by April Wilson
Lia rules the ring by keeping Jake constantly on the defensive. He’s already tiring when Lia manages to trip him, sending him crashing to the floor. He just lays there, breathing heavily, while Lia dances circles around him, taunting him. He finally cries uncle, conceding the second round to Lia. Although, secretly, I think he let her win. Jake may be tough, but Lia’s still his little sister.
After helping Jake and Lia out of their gloves, Shane comes over to the sofa and steps in front of Jamie, nudging his brother’s black boot with his bare foot. “All right, hot shot. It’s your turn. Stop flirting and show Beth what you can do.”
Jamie shakes his head, grinning. “That’s all right, I’m good. Listening to Jake take a beating from his baby sister was enough fun for one night.”
But Shane doesn’t take no for an answer. He kicks Jamie’s boot, harder this time, jarring his brother’s leg. The dog jumps to his feet, startled. “On your feet, soldier. You and me. I wouldn’t want you to lose your edge.”
Jamie sighs. “Are you sure you want Beth to see this? Her estimation of you might take a dive when she sees you pleading like a baby for mercy, because I won’t let you up until you beg.”
Shane winks at me. “Those are pretty tough words coming from a blind guy.”
I gasp in shock, unable to believe Shane said that. I glare daggers at him. How could he say that to his own brother? But Shane smiles at me and shakes his head.
“Suit yourself,” Jamie says. “It’s your neck.”
Jamie rises from the sofa and instructs Gus to lie down. Then he walks to the ring, holding out his hand until he comes in contact with the ropes.
Lia comes to sit beside me, drenched in sweat and practically vibrating with excitement. She squeezes my hand. “This is going to be so good.”
“Are you kidding?” I hiss at her. “This is hardly a fair contest.”
“Just watch and learn, grasshopper.”
Jamie unlaces his boots and pulls them off, along with his socks. Then he bends down to climb through the ropes. Shane follows behind.
I shoot a quick glance at Lia. “Aren’t they going to use gloves?”
She shakes her head. “They’re not going to box. This will be more Krav Maga – close contact. Once Jamie gets a hand on Shane, Shane’s done. Watch.”
Jamie walks to the center of the ring and stands motionless, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. Shane walks in circles around his brother, as if examining him for a weak spot.
“This is ridiculous!” I hiss at Lia. “Jamie can’t possibly fight Shane.”
She raises her hand. “Shh. Watch.”
Shane stops at Jamie’s back. Suddenly, the room is quiet. Everyone holds their breath as Shane and Jamie stand there perfectly still.
Suddenly Shane explodes into motion, striking out lightning fast at Jamie. It happens so quickly, I can’t even track their movements, but suddenly Shane’s on his back, and Jamie’s kneeling on top of him, pinning him down with a knee to his chest. Jamie has his hands around Shane’s throat, his thumbs pressing hard into the sides of Shane’s neck. Neither man says a word until Shane finally slaps the floor with his palm, and Jamie jumps back, putting several feet between himself and his brother.
I’m shaking my head, still not sure what just happened. “What the hell?”
Lia’s grinning from ear to ear. “You know how they say a Navy SEAL can kill a man with his pinky? Well, it’s true. Whether he can see or not is irrelevant.”
Shane comes to his feet, rubbing his throat. Even from here I can see red marks on his neck. “Again,” he says, his voice faintly raspy.
“Christ, Shane,” Jamie says, shaking his head. He takes a few steps around the ring, feeling out with his right arm for the ropes.
“Maybe you just got lucky,” Shane says, taunting his younger brother.
Jamie smiles. “You’d like to think so, wouldn’t you?”
Jake walks up to the ring and pulls a switchblade out of his pocket. “Let’s raise the stakes, gentlemen.”
Jake tosses the knife to Shane, who catches it and flicks it open.
“Try not to hurt yourself, Shane,” Jamie says.
Shane walks lightly on bare feet, crossing the ring toward Jamie. “If I draw blood, you lose.”
Jamie shakes his head. “You are such a drama queen.”
But Shane ignores the taunt and lunges, aiming the knife at Jamie’s forearm.
I gasp. “My God, he’s really going to cut him!”
But before Lia can even shush me, Jamie turns to meet Shane’s attack, and after a flash of swift, sudden movement, Jamie has hold of Shane’s arm and has Shane’s wrist bent at an awkward angle. Jamie extracts the knife from Shane’s hand, flips it closed and sticks it in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Hey, that’s my knife!” Jake says.
“Too bad.” Jamie climbs out of the ring. “To the victor go the spoils.”
I glance at Lia, shaking my head in disbelief. She just grins at me. “Blind or not, Jamie knows his shit.”
Barking, Gus runs to his master and jumps up on Jamie’s legs.
Jamie gives the dog a hand signal, and Gus drops down on all fours. “Whose turn is it next?”
Chapter 27
Monday morning, Erin brings a copy of The Chicago Scoop to me at the check-out counter. She’s got the paper folded open to the lifestyle section, and there’s a huge picture of me standing at the check-out counter ringing up a customer.
I stare at the photo. “How did he get this picture?” I glance up at Sam. “You took the data card out of his camera.”
Sam peers over my shoulder at the newspaper article. “Fuck. He must have taken this with his phone. I didn’t think to confiscate his damn phone.”
I read the caption under the photo.
“Beth Jamison lucks out as Chicago millionaire playboy Shane McIntyre’s new arm candy. McIntyre gifted Jamison with Clancy’s Bookshop on N. Michigan Avenue as an engagement gift, just weeks after she was sexually assaulted by college student Andrew Morton at her place of work. Is this a guilty conscience at work? Sources indicate Jamison was assaulted in retaliation against McIntyre, after he assaulted the young college student at a hospital fundraising event earlier in the summer. Morton’s parents are reportedly contemplating pressing assault charges against McIntyre.”
My knees buckle, and Sam catches me as I stumble.
“Here, sit down,” he says, pulling a chair close. Erin takes over my register for me, her attention divided between ringing up customers and trying to read the article over my shoulder.
“I wasn’t sexually assaulted,” I say woodenly, staring at the caption printed in black and white. I go on to read the rest of the article, growing sicker by the moment. The reporter, Derek Sanderson, implies that Shane bought Clancy for me as some kind of bribe, to prevent me from pressing charges against him, although Sanderson never states what these charges might be.
Exasperated, I cover my face with my hands and concentrate on regulating my breathing.
Sam lays his hand on my shoulder. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute.” I look at the article and shake my head in disbelief as I continue to read.
Beth Jamison is one in a long line of beautiful romantic partners for the millionaire business owner who’s dated some of the most beautiful women in Chicago. But is Jamison, who is ten years younger than the business mogul, old enough and experienced enough to realize what she’s getting into with McIntyre? And how long will it be before McIntyre tires of monogamy and returns to his philandering ways?
I stare at the hateful article, shaking my head. Why would someone print this garbage?
* * *
I fold the newspaper and drop it in a trash can behind the service counter, out of sight, out of mind, and try in vain to forget about it. It’s impossible, of course. The article makes me sound like some kind of gold digger who’s in over her head. And it makes Shane sound like a womanizer, practi
cally accusing him of using his wealth and position to coerce and bribe people – namely me.
Erin doesn’t say anything, but she keeps giving me these sympathetic, soulful looks, and that’s not really helping. I can’t help wondering if Shane has seen the article yet, and more importantly, how he’s going to react. Oh, God, and then there’s Tyler to worry about. I have no idea how he’ll react if he sees it. He already doesn’t trust Shane.
Abruptly, Sam grabs my upper arm and leans close to whisper in my ear. “Come with me now!”
His voice is so clipped, so tense, I don’t even recognize it. He hauls me to my feet, and his grasp on my arm is bordering on painful. I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold.
“Now, Beth!” He steers me away from the check-out counter and marches me toward the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at him, surprised and slightly alarmed by the sudden change in his easy-going demeanor. I look back at Erin, who’s staring after us in confusion, flustered as she rings up a customer.
“Just move,” Sam says, practically pushing me up the steps.
Mack is waiting at the top to the stairs, his expression dark and calculating.
“What’s going on?” I say when we reach the upper floor.
Mack looks at Sam. “Take her to the bunker and lock up. I’ll watch the entrance and wait for Shane and Jake to arrive.”
“Shane?” I say, more confused than ever. “Why’s he – ”
But Sam walks me across the upper floor toward the hallway that leads to the administrative office. We pass right by the office and the employee lounge to an unmarked door that I’ve never paid any attention to. There’s an electronic keypad on the wall beside the door, and Sam enters a code, then presses a button. The door to the room unlocks with a loud snick, and Sam opens the door and shoves me inside.
For a moment, it’s pitch black in the room and I try to back out, but Sam’s in my way. My heart starts hammering in my chest, until Sam flips a light switch. I look around in surprise. It’s a control room of some sort, much like the one back at the Kenilworth estate, with a bank of computers and monitors and closed-circuit television viewing screens. There are probably ten different screens aimed at different areas of the store.
“What is this place?” I feel like I’ve just stepped into the Twilight Zone. I didn’t even know this room existed.
Sam ignores me as he punches a code into a keypad on the wall just inside the room, sealing us in.
“Have a seat,” he says, nodding at a sofa across the room. There’s a small seating area, with a sofa, a couple of armchairs, and a low table. Beside the seating area is a credenza with a single-serve coffee maker. “Make yourself comfortable.”
“Sam, what’s going on?”
I glance over at the bank of monitors and see one of the screens that’s focused on the front entrance to the bookstore. I recognize the two plain-clothed security guards standing near the doors, surreptitiously watching everyone coming into the store.
“Sam, I want to know what’s going on. Right now!”
Sam takes a seat at the control desk and glances back at me. “Howard Kline is on his way here. The surveillance team raised the alarm. Shane and Jake are both on their way. Shane instructed us to bring you here to the bunker and secure you.”
The blood drains from my face, leaving me cold. “Kline’s coming here?” My stomach drops, and I feel nauseous. “Are you sure?”
Sam nods. “The surveillance team reported him getting on a bus headed to this part of downtown. Shane thinks he might have seen the article about you in the Scoop, and if he did, he knows where you work now.”
The article. “Oh, my God.”
I join Sam at the control station and scan the monitors myself, watching the flow of customers in and out of the store. Suddenly, I see Shane storm inside, followed closely by Jake. Shane speaks to the undercover security guards monitoring the doors. Then, he and Jake head toward the stairs.
I lose them on the surveillance feed. “Where are they?”
Sam shakes his head as he quickly checks the other camera feeds. “I don’t see Jake, but there’s Shane on the stairs.”
I just happen to glance again at the feed pointed at the main entrance and notice Lia walking into the building, making a beeline for the stairs.
Sam’s hand goes to the communication device in his ear. He presses a button on the tiny insert and says, “She’s in the bunker, with me.” Then he looks at me. “That was Shane. He’s coming.”
I hear a buzzing sound and a click, and then the door opens. Shane walks in, and I’m so happy to see him, my knees go weak.
“Sit down, sweetheart,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the sofa.
The door opens again, and Lia walks in and secures the door behind her.
“Did you see Jake?” Shane asks her.
“He’s monitoring the stairs and the elevator.” Lia comes to me and drops down on the sofa beside me, nudging me with her elbow. “Well, you caused quite a commotion today, Princess, with your juicy newspaper interview!”
I shudder. “Did you read the story? It’s awful.”
Lia leans back on the sofa and props her boots on the coffee table. “Kline must have seen it, because he crawled out from under his rock this morning with an apparent hangover and hopped a bus downtown. He didn’t even bother to shave.”
Shane’s talking to Jake through their wireless communication devices. Finally, Shane relays the information he’s getting from his brother. “Kline’s ETA is six minutes. He’s off the bus and walking this way.”
I’m sick to my stomach, but at the same time, I feel morbidly compelled to catch a glimpse of the man who’s been haunting my nightmares for so long.
“I’m going down there,” Lia says, hopping to her feet. “No fair that Jake gets to have all the fun.”
Shane walks over to the bank of monitors, and I join him.
“Go sit down, honey,” Shane says. His eyes are glued to the monitors.
“No. I want to see him.”
Five minutes later, Howard Kline walks through the front doors of Clancy’s Bookshop, under the close scrutiny of the plain-clothed security at the entrance. I can’t believe his audacity. He’s actually here, polluting the air inside my happy place.
My skin crawls at the sight of him. I’ve seen his police mug shot from before, right after he was apprehended for kidnapping me. I’m struck by how much the man has aged in the past eighteen years. He’s in his mid-sixties now, but he looks like an old man – far, far older than his actual years. Prison must have taken its toll on him. That and the drugs and alcohol he’s been using steadily since he was paroled.
Dressed in dirty, ill-fitting clothes, Kline walks toward the sales counter. I catch a glimpse of Jake as he moves in behind Kline.
“What’s Jake doing?” I say.
“Nothing right now,” Shane says. “We want to see what Kline does. And Jake will try to determine if he’s armed.”
Kline walks out of range of the cameras at the entrance, but soon he appears on the monitor covering the check-out counter. He’s loitering around the sales counter, pretending to peruse a selection of reading glasses.
Acting casual, he scans the employees behind the counter, his gaze going from one to the next. I realize he’s looking for me. I’m not there, of course, but Erin is.
“Erin’s down there,” I say, watching her smile at a customer, completely oblivious to the fact there’s a dangerous ex-con standing not ten feet from her.
“Don’t worry,” Shane says. “She’s fine. We’ve got four people down there monitoring Kline.”
Then Kline moves on, again out of range of the surveillance camera.
Shane checks the other monitors for a sight of Kline. He runs the fingers of his free hand through his hair, and I smile at the familiar restless habit.
Shane touches the communication device in his ear. “Jake, can you tell if he’s armed? Stay on him. If he goes
for a gun, take him out. No hesitation. I don’t want any bystanders getting hurt.”
The thought of Kline down there with a concealed weapon scares me to death. There are scores of innocent people down there who have no idea that a monster is walking amongst them, possibly carrying a gun. “Shane, there are children down there.”
“I know, sweetheart. It’s okay. We have the situation under control.”
Shane tenses immediately and looks at Sam. “He’s heading upstairs. Which monitor – ”
“This one,” Sam says, indicating one of the screens. “This one covers the hallway leading to the administrative office and this bunker.”
Watching that monitor, we notice Mack standing near the entrance to the business hallway. We watch Kline walk right past the hallway to this office, right past Mack, seemingly paying him no mind. When I realize how close Kline is, I shudder.
Almost as if he can sense my agitation, Shane draws me close and brushes his lips against my temple. “He can’t get in here, sweetheart. The door and walls to this room are reinforced. They’re bullet proof.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” I say. “What about the people out there? They have no idea – ”
Shane shakes his head. “He’s looking for you. He’s not here to cause trouble if you’re not here. He won’t want to blow his chances of coming into contact with you here sooner or later.”
Kline walks around the store for another half-hour, presumably searching for me. When he comes up empty-handed, he heads out the door onto the sidewalk and walks away.
Shane pushes the mic button on his communication device. “Jake, stay with him until the surveillance team picks him back up again outside.”
Once the coast is clear, and the surveillance team reports back that they have Kline in their sights and that he has boarded the bus bound for his neighborhood, everyone stands down.
“Let’s go, sweetheart,” Shane says, grabbing my hand. “I’m taking you home. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.” Then he hits the mic button on his earpiece. “Jake, Lia, Mack, come back to the penthouse with us. We need to review security protocols at the bookstore.”