I want to.
“I’m sure. I need to get some more pain meds, though. I think my body is protesting all the fun you had earlier.” I wink and hope I’ve put this new line of questioning to an end.
A wicked grin spread over Kathryn’s face. “I may have worked you over a little too much. I did pocket those coins, by the way.” She winks and laughs teasingly.
“Thief.” I tease back. “And believe me, beautiful... any pain is damn worth it. I just need my meds.”
“I’ll get you a drink and ask Rosa to make you something to eat. Those pills aren’t good on an empty stomach. Be right back.” I kiss her quickly in thanks and head to the bedroom. I sit on my bed and pop a Percocet from the bottle on my nightstand.
Determined to put that ugly vision of Kathryn dead behind me, I dig my phone out of my pocket and check emails on it while I wait for her. Everyone responded to my earlier email requesting a strategy meeting. One email catches my eye.
Meg, my communications director, wants to schedule a press conference Monday morning inside the lobby of Kings Capital's building. She believes a “hey, I’m still kicking and Kings Capital is fine” appearance from me is needed to suppress any Wall Street rumors of my demise. I agree with the request and tell her to arrange the one-ring circus for eight thirty sharp.
While I’m finishing up my email, Kathryn comes in, carrying a tray. As she nears me, I see what looks like chocolate cookies and two tall glasses of milk.
“Ah, more comfort food from Rosa. She knows what I love. I’m gonna get soft if I keep eating like this without working out.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Kathryn sets the tray on the bed, runs a hand over my bicep, and gives it a little squeeze. “Hard as a rock.”
“For now. Let’s take the cookies to the media room. We can watch a movie and get our minds off things.”
“Okay. But no guns or bombs or action of any kind. Maybe a chick flick?” she says with a bit of lightness in her voice and a twirl of her fingers in my hair.
After this morning, I say something I thought I’d never utter in my life.
“Okay, I’ll let you decide.” Her face brightens up, and I wonder—who the hell am I? She’s got me wrapped around her finger, and my dirty mind drifts to earlier in my bed. Kathryn’s hand wrapped around me as she sucked my cock. I’m hard all over again. Well, a sappy romance should take care of that really quick.
Chapter 6
“I love that movie,” Kathryn says, wiping what she's promised are happy tears from her eyes. I remove a few more from her cheeks with my fingers.
“Come here.” She folds herself into my side, the good one, and gently leans her head on my chest.
“Is this okay?” She looks up at me with her shining blue eyes.
“You’re fine. I think Rosa
baked some magic in those cookies. I’ve felt better since I ate them.” I haven’t had any more creepy visions of Simon, either. A thought I keep to myself.
“Chocolate is the answer to the world’s problems,” she says very seriously. “Really.”
“If you say so, beautiful.” I stroke her silky hair as she leans into me. “Well, I’ve survived P.S. I Love You... barely.” She glances up at me with her brows pressed together; pretty sure she’s offended by my remark.
“What do you mean by ‘barely’?” she asks before her lips form a beautiful red pout.
I wink to let her know I was teasing. “It wasn’t horrible. The acting was pretty good, actually.”
Maybe it’s just me, but I had the whole plot figured out after the first few minutes. But ten minutes into the movie, I checked out completely and ran over everything I have to do at the office tomorrow, where I’ll be likely putting out fires all day.
The theme of the movie did stick with me: Meeting the right person and knowing there was something special there, an instant connection.
I could relate to this part because there seems to be the same kind of crazy chemistry floating between Kathryn and me. It reminds me of standing under those large electrical power lines. The ones that make that buzzing sound as high-voltage currents flow through them. You can feel the electricity humming in the air. That is Kathryn and me.
“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t too bad for a chick flick.”
“Not too bad?” She laughs, but more with me than at me. “I guess you really weren’t the target audience anyway.”
“I would have to agree. I can check 'Watching a chick flick' off the old bucket list.”
“Funny.” She moves to face me as we sit on the leather sectional in the media room. “Name one thing you’d like to do on your bucket list. I can’t imagine a billionaire having too many things left on it.”
“You’d be surprised. I’ve been focused on building Kings, but I’ve done a lot of traveling. Mainly for business with a few side trips here and there. There is one thing, though. I’ve never thought of it as a bucket list item, but I need to make it happen.” I pause and look away, not sure I should share what is on my mind.
“What is it, Adam?” Her tone is quiet. The mood between us has become serious.
“I’ve never gone back to my mother’s grave. The day I buried her was the only time. The thought of going back and facing what I did the day she took her life was too much.” I bring my head up and see Kathryn's eyes filling with tears again. She knows what happened and understands the guilt I hold inside for not getting to my mother before she committed suicide.
“Her death isn’t your fault. What she did was her decision,” Kathryn says, Her voice, soft and caring, comforts me.
“I will never forgive myself for going off and fucking some flight attendant instead of going straight to see her. But I have to face the loss, to move on with my life. You helped me last week. Everything I buried with her, all the feelings, came out of me like an explosion.”
Kathryn sits up on her knees next to me, pushes my hair aside, and kisses my forehead. “Sweet, sweet man. It’s time you quit blaming yourself.”
Her words are healing and help to soothe the ache in my heart. I don’t know if the pain from my mother’s death will ever go away, but I can face it now. That mind-blowing night of tantric sex forced me to open up and release some of the pain. No more stuffing it away. This woman and her crazy Tantra helped me. And dammit, I think I’m falling head over fucking heels in love with her.
“I think it’s time I faced it and visited her grave.”
“I’ll go with you, if you’d like? This is the kind of closure you need to move on with your life. I have to believe she would’ve wanted it that way. The woman I saw in that photo loved you dearly.”
“She did. I never doubted her love for me. Ever.” I lean my head back and let the feelings I’ve suppressed fill me. I take a deep breath and raise my head up to face Kathryn. I can’t help but feel anxious to actually set a date to visit my mom, but it’s time. “I think you’re right. I need to go, and with your support, I’ll make it.”
“Of course you will. You’re Adam Kingsley, right?”
“Damn right.” I bring her hands to my lips. She leans into me, and I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the exotic and feminine scent of her perfume. “Thanks, Kathryn.”
“I need to tell you something, too. I was waiting for the right time, and now feels right.” She sits back on the couch, placing her hands in her lap. “I got a call from Ollie this morning. Apparently he saw a news clip of the shooting on TV and it briefly mentioned my name. He freaked out and wanted to know the details. I didn’t know what to tell him, really, but I had to be honest.”
“So you told him we were together?”
“I did. But he doesn’t know that you two are half-brothers.” Kathryn searches my face, as if gauging my reaction. “I hope you’re okay with it, but he’s my oldest and dearest friend. I just couldn’t go along with the press reports and lie. He’ll keep it quiet. But…”
“But what?” I have a feeling I know what’s next. Ollie is likely questioning her on why she’s with a man like me.
“He isn’t too thrilled I’m with you. You know he’s in the same type of software industry as you are. Although he admires you professionally, he wants me to be careful. Ollie’s just worried.”
“As is everyone else in your life.” I shake my head. Maurice at the restaurant, her friends at the fundraiser, and Ollie have all planted seeds of doubt about her being with me. “I can’t say I blame them. Once the details from the police report come out, my reputation as a male slut will be worse.”
“ ‘Male slut’?” Kathryn laughs.
“Yeah, it’s Tom and Patrick’s nickname for me. Make light of it now because it’s just going to get worse.” Hopefully I can protect her from the scrutiny of the vultures in the press. “Simon’s motive for trying to kill me will feed the media. Sex mixed with a crime. Put a love triangle spin on it and it’s the lead story.”
“I guess so.” A grimace crosses her face and I hate that I put a frown there, too.
“I’ll do everything within my power to keep you from having to deal with any negative fallout. I’m hoping to curb the press on Monday morning by holding a news conference.”
“I hate seeing all the lies affecting you and your company. I hope it goes well, Adam. After all, you’re a victim in this whole ordeal, too.” I appreciate her sympathy, but seeing myself as a victim is a stretch. Not that I deserved what happened, but I played my part in the whole fucked-up mess. There’s no denying it.
“I would like to meet Ollie. If you think it’s a good idea, I want him to know we’re half-brothers. What do you think?” I swear my palms sweat at the thought of how Ollie will take that revelation. Fuck, how I hate sweat.
“I want you to meet him, too. He called me this morning before he flew back to San Francisco. He said he’s flying back here next week for business. I think we should all go out for dinner. I’d like for him to get to know you and put all those male slut rumors he’s heard about you to rest.” Kathryn winks. I have to agree, because I want those rumors dead and buried, too.
“If you’re okay to be seen with me in public and ready for reporters to hound you…” Before I can finish my thought, I have a brilliant idea. Goliath. He can be her bodyguard. I believe Goliath may be working for me a bit longer, after all.
“Of course I’m okay with being seen with you in public. Funny how everyone is concerned about us being together—except my mother. She’s thrilled. When we talked this morning, I gave her a rundown of the last few days. I swear she was giddy. She wanted me to wish you a speedy recover, by the way.”
“I have a soft spot for your mother. Always have. She’s one hell of a lady and you’re very much your mother’s daughter, beautiful.” She brings her lips to mine for a quick kiss of thanks.
“Her birthday is next week. How abou
t instead of dinner with just Ollie and us, we all go and celebrate her birthday together?” Kathryn claps her hands, barely able to contain her excitement. “It’s perfect. She will be your ally and help win Ollie over. Seriously, I can’t think of a better plan. Where should we go?”
I think for a moment before the ideal place comes to mind. “The Core Club. I just joined there a few months ago.” The Core Club is an elite, members’ only club on Fifty-Fifth Street. Honestly, I was surprised they let me walk through their doors as a member since I’m the epitome of the nouveau riche bad boy. I suppose money and power have their perks and help cover up any misgivings.
“You belong there?” I think Kathryn’s even more surprised than I am. “Not your typical meet, greet, and ‘take a gal for a ride in the limo’ establishment.”
“No, it’s not.” I give Kathryn a timid smirk in hopes that I’m hearing a twinge of jealousy in her voice and not disgust with the player extraordinaire she once considered me. I push away the latter thought. “I don’t go there often. I feel out of place. But the opportunity for me to be sponsored as a member came up unexpectedly, and I couldn’t refuse.”
“Why do you feel out of place? I’ve never been there, so I have no idea what it’s like, but I’ve heard it’s very exclusive.”
“It is very exclusive, but it’s more a retreat from the gritty life of New York. I’ve held business meetings there when I’ve needed to, but it’s not really the hot spot for a single man. Mostly I try to impress clients or potential investors, but going there by myself makes me feel strange.” I have difficultly describing what exactly makes me uncomfortable; maybe it’s going there alone.
“Then next week we’ll go there together, and you’ll have a tableful of friends. Well, at least my mother and I will be, initially. Ollie’s friendship will come around. Believe me. He’s an only child and always wanted a brother or sister. Finding out he has a brother, even thirty-two years later, will make him happy.”
“I hope you’re right. I haven’t been around any relatives for ten years. Even as a child, it was only my mother, a cranky old uncle, and me. I refuse to count the few brief encounters with my father. Thorpe wasn’t family.” Kathryn flinches at the mention of his name. “I get the feeling you don’t care much for him, either.”