The doors closed and he took off his jacket and rushed through unbuttoning his shirt. Symóne's eyes grew as he undid his pants. When he backed her to the side of the elevator and pulled up her skirt, she became excited. Her shock faded and she conformed to him.
The light to the eighth floor lit up, someone wanted to get on the elevator. Trevor rejected it and pressed the thirtieth floor several times again. He was in her, working her with such intensity that her screams could be heard through the doors at every floor they passed. The light lit on the twenty-first floor, his firm's floor, and he upped the adrenaline. He actually waited until the elevator stopped and the doors were about to open. Symóne gasped, but he reached out to close the door before it opened too far. Once they were closed, the elevator began to rise again.
“Trevor! You are so twisted!” she squealed.
“Oh you are about to find out just how twisted I am,” he panted, holding his release until he had her where he wanted her.
They finally reached the thirtieth floor and the doors opened. He continued to drive himself inside her, giving her every bit of passion she thirsted for. She panicked, wondering who was watching them. She couldn't see over his shoulder, but he didn't pause.
“Trevor? The door is open,” she whispered.
“I know. Are you ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
“This!” he growled as he pounded the lobby level button, closing the doors, and descending to the bottom. The force of the elevator going down at such an intense speed while he finished her off, had her screaming with excitement. She released and he released with her. Ten floors to go before the bottom, he quickly redressed, slung his jacket over his shoulder and took her by the hand just as the doors opened and they walked out to the lobby and went back to his car. As they got in and buckled up, Symóne was smiling so hard, her face hurt.
“Oh—my—freaking—goodness! Trevor! You are nuts!” she was boasting. His smile was devilish, but pleased at accomplishing another quest of Symóne's.
“So was that enough of an adrenaline rush for you?” he asked.
“Uh…hell yeah! We absolutely have to do that again,” she sounded hyper.
“Of course. Next time, we'll do it at the bank tower. It has cameras in the elevator,” he said with a smirk.
“You are joking, right?”
He shook his head no. Trevor took her hand and drove to the restaurant where they had lunch while discussing the wedding. Once he returned her to work, he could tell that Symóne was about to share her rendezvous with her best friend. Trevor kissed her bye, then went back to work. As he walked onto his floor, Vince was giving him the eye.
“What?”
“Step into my office. I have something to discuss with you,” he insisted, leading the way. Once he closed the door behind them, he turned to glare at Trevor.
“So…did you have fun locking everyone out of the elevator?” he smiled.
“Well…yes, I did,” Trevor shrugged. “Wait, how did you know it was me?” he asked. He surely didn't let the doors open on his floor and the thirtieth floor was an unfinished level that they owned.
“We all heard Symóne screaming your name for at least four floors on the way down. It was Mr. Harrison on the way up, but coming down…it was definitely Trevor,” he said truthfully. Trevor knew it was true, because it had in fact been just as he said.
“Uh oh,” said Trevor.
“Yeah, uh oh is right. You have to go down to the tenth floor and explain to Holly why her schizophrenic, one o'clock patient had to hear your fiance drop the F bomb three times through the elevator during her therapy session. Good luck with that one, I've got your two o'clock taken care of because you're going to be a while,” Vince shook his head.
Trevor cussed and slumped his shoulders. He straightened his suit jacket and checked himself in Vince's floor length mirror. He took a deep breath and headed back to the elevator, glancing around the vast office space where his team members were suddenly looking busy. He chuckled to himself and pressed the number ten button and the doors closed as he waited quietly while he descended to Holly's practice. He stepped off the elevator and walked up to the receptionist's desk.
“Is Holly with a patient?” he asked. Her receptionist bit her lip to keep from smiling and buzzed Holly.
“Mrs. Taggart…Mr. Harrison is here to see you,” she said through the phone.
The door to Holly's office swung open and there she stood. Her hand upon her hip, her glasses resting at the end of her nose, and her jet black hair pinned back in a faux hawk.
“You got my message I see?” she glared at him and jerked her head to the side, gesturing him into her office. He was hardly intimidated by her, but felt he did owe her an apology for disturbing her business.
“Yes, and I do apologize for my behavior in the work place. I hope that you will forgive me?” he asked, almost cracking a smile, but held it together.
“Look Harrison, I realize that you are young, but you are also a very successful attorney with a practice so well known that your name is known in every household throughout Texas, and I'm sure much farther. However…none of us need to hear it screamed through the doors of the elevator at work. You have undone three weeks of progress on Teresa and now she thinks the ghosts are back and haunting her again. You owe me Harrison, and you can start by first, never doing that again, and second, give me a deal on your condo.”
“My condo?”
“Yes. I know that you won't be staying there after you're married will you?”
“Well, yes. For a little while at least,” he shrugged and wondered why she thought that he should move.
“That's absurd Harrison. You're not going to be a bachelor anymore. You should buy that young lady a house, one that makes her feel like raising a family,” she explained her reasoning. He hadn't given that option any thought. His condo seemed to fit their lifestyle and Symóne hadn't mentioned wanting a house.
“Well, I can oblige your first request. Let me get back to you on the second,” he sounded serious. If it wasn't a serious consideration, he would not have even entertained her idea.
“I want first dibs Harrison, and…a deal,” she demanded as she peered over her glasses at him.
“When I make a decision, you'll be the first to know. Deal?” he checked.
“Deal. Now get to work and I don't want to have to listen to your sexual activities again,” she teased him and walked him to the elevator.
“No problem Holly. I truly am sorry about your patient. I'll call you soon,” he assured her that he would get right on her next request.
He went back up to his office and got to work. The end of the day came and he needed to have a discussion with Symóne. When they arrived home, she showered first while he flipped through some channels on the television and waited for her. She came out in a short terry cloth robe and sat across his lap. His hand automatically cupped her back and she leaned in to kiss him.
“What's on your mind, Trevor?”
“Something was brought to my attention today, and I think we should talk about it,” he started. She moved to sit beside him and he turned to face her.
“How would you feel if we bought a house?” he got right to the point.
“Like a house with a yard and a driveway, and…a garage?” she asked.
“Yes. Something we can build a family in,” he clarified. Her face lit up and she smiled.
“Really?”
“I guess that means yes?”
“Well, do you want a house?” she checked.
“Actually, I do. I'll call an agent in the morning and we can talk about all the things we're looking for in a house. How about that?” he asked.
She exhaled and leaned forward. Her phone went off, with a text.
Faye- Just checking on you.
Symóne- I'm great. Are you all settled in?
Faye- Almost. We can't seem to stay focused long enough to put anything away, but I think everything is here n
ow.
Symóne- Took you long enough. It's been two weeks since you were brave enough to tell your parents.
Faye- I know. Daddy's mad, but Mom seems okay.
Symóne- It's still new. They'll get over it.
Anonymous- Did you miss me?
Symóne's face frowned. She looked up in the direction Trevor had gotten up and left when Faye began to text her.
Faye- Do you have anything planned for tomorrow?
Anonymous- Are you there?
“Trevor!” she called out.
“Yeah babe?”
“Where are you?”
Faye- Symóne…
Anonymous- Hello?
“I'm in the bathroom. I'll be right out,” he promised.
Faye- Symóne, are you still there?
Symóne- Yes. Um…Trevor and I are going to look at houses I think.
Faye- Are you serious? That's great Symóne! Small, medium, big?
Symóne- Not sure yet.
Anonymous- I know you're there. You're texting her right now.
Symóne got up and started toward the bathroom when she heard the toilet flush. Trevor was washing his hands when she entered the bathroom. He faced her and knew that something was wrong by the look on her face.
“I know that look, it's him, isn't it?” he asked.
Symóne cocked her head to the side. “How would you know that?” she asked, then gasped. “Wait! He's in prison. He was sentenced to twenty years,” she was shaking now.
All of her memories of him attacking them in the other room were suddenly flooding her memory. Symóne backed up to the sink, her body felt weak and Trevor stepped to her. He took her phone and looked at what had her spooked.
Faye- Well take pictures of the ones you like and I'll look through them and give you my opinion.
Anonymous- You are so much prettier with your hair long and naturally blonde.
Faye- Why is it taking you so long to text back? Are you and Trevor entertaining the neighbors? I heard about your elevator stunt from Jeremy in Tech Support, who heard about it from one of the team members at Trevor's firm. You guys are celebrities.
Anonymous- Yes, I heard about that.
Anonymous- I'm going to get my chance to Fuck you too.
Trevor's facial expression went through a range of anger as he inhaled and let out a menacing growl. He started for his phone and made a call. All the while more texts came through.
Faye- Okay Symóne, I guess you're not in the mood to talk. I'll chat with you tomorrow.
Anonymous- No she won't.
“Blake! It's happening again! Find out if Harper is still behind bars!” he demanded.
“Yes Sir!” Blake didn't hesitate.
Symóne's phone rang. It was the anonymous caller.
Trevor answered, “Who is this?” he demanded. His anger was evident.
“I'm your worst nightmare. Where is Symóne? I would like to talk to her,” the voice sounded calm, almost eerie.
“Go to hell! Why don't you come out and stop being a coward! I want to talk to you!” Trevor snarled through the phone.
“I'm not hiding. I've been in your office and in her store. She showed me a nice bedroom set. One that I think will be perfect for what I have in mind. She touched me you know?” he was still calm.
Trevor was violently shaking as his anger boiled tremendously. He gripped her phone so hard, it began to crack open down the sides. Symóne stood in his arms, laying her head against his shoulder, listening to the conversation.
“If you ever come near her again, I swear I will kill you myself!” Trevor threatened and ended the call.
The anonymous caller called right back, but they ignored the call. Trevor pulled Symóne away from him and rushed to the door, checking to make sure it was locked. He turned to go to the patio door, checking it as well. They had become accustomed to securing everything all of the time, but he just wanted to make sure. Her phone stopped ringing, then started again.
“What did he say?” Symóne asked.
“He's been in your store!” he growled. “Damn it!” he was throwing a fit.
The phone rang again. Trevor looked at it, contemplating answering it again, but Blake was calling him back.
“Well?” he answered the phone.
“He's still behind bars. What's going on Trevor?”
“Someone is texting Symóne again, and now he's calling her. I talked to him, but he's clearly up to something,” he relayed.
“Everyone is still in place. Is that him still calling?” Blake asked, hearing Symóne's phone ringing in the background.
“Yes.”
“Okay, answer it and keep asking him where he is. No matter what he says, keep your cool and keep asking the same question. I'm on my way,” said Blake.
Trevor took a deep breath and led Symóne to the sofa for her to sit, but he stood behind her instead of sitting with her. He was way to tense to be affectionate with her and didn't want to react in a way that would harm her.
He answered, “What?”
“That perfume she's wearing—I bought it for her. She thinks you sent it to her, but I know what she likes. She wears it every day,” he chuckled, knowing he hit a nerve with Trevor.
“Where are you?” Trevor asked, remembering her flaunting her new fragrance to him, asking him if he liked the way it smelled on her. He had thought that she'd bought it and just wanted his opinion.
“I can just imagine her spraying it—me, all over her body.”
“Where are you?” Trevor growled. He knew this tactic. This man was intentionally pushing his buttons. He wanted Trevor to mess up, either running Symóne off, or getting himself locked up or possibly killed. He worked to calm himself.
“You know, I'll be willing to bet that she wishes it were me that was in that elevator with her. I would have made her cry with pleasure,” he chuckled through the phone.
Trevor's entire body tensed, shaking uncontrollably, his breathing was rough as he fought desperately to keep his cool. He began to pace the floor, panting, calming himself. I can do this. I've done it many times in court before, just not dealing with my own life, he gave himself a pep talk.
“Where are you?” he asked again.
“Close.”
Someone knocked on the door. Both Trevor and Symóne jumped at the sound, so he rushed to the door, looking out of the peep hole. It was Blake and a detective.
Trevor quietly opened the door and they came in, the detective carrying a case. He went to the kitchen table to set up and began hooking up wires to a device that looked like a miniature satellite. He motioned for Trevor to keep talking.
“If you are so brave, tell me where you are so that we can talk face to face. Man to punk,” said Trevor.
“I'll tell you if you let me talk to her first,” he offered.
“Hell no! You'll never get close to her again!” Trevor rejected, but Blake and the Detective were nodding to him, to allow it. Trevor looked at Symóne's frightened face and shook his head no.
“Let me talk to her!” the caller demanded.
Trevor's head fell back in frustration. He didn't want this man to scare or upset her more than she already was. Blake had sat down beside Symóne and whispered some things to her. Giving her reassurance that he would help her say what needed to be said. They were tracking the caller and they needed him to slip.
“You have one minute!” Trevor retorted, handing Symóne her phone. He rushed to sit beside her, taking her free hand and leaning his head against hers to listen. The detective had on headphones, listening through the device he had hooked up.
“Hello?” Symóne spoke with a shaky voice.
“Hey love, did you miss me?” he asked, his voice suddenly loving.
“Why are you doing this? Why me?” she asked.
Blake was nodding, assuring her to continue in that direction.
“Because I love you. I've always loved you.”
“You don't even know me.”
�
�Of course I know you. I've known you for years. Watching you walk past me as though I didn't exist. Every time I spoke to you, you'd just say hi and keep walking,” he was giving up more information to her.
“How do I know you?” she asked. The detective was becoming excited. They were closing in on his location, but the call disconnected.
“What happened?” asked Trevor, when Symóne pulled the phone from her ear, revealing that the call had ended. They waited, hoping he would call back, but minutes had passed and there weren't any messages either. Trevor pulled Symóne close to him, and she lay against him.
“Okay, so this is someone you've been in contact with long before Trevor. For him to never have approached you and introduce himself, seems a bit morbid. I mean, watching you patiently for years—at least until Trevor came along. But what does he have to do with our guy in prison?” the detective was talking out the situation. He wasn't specifically asking anyone in the room questions, just throwing out current information. Usually if others hear someone's thoughts, someone else can make sense of it.
“He said that he would speak to her and she would speak back in passing only. Maybe, someone from the Plaza?” Blake figured.
“Maybe, or even someone she worked with?” Trevor suggested. He squeezed Symóne and sighed his next question. “Can you think of anyone at work that seemed a little more than interested in you, babe?”
She thought for a long moment, then shook her head no. “Everyone spoke to each other. It was nothing out of the ordinary that I noticed,” she was frustrated. Why couldn't she place his voice, or remember him coming into her store?
“Well it is obvious that this man has a lot of patience, working on her for years. Here's the thing, we have to find a connection between this guy and the one in prison,” said the Detective. “Mr. Harrison, what are your plans for tomorrow?” he turned to face Trevor.
“We were going house hunting,” he sounded irritated and understandably so.
The detective exhaled. “You have to keep up your normal plans and routines. What we are going to do is send you on a mock house hunting trip. You'll get your agent to take you in the opposite direction of where you really want to live. Look at something that's similar to what you would actually take an interest in. We need to see if this one is following and watching you just like the other one,” the detective suggested.
Hostile Contact (The Hostile Series) Page 17