FlakJacket

by Nichols, A

  “Then you’re a foolish woman.” He would be crazy to protect her. “Why are you being targeted?”

  “I don’t have to answer that question until you tell me you will allow me to hire you. You are my choice.” Then she changed the subject, her mind reaching deeply inside his, her eyes wandering over him, drinking him in, getting to know him; she knew with some certainty that he was the one. “You haven’t been sleeping; your head is filled with disturbing images from your past.”

  He narrowed his eyes. How did she know that? She was a beautiful woman now that he could see her up close, but she was of the civilized world in his Bedouin eyes. “Sleeping is sometimes an issue for me.”

  She continued to watch him, her aura surrounding him, pulling his feelings from him even as he tried to shut her out. “I sense a great loss in you. Somehow, you must find a way to let it go. If you save me, you will save yourself.” Her voice had fallen into a whisper of sorts, and her eyes finally fell from his. She turned and spoke over her shoulder. “I will come back tomorrow for your answer, and I will pay you well for your services. Maybe next time you will allow me to sit down.” She walked out, closing the door softly behind her. Her scent remained, filling his head with her captivating image; he was, after all, a man.

  Madison walked slowly down the hall of his office building as she thought to herself: he is the one who will father the child. There is no mistake.

  CHAPTER 2

  He slammed his fist on the desk; he was not taking this assignment. His business was thriving, and he didn’t need her patronage. But the question that entered his mind was why did someone want her out of the way. Why should he even care? Let someone else be her savior this time.

  He marched out of his office and spoke sharply to his secretary. “Why did you allow that woman in my office?”

  “She said you were expecting her, sir. I’m sorry. I should have checked with you.” She looked down. “Her name is on your appointment list,” and she turned it to him so he could see. Damn. It was written there. The question was: how?

  “Get me all the information you can find on her. I want it before I leave for the day. And assign John to shadow her today. I want to know where she goes and how long she stays there. Tell him to keep in touch with me.”

  “Yes, sir.” Jordan turned back into his office and picked up his emails. There was one that caught his eye. Beware of the redheaded one. He put a trace on it, but it came up empty. She was obviously being followed, her trip to him duly noted. Now that put a different light on the threats she was receiving. He did not like to be told what to do—by anyone.

  Jordan pulled up a news scan for the last three years for one Madison Kelly. Article after article flooded his screen. She was a woman with many faces, passionate about her causes and virulent when she felt they were belittled or shunned. She had recently spoken before the United Nations General Assembly, making an impassioned plea to the body to care for the refugees from many of the war-torn countries in the desert areas.

  She had been beaten when she was in her teens in a violent rally. He could see what a threat she could become to powerful alliances both here in the U.S. and abroad; wherever she went, the press followed. The articles indicated that there had been several attempts on her life, but finding out the name of the organization or person who had marked this woman as a target would take time, and keeping her safe until that perpetrator was found would soak up even more resources. There were hundreds of pictures of her with children, small babies in her arms, and stories of miraculous healings especially in the desert of Jordan.

  If he did this, he would have to be the point man. He couldn’t ask any of his colleagues to do it. He pushed back in his chair, and he happened to glance at the trashcan.

  His shirt was missing. He would have seen her take it out if she had. What the Fuck?

  There was a knock at his office door, and it pushed open once again. “Hey, man. Are you ready for our business lunch? I think I have all the necessary information to propose a good package of surveillance and cyber security for our client.” His business associate paused as he saw Jordan’s lack of interest. “What’s happening in your world, boss?”

  Jordan looked up. “I’m just contemplating another possible client, but I’m concerned about it.”

  “Well, put it on the back burner. Mr. Martin won’t wait, you know.” Jordan nodded, and crossed the room. He would have to focus.

  “Yes, I do. Let’s go. I’ve reviewed the material, and you’ve done a good job. We may need to hire a few more people in the computer area, but we’ll see.” The two men walked out of the office together.

  Madison sat in the corner bistro. There had been someone following her; she sensed a presence, so she was sticking to public venues for the time being. If Jordan Lassiter chose not to help her, she could be forced to give up many of her activities, but she wouldn’t stop; they could not make her stop. She reached for her bag that now held an ink stained white shirt; it smelled of his cologne. An FBI man approached her; she knew him from his previous assignments with her.

  “Miss Kelly. We’ve been watching you; you have a tail.”

  “I know. He’s made no attempt to come near me though.”

  “You should have called.” She looked up at him and smiled impishly.

  “You should have told me you were going to be following me today, and then I wouldn’t have worried quite so much. Have you identified him?”

  “No identity yet—he’s a U.S. citizen of Jordanian descent. He held out a picture. Do you recognize him?”

  She looked at him carefully. “No.”

  “Let me escort you to your hotel for the night.” Madison thought about his offer; she had achieved all she had set out to do that day. Maybe it would be a good thing.

  “All right.” The two moved out of the bistro together; the man who had followed them watched the two of them leave, as well as a third man. He notified Jordan that the FBI was involved.

  Jordan had felt antsy all evening unable to put his finger on what it was that could upset his well-ordered world. His business deal had been accepted; another client was on his list. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, hoping to calm his unease, but it remained. He would see the white witch tomorrow, and he had to give her an answer.

  His phone chimed. “Lassiter.”

  “Sir. The woman you told me to follow is getting a visitor. He’s going to the elevator now. I heard him ask the concierge for her room number.”

  “Follow him. I’m on my way. Under no circumstance allow him enter her room.” It was what he needed—action. He slipped carefully out of his house and into his car. It took him only ten minutes to arrive at her hotel. He moved steadily towards the back of the reception area, taking the stairs rather than the elevator. His phone vibrated with the room number. A man was at Madison’s door, attempting to hack the card swipe with a dry erase mechanism. Jordan and his man walked up the hall together, causing the man to turn to watch them pass. That was all it took. Jordan took him down, pulling the device from his hand and pushing hard on his windpipe. The two of them then moved him down the hall and into a storage closet.

  Jordan pushed him inside and closed the door behind them. His accomplice flicked on the lights and checked the man’s pockets for weapons; he removed a gun from his pocket. Then Jordan let him go.

  “Why are you following Miss Kelly?” The man was struggling to get air into his lungs, but he recognized Jordan. “You know me.” The man said nothing. “I’m about to turn you over to the police for attempting to break into a hotel room.”

  “Why are you involved with this woman?” The man angrily challenged Jordan. “She must be the witch everyone says she is if she has captured your attention.”

  “I’m still waiting for your answer.”

  “You must know that this woman has a contract on her; she is a threat to several important groups; the price is high.”

  “And what were you to do, kill her?”

&nbs
p; “No. I was to take her alive and move her to an airport.”

  “To go where?”

  “That, I wasn’t told. I was to be met there.”

  “Is this because of politics, because of her father’s ambassadorship?”

  “No. It is she that each one seeks; her aura and influence are threatening; her voice and actions carry far. She is a threat to the established order, and she is a seer of some renown. Everyone fears her; you should as well, Jordan.”

  “Get the word out that she is under my protection, and I will deal harshly with those who would hurt her in any way. You cross her, you cross me.”

  The man looked surprised, but interested. “She is your woman?” Jordan thought about that implication.

  But there was no hesitation. “Yes.”

  “You will drive her price even higher. I don’t think you’ll be able to stop those who want her.”

  “We’ll have to see about that. Get out now, and don’t come back.”

  The man left the storage room quickly, and Jordan’s second followed him just to make sure that he left the hotel grounds. Jordan closed the storage room door quietly only to find Madison in the hallway outside her door, leaning against the wall, watching him. “I sensed that you were near, and I probably have to thank you again for something. I know you won’t tell me what, but thank you.”

  His eyes noted her semi-dressed state, and he couldn’t help his sharp response. “Get back inside your room. If you’re going to wander about the halls, you need to be dressed; you’re only inviting trouble.”

  She glanced down at her camisole top and lounge pants, surprise in her eyes. “You’re the only one out here, and I’m completely covered.””

  He muttered in an angry voice, “Barely covered.” She glanced down at her bare arms, but the camisole top was demure. She didn’t wear a bra with it, but she was getting ready to go to sleep. “Do you ever do as you’re told?” Once again, her mere presence had caused him to be uneasy. “Go back to your room.”

  Madison pushed away from the wall. “I have your shirt for you, and she motioned for him to come in.”

  Shit. He took a deep breath, went down the hall and turned into her room, closing the door behind him.

  CHAPTER 3

  His white shirt hung neatly on a hanger; the ink stain was gone. He shook his head as he looked at it. How? His cleaning service couldn’t do that. He fell back on his anger and concern for her. “You need to be more careful. Miss Kelly. I don’t like what I see in this hotel; there are too few safeguards.”

  She eyed him, contemplating his pinched, facial expression. “You’re going to protect me, aren’t you? It’s screaming from you, and you’re not very happy about it.” His eyebrows went up. “You yourself called me a witch.” She hesitated and then went on as she approached him with the shirt. “Well, I am one. Deal with it.” This was said tongue in cheek, remembering that he had made the same comment to her when they were by the river—deal with it.

  Jordan chewed on his bottom lip. He didn’t want her in this nondescript hotel room, and just because he had scared off one man didn’t mean there weren’t others out there. He straightened his shoulders and made an executive decision. “Pack your stuff; you’re coming with me. It will take too much manpower to make sure you are safe here.”

  “What?” She was surprised. “But I’m not your problem.”

  His lips thinned to a fine line. “You are now. You’re paying me to think for you, so no argument. Pack your things.” She still hesitated.

  “For how long?”

  “A week or two until I get things set up—safeguards.”

  “And I’ll be staying with you?”

  “Yes, I have a large house; I’ll see that you are comfortable.” And out of my way, he thought. I will need a detailed itinerary from you for each day in the next week. Someone will be with you at all times. I also need the names of anyone you suspect of harboring ill will against you. I need that yesterday.”

  “Ah.” The temptation of her undressed body caused another kind of visceral reaction in him that he hadn’t felt for some time. He shut the feeling down and closed his eyes. He heard the bedroom door click shut as she went to get dressed. Her scent remained behind to tease him. Within minutes they were moving out of the hotel and into his car. She climbed in before he could help her, throwing her backpack into the back, but that didn’t surprise him. She was Miss Independence. She held her laptop in her arms. He climbed in.

  “Nice wheels.” Her eyes meandered over the leather seats, “but this is not yours.” How did she know? It was a rental he was using while his own car was being serviced. He drove across town and pulled into a gated community. His house sat on the top of the hill overlooking the city. Turning the engine off, he twisted in his seat to see her.

  “We need to have some ground rules, Miss Kelly; I want no misunderstanding between us.” She waited. “I will protect you, but I need to know much more than you have told me. There is something else going on here, and you know what it is. If it compromises me in any way, I will withdraw from our contract. Is that understood?”

  “Perfectly. But we don’t have a contract right now, do we?”

  “That will change as soon as we get into my office.

  He got out of the car, walked around and opened her door. This time she waited. “You have a beautiful home,” she said. “What do I call you—Mr. Lassiter?

  “Jordan will do for now.”

  He walked her up the steps to the veranda porch, punched in a security code and unlocked the door. “Come in.”

  She followed him into a vestibule with vivid paintings of the desert on the walls. A circular staircase wound towards the heavens of the upstairs. To her right was a dining area and a gourmet kitchen with a serving bar and a hallway with doors. To her left, she found a great room with a wood-burning fireplace and overstuffed furniture; a wide-screen TV hung on the wall. It was clearly a man’s domain with dark colors and few personal touches.

  “There are three bedrooms upstairs, each with its own bath. I suggest you choose one for yourself.”

  “Where do you sleep?”

  “At the end of this hall. I have a private suite.”

  “I see.”

  “My office is this way.” He led her towards one of the first doors. She could sense him in the room as soon as she neared it; his presence was everywhere. He motioned for her to sit down in the leather chair, and he sat behind the desk, pulling out a contract from it. “This is the usual contract for my company.”

  She took it and looked over it, reading the fine print. “I will require more of you than is set forth in this contract. I will be traveling in the next months; I have speeches planned in several locations out of the country, and that is not covered here. In addition, I am giving a three-day seminar at Harvard beginning in seven months. I will need to stay near the campus. Perhaps you had best get my entire itinerary before you finalize the contract.”

  He nodded. “That seems fair. Do it now.”

  “Now? It’s after twelve.”

  He nodded. “Now. You have nowhere else to be.” Her eyes narrowed on him. He was intentionally pushing his control, reminding her that she was to answer to him. Her lips cracked in a half smile. Oh yes—Under him. Damn. It would have to be him, and she swallowed at the thought. He caught the fleeting smile on her face and wondered what had caused it. She rose gracefully from the chair and walked to the door.

  His voice snapped: “Where in the hell do you think you are going?”

  “To get my laptop to give you my schedule, and to take my things upstairs. Where did you think I was going?”

  He shook his head. “Get it then.” They could fight for control, she thought. He turned to pour himself a drink; he had a distinct feeling that he would be drinking a great deal in the next couple of weeks.

  Her soft voice floated over her shoulder as she walked through the door. “You don’t need that drink.” Then she went into the vestibule t
o get her bag and her laptop. He looked at the drink, swirled the alcohol in it and put it down. She was right. He was turning to alcohol all too often these days. He loosened his tie. What had ever possessed him to ask her to stay here? He was out of his mind.

  Madison walked slowly up the stairs and took the first bedroom she came to. It was neutral in color, a beautiful space with patio doors leading out onto a deck. She pushed them open to see the view. She had placed her backpack on the bed; she would unpack before she slept. She walked into a well-appointed bathroom, a soft grey its primary color. The house was so...him.

  She wondered what his bedroom looked like, and she knew that she would find out and soon; he didn’t know it yet, but he was destined to be an integral part of her life. He had been chosen for her, her future wrapped in his, and they would both climb or fall together; but there were no guarantees of permanence. She would take a chance in giving herself to him and hope that he had the courage to be with her in the future. If not, she would be required to do it alone. Madison had noted the pictures of a smiling dark-haired woman and a small child on his desk. Was that his dead wife and lost child? There was a hole in his heart; this, she knew.

  The hairs on the back of her neck went up, as she sensed him standing in the doorway to her room; she didn’t turn around. “Was I too long in coming to you?”

  “I didn’t know where you were. It is now my responsibility to know where you are every second of the day until the threat to you is eliminated. Is this the room you are going to choose?”

  “Yes. It’s lovely.” She opened her computer case and pulled out her laptop. He gave her the passwords and router information. She placed the information into her computer and opened it up to her week’s schedule. “Do you have a printer?”

  “In my office.” She hit send. He glanced over her shoulder at her screen. Shit. So many activities—the woman was over-scheduled; he might have trouble keeping up with her protection. He was not a conversationalist. “Do you want something to eat before you go to bed?”