Save Me If You Can

by Jones, Christina C

  He had to see her again.

  He settled back into his seat in the limo and pulled out his phone, navigating to the number she’d plugged in. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine those delicate, beautiful fingers of hers wrapped around his dick, just before it disappeared between her velvety lips.

  Damn.

  He shifted in his seat.

  His wife hadn’t let him touch her in almost a year now, and Noelle… that bitch was crazy. He’d had to smack her around a bit because of her disrespectful mouth, and gave her a little extra “medicine” – and stuck around to make sure she took it – before the night he’d met TJ at dinner, and ended up meeting Sarai.

  Noelle had been insisting on being taken out, screaming about going with him to Dubai. Neither of those were happening, so a few smacks and a few pills shoved down her throat had basically guaranteed an easy goodbye.

  But damn her, and that body… and that face… and that mouth… and that… paradise between her legs. Could he have just gotten another woman? Sure, probably. But there was a lot to be said for dealing with a woman who knew exactly what he liked, and how to deliver on it.

  So he’d sent for her. And she’d played her role, but now he was sick of her again. Asking if he would keep his promise not to harm Naomi, as if he’d ever intended on keeping it in the first place. He wanted anyone and anything related to Wolfe dead and buried, so he wouldn’t have to be constantly looking out for revenge. Of course he’d sat back and waited, creating a false sense of security that the thief and her friends had fallen for, and played right into his hands.

  Damien, Noelle, Naomi, Kennedy, and as much as he hated to hurt Renata any further, Taylor had to go too. And hell… it wasn’t like Renata had any love left for him to lose anyway, since she’d ignored him when he tried to reach out. And to think… he’d considered sparing her.

  But, no. It was time to end this. He was beyond sick of playing this little game. Everything was already set in motion, and by the time he touched down in Dubai, the worst of his personal enemies would be eliminated, and if the boy played his cards right, he’d have Damien’s assistant by his side.

  It would be glorious.

  But that was later.

  For now, he was very interested in a little parting visit from Sarai. She’d played coy, like she was hard to get last time, but he had no doubt that she’d be more open this time. He’d invite her to the airfield, have her wait in the limo and ply her with champagne… and a little something else to loosen her up if necessary.

  He hit the call button, and raised the phone to his ear as the line rang. She picked up on the fourth ring, sounding a little breathless. Terry closed his eyes again, imagining her sounding like that as he pounded in and out of her.

  Soon.

  “Hey!” she said. “I’m surprised to hear from you… weren’t expecting you to call.”

  Terry chuckled. “Well I hope it’s a pleasant surprise. I’d like to see you.”

  She hesitated, and Terry held his breath. “Okay… when?”

  “Now?”

  “Now?” she repeated, sounding a little panicked. “I… I just got home, and I’m a mess, and—”

  “I’m sure you’re fine. But… I’m leaving the country, and I’ll be gone for a while. I wanted to see you before I left.”

  “Is that right?” She sounded more confident, eager now.

  Terry smiled. “Yes, that’s right. So… should I send my driver?”

  “No, I have my own. I’d rather meet you.”

  Got her.

  “Okay. Hang up. I’ll send you the directions.”

  &

  Nervous didn’t even begin to describe the way Harrison felt, but he couldn’t let it show. He’d gone way too far, waited way too long, and worked too damn hard for this chance to let it slip away. Not over something as stupid as nerves.

  Not now that he was in Terry King’s house.

  His thoughts went to Savi, and a deep ache rang in his chest. The chances that he would ever get back to her, ever have the opportunity to make her understand… they were low. But if he got back to her, he would finally be able to explain all of this. If she were willing to listen, after discovering he’d left without a goodbye, he’d be able to fully pour out the details of his past, and they could finally be together, without the fear, without the shadows, without the burning need for revenge clouding his thoughts. And if she weren’t willing to listen, well… that was just one more thing to add to his growing list of regrets.

  He’d had to lie to Kennedy. Not for the first time, when her father was a man like Damien Wolfe. At some point, he’d grown used to telling half-truths to the little girl he’d watched grow up, to shield her from the ugliness by which she was surrounded. Still though, he hated to be that person, to not be the one decent man in her life.

  But he hated her father more.

  With tears in her eyes, she’d begged him to find her parents, and make sure they were okay. He’d promised to do that for her, if she helped him get out of the house, and… now that he really thought about it… technically he hadn’t actually lied.

  Harrison certainly did plan to find Damien Wolfe, just like he planned to find Terry King. He hoped Wolfe was alive and – relatively – well, because that would make the joy of ending his life so much greater.

  Terry was first though.

  Between the two men, he hated Terry more. So he was the goal, and the whole reason Harrison hadn’t already ended Wolfe even though he’d had ample chance. A simple killing was easy, and unimaginative, but the complicated plan Wolfe had laid for getting back at King… Harrison certainly didn’t mind co-opting that. And Terry King’s raid on Wolfe’s house, blowing it up, and probably keeping the man hostage somewhere… all of that was just icing.

  As far as he was concerned, it was better to have both men as far down on their figurative knees as they could get before the final blow, and the attack against King Pharmaceuticals had been blistering. Harrison was glad he’d waited, glad he’d pushed his patience to the limit, because now… this was going to be beautiful.

  King’s company was desecrated, and Wolfe was being held somewhere against his will? It was, honestly, the stuff revenge fantasies were made of. So yeah, he’d manipulated Kennedy to help him get out of the house. She was a kid, so he knew the team wouldn’t do anything to her beyond a little yelling and cursing out. He’d had her slip him her cell phone, and the keys to one of the vehicles. He used it to get as far away from the house as he could, as quickly as he could, and then left it in a mall parking lot, trading it for another. He knew he didn’t have long before his absence was discovered, and very little time, because of what he’d shared with Savi, before everything was figured out. So he didn’t have time to formulate a long plan. He had to move.

  He’d traded Kennedy’s smartphone to some kid for a beat up old blackberry, and made a few calls to the right people. It didn’t take him long at all to get directly connected to Terry King, and now here he was, in one of King’s homes, waiting to meet the man he’d been wishing death on for damn near two decades.

  Show time.

  Harrison had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes when Terry King strode into the sitting room with purpose, and he bridled his hatred long enough to shake the man’s hand.

  “I don’t have a lot of time – no time, really – so how about we get right to it. I don’t think I trust you.” Terry’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he delivered that statement, obviously goading a reaction.

  Harrison raised an eyebrow at Terry King’s words, but kept his face otherwise impassive, giving nothing away. “I can’t say that I blame you. I understand that you and my previous employer were enemies.”

  Terry smirked. “One might put it that way. How’s the leg?”

  Harrison’s nostrils flared. “Healing.”

  Laughing, Terry clapped Harrison on the shoulder. “I saw that little flash of anger there, and I like it. Lets me know you’re human, son.”
Harrison cringed at the term of endearment, even though he knew it was said in passing. Terry clenched his shoulder again, and Harrison shook his head, looking away to keep the disgust from showing in his eyes. “Why don’t you follow me? Let’s take a little trip.”

  I’d rather not, Harrison thought. He had an ominous feeling about this “trip”, and was nowhere near as well-armed as he would have liked. One of his old connections had hooked him up with a suit and a few weapons, but most of them had been confiscated by Terry King’s men before he was allowed into the door. He had just enough left to kill somebody within a range of a few feet… but it wasn’t time quite yet.

  He followed one of King’s bodyguards down a long hall and then a set of stairs, wondering what the hell he was walking into. With every step, he was, more and more, regretting having this emotional reaction and rushing to meet with King.

  This was a mess. And really, it was reckless,

  But now that Savi was involved… he needed this to be over with. The thought of her being touched, lusted after, pursued by this man made bile rise to his throat. And then, thinking about the fact that he’d actually reached out to Renata, claimed he wanted to be some sort of father figure… it was time for this dude to die.

  Just… not quite yet.

  Moments later, Harrison stood in front of a closed door. One of King’s men stepped forward to unlock it, and a second after, it was open. Terry tipped his head, signaling for him to step inside, and Harrison obliged. Whatever this test was, he intended to pass.

  He cursed in his head when he saw what was inside the room.

  Fucking dummy, he said to himself as he willed his expression to remain unfazed. This was… shit! He didn’t really even have to wonder about what was going to happen next.

  Damien Wolfe looked up from the book he was reading, and did a double take when he saw Harrison. “Well I’ll be damned.” he said, almost sounding… hopeful. Until Terry stepped into the room with a grin on his face. Damien shook his head. “I don’t see any chains on your wrists or ankles, and this motherfucker is smiling, so… I guess this isn’t exactly a social visit.”

  Harrison scoffed. “Yeah. You guessed right.”

  He looked back at the sound of clapping behind him, and turned to see King watching them with a bored grin. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, stepping forward. “Good act and all, but I’m a man that deals in decisive action. Harrison, tell me something, right here in front of your former boss. What do you want?”

  “A job,” Harrison replied, pushing his hands into his pockets as he turned to face King. “I enjoyed a certain amount of protection, power, and respect when I worked for Wolfe. I’d like to be able to continue in that lifestyle.”

  Terry nodded, then narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Your life of comfort and luxury, in exchange for blowing out this motherfucker’s brains. Sound like a fair trade?”

  Harrison shrugged, even though inside, he was panicking, and searching his mind for a contingency. There had to be something, some alternative. There had to be a plan b.

  In his fantasy, Terry died first. It was a death that he celebrated with Damien, the final defeat of a common enemy. And then, when he least expected it, Harrison would end Wolfe as well, and revel in the fact that he hadn’t seen it coming. This was fucking up the flow.

  “Harrison?” King asked, from right beside him, pulling him from his reverie. “You seem a little unsure. How does that sound to you?”

  Harrison swallowed hard. “Sounds good to me.”

  No.

  No it didn’t.

  This wasn’t the way it was supposed to happen, but now Terry King was putting a gun in his hand. He wasn’t ready to take care of Wolfe, not yet, but… what else could he do in a situation like this? He walked up to the man who’d honestly raised him, for many years, ever since the death of his mother. “This is your fault,” he said, barely above a whisper. Damien smirked as Harrison pressed the gun to his forehead.

  “You really gonna do this, boy? After all I’ve done for you? It’s funny that you claim I didn’t do right by her, when you—”

  “Shut up,” Harrison growled, pressing the barrel of the gun deeper into his skin, making the man wince. “I have to do this. And you deserve this. All the people you’ve hurt, the lives you’ve ruined and taken… death is honestly too kind for you. And if it were up to me, it wouldn’t be anywhere near this quick. I’d make you suffer, just like other women have suffered at your hands.”

  Wolfe snorted. “Turn that gun around and shoot that motherfucker,” he bellowed, his eyes flashing with anger, fists clenched. “Don’t forget I’m the only reason your ass is alive, and definitely don’t forget your hands aren’t clean.”

  “But they’re cleaner than yours, motherfucker.” Harrison cocked the gun, moving his finger to the trigger. “I’ll atone for what I’ve done to keep up this charade. I’ll pay for it, I’m sure. But just like right now… I was doing what I had to do. Goodbye.”

  Harrison didn’t get a chance to pull the trigger.

  There was a loud boom from somewhere outside, so intense that the entire ground shook. Harrison looked toward Terry King, ears ringing, and mouthed “What was that?” but Terry shook his head.

  He didn’t know.

  And Harrison didn’t either, but he wasn’t taking chances. He followed when Terry King took off, trailing him down the hall and a flight of stairs to the basement-level garage, where all the vehicles were kept. Terry hopped into the backseat of a sleek-looking Escalade, and Harrison followed, closing the door just as the driver took off, barreling for the garage doors as the opened.

  Suddenly, Harrison felt a tug at the front of his shirt, and a second later he was pinned to the floor of the moving vehicle, with Terry King’s knee in his chest and a gun aimed at his face.

  “Tell me what the fuck just happened! Who did you bring to my house?!”

  &

  Damien relaxed back into his chair – his default state these days – and actually brought his hands together to clap as his old friend stepped into the room. Well… friend may have been a massive overstatement of their relationship, but at this moment, the other man’s face definitely seemed friendly.

  “I didn’t realize you were going to need to be carried out,” the man said, shaking his head. “The mighty have fallen so far.”

  Damien shook his head. “I may have fallen, but I don’t stay down.”

  “And someday, you’re going to thank me for that.”

  “Never.” Damien finally put down the book – The Art of War – that had been clutched in his hands since Harrison’s little visit, and stroked his chin. “That particular honor belongs to God. But I will thank you for your tireless efforts.”

  “As long as your thank you involves a figure with at least seven digits being added to my bank account… whatever you say. And God? Really? Here I was thinking you considered yourself God.”

  Damien chuckled. “No, not all. God is forgiving, I could never fill that role. I am a man of many strengths, but many weaknesses as well. My weaknesses would overwhelm the position. I fit better into the role of Satan, since many consider me to be that anyway. Where is my wife?”

  The other man shook his head, stepping aside as the medics came in and began examining Damien’s injuries. “Running around the city spending Terry King’s money.” Damien gave a slight nod, and the man squinted like he was confused, then shook his head again. “So what are you going to do now? Now that you’re free?”

  As the medics finished, and transferred him into a wheelchair, Damien turned to give his rescuer a big smile. “Well, Agent Barnes, I’m going to live up to my name. I’m ready to give these motherfuckers hell.”

  Fourteen.

  “You sure you want to do this? It’s not too late to call it off.”

  Savi flinched at Kendall’s words as they broke the silence in the car, speaking life to the very doubts running through her head. She wasn’t sure she wanted to do this, but yes… it was definite
ly too late to call it off.

  It would look suspicious, she knew, that she’d eagerly accepted Terry King’s invitation only to blow it off at the last minute, and with so much up in the air, the very last thing she needed was added suspicion.

  When the phone had rang, and she realized it was Terry, her first reaction had been panic. Harrison was missing. Harrison wanted King dead. King was calling her of all people. So what was it? Was he calling to gloat, because Harrison was dead or injured? Was it Harrison calling, to say the deed was finally done? Or was it neither? Was it just the innocent call of a horny man, trying his luck for a second time with a beautiful woman?

  It seemed to be the latter, but there was really no way to be sure. And when they needed this one last go at Terry King, having her not answer wasn’t really a risk they could take.

  So she picked up the call.

  Played along, flirted, acted as if she were really Sarai, excited to hear from this rich, handsome older man. As if she were looking forward to allowing him between her legs, which was undoubtedly what the invitation meant.

  But it wasn’t going down like that. Savi would kill him first, though she hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. An arrest, on suspicioun of murder, arson, and kidnapping would be sufficient grounds to hold him until one of their agencies could make something stick. It wasn’t perfect, and may not even work well, but it was the last-ditch effort of the desperate. They just needed to get him to that airfield, and keep him there long enough for Barnes to make a warrant happen.

  So, she went.

  With Harrison stuck in her mind, wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he was safe – all feelings that were very familiar. She wanted to be angry with him for disappearing, but after what he’d shared about his mother, she couldn’t seem to do anything but hope he accomplished his goal. He was so obviously haunted by all of it, that more than anything, she just wanted him to finally have some peace.