by Dee, Bonnie
He turned off the TV, took a last drink of the antacid, then capped the bottle and hid it in his desk drawer. He sat behind his desk, shoulders squared, hands folded neatly on the blotter, waiting.
Algernon entered the room alone. As far back as he could remember, Ray had never seen his father without a bodyguard or two in attendance. Their lack seemed ominous. His father seated himself across from Ray, one leg casually crossed over the other and his hands resting comfortably in his lap. With his white hair and regal bearing, he already looked presidential. “You know why I’m here.”
“Yes, sir.”
The old man shrugged. “The footage may negatively affect my campaign, but I’m not too worried about that. Image can be cleaned up and public opinion won back. I’ll express shocked disapproval and distance myself from your disaster. People will admire my forthrightness in admitting that I had my faults as a parent and take my full share of blame for your mental problems. Winning them back won’t be a problem.”
Ray shifted in his seat. His heartburn flared in his chest like a brand. He glanced longingly at his drawer of pills and potions then back at his father’s tranquil face.
“What concerns me,” Algernon steepled his fingers and rested the point underneath his chin, “Is your disloyalty. You planned to betray me. That’s not something I can easily forgive. I’ve always known you were weak, but I thought I could trust you.” His eyes narrowed as he gazed at Ray. “How are we going to move past this?”
Sweat seeped from his neck into the collar of his shirt. Ray wanted to rip his tie off before it choked him. “I’m sorry. It was … I know how this looks. When I found out you tested my loyalty with that damn box, I was angry. I didn’t know why I should give you everything when you showed no more faith in me than that. It clouded my judgment.”
“Yes.” Algernon’s voice was dry as paper. “The point is, where do we go from here?”
Ray hated the little boy whine in his voice when he replied, “I’m so sorry. I know I screwed up. I’ve lost everything I built here,” he gestured at the dark, quiet office around them, “and I failed you personally. If you forgive me, I’ll do whatever it takes to win back your trust. Put me in the lowest position in your organization. I’ll be grateful.”
Algernon held up his hand. “Stop. Groveling doesn’t become you. I’ll take your apology into consideration.” He rose from his seat.
Ray stood too. His father’s cool gaze pinned him in place as the old man’s gray eyes locked with his for a long moment. “Do you know, son, there wasn’t a moment in your life when you weren’t a disappointment? Even when you were temporarily successful, I knew it was a matter of time before you failed again.” Algernon shook his head, then turned and walked to the door. It closed with a quiet click behind him.
Ray’s shirt was drenched with sweat. He collapsed into his seat and dove for his desk drawer. His trembling hands shook as he tried to open the Maalox bottle. He’d just succeeded in getting the lid off when the door opened again.
Looking up, he expected his father, returned to impart another nugget of wisdom and parental compassion. Instead, two of Algernon’s regular guards entered the office.
Ray rose to his feet. A high, keening whine grew in his ears and his vision darkened at the edges. He thought he might pass out. “No. Please.” He backed away from his desk, hands raised, as the men approached him.
“Sorry, Mr. Brody. You’ve become a liability.” One of the men spoke in a dispassionate voice. He took Ray gently by the elbow as though to escort him from the room.
Maybe they’re just going to teach me a lesson. Ray held out hope for broken kneecaps, until the other bodyguard grabbed his right side and the pair lifted him between them and dragged him toward the window.
No, this can’t be right. He looked wildly around his office, suddenly dear to him. He wondered if anyone would take care of the potted plant in the corner after he was gone, mist it and polish the leaves once in a while.
“No. Please don’t.” Ray was surprised at how conversational his voice sounded. Shouldn’t he be screaming and begging?
One of the two men pushed the window open. A cool breeze blew against Ray’s face and he thought what a pleasant night it was. Then his body was thrust through the window frame. He looked down at the cement, really not so very far below, only a few stories. Possibly the fall wouldn’t kill him—but then the two men would make sure his neck was snapped one way or the other.
Ray thought of the untidy mess someone would have to clean up from the pavement when this was over. Then he felt himself flying free and for one second imagined he would swoop up into the air like a superhero and fly away.
Chapter Sixteen
The debriefing at KOTE took as long as Justin had anticipated, hours of grilling each of them in separate rooms. “How much longer is this going to take?” he finally asked Donovan.
“Until I’ve picked every last scrap of useful information from your brain.”
“Question me as long as you want. Hell, lock me up if you think I deserve it. But Trina is an innocent pawn in all this. She’s been in captivity for almost two months! I just want to get her home where she can feel safe and start to put this experience behind her.”
“Sorry, Foster, but I don’t think the girl is going to forget what she’s been through. It’s better to let her talk it out.” Donovan reclined back in his chair, stretching his long legs in front of him. “Try to think of it as therapy. It’s certainly not meant to be a punishment. And we might find out something, some little detail that will make all the difference. Tell me again about the two guys you ran into when you were out doing what Brody claimed was false field work.”
And so it went for hours. But finally they were allowed to go—all except Jhoti. He was whisked off somewhere and they didn’t see him again.
As they left headquarters, Trina took Justin’s arm. “Home now?”
“It’s late and L.A. is a few hours away. We could just stay at a motel.”
“I’d rather go home. That is, if you don’t mind driving. I know you must be tired.” She reached up to touch a bruise on his jaw. “You look terrible.”
He leaned and kissed the top of her head. “No. We can go. I’ll borrow a car from the garage.”
Justin went and collected one of several cars KOTE kept on hand for emergency transportation. In a few minutes he pulled around the front to pick up Elyse and Trina.
“Jeez, if I’d known KOTE was giving away free cars, I’d have switched sides a long time ago,” Elyse said as she slipped into the seat beside him. “I don’t get these people. You double-cross them, lie to them, and they just let you go?”
Justin felt the familiar cocktail of annoyance, amusement and lust Elyse inspired in him bubble up. “I’ve been reprimanded and put on a paid leave of absence until the board discusses the matter and comes to a decision. I’ll probably face disciplinary action of some kind, but this isn’t the army. I’m not going to be court-martialed. Donovan knows I’m going to face whatever punishment they deem fair.”
“What about me?” Elyse flipped back her hair and the small feminine gesture sent a sudden surge of desire through him. “Aren’t they afraid I’ll turn coat again.”
“You said it yourself, Elyse. You can’t go back. Your bridges are burned. Donovan and Claire know that.” Justin glanced away from the road long enough to smile at her. “Guess you’re stuck with us now.”
There was a small snort of disapproval from the back seat where Trina lounged.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and they exchanged a look. No doubt she thought he was crazy to bring Elyse home and was probably angry with him for forgiving the woman so easily. How could he explain what he didn’t understand himself?
Suddenly Trina’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Hey, turn the radio up. Listen!” She hit Justin’s shoulder.
He reached over and turned up the volume.
“…fall from a window the apparent cause of death
. Earlier this afternoon at a press conference Raymond Brody announced his candidacy in the upcoming presidential primary, but almost simultaneously, footage was aired in which he implicated himself in a plot to control followers of his Center for Human Wellbeing movement. The bizarre declaration was caught on hidden camera and broadcast nationwide. At the time of his apparent suicide, no charges had been brought against Brody.”
“Holy shit!” Elyse said.
“In a press conference today, another presidential hopeful, Algernon Brody, father of the deceased expressed deep sadness and concern for the state of his son’s mental health prior to his death.”
Algernon’s sonorous voice commanded the airwaves. “Raymond was a troubled man. Clearly his claim of an implanted device that could control his followers’ very behavior is beyond belief and his attempt to enter the primary was a desperate bid for attention. I’m deeply sorry for neglecting to notice the warning signs of mental illness in my son and for allowing my own ambitions to distract me from my responsibility as a father.”
The newscaster resumed the story, giving the history of the founding, swift rise, and meteoric fall of the Center for Human Wellbeing.
Elyse blew out a breath, “Whew! Poor Ray.”
“He didn’t jump,” Justin said. “If he was going to off himself, it wouldn’t be like that.”
“I know. You hear about animals killing their young if they’re too weak. They’ve got nothing on Algernon Brody.”
“Stop it,” Trina said. “Turn it off. I don’t want to hear any more.” She sat back in her seat as Justin turned off the radio.
He glanced at her in the rearview again. Her lip trembled and tears glazed her eyes. Stockholm syndrome, he decided. She’d begun to identify with her captor. He started to say something comforting and then realized there were no words to cover the situation, so he closed his mouth without saying anything. Silence reigned in the car for the rest of the drive home.
Both Trina and Elyse were asleep when Justin finally pulled the car into his driveway. Elyse started awake the moment he killed the engine, but Trina slept on.
Justin tossed Elyse the house key and told her to unlock the door while he lifted Trina from the back seat and carried her into the house, much as he had done when she’d been a child. She seemed no heavier now than she had then, as slender and light as a reed.
He took her to her room and laid her on her bed, removing her shoes and then covering her. Justin stood for a moment looking at her pale, peaceful face in repose. With Ray dead, there would be no reprisals from that direction, no crazy revenge scheme targeted at Trina. Justin was glad Algernon had ended his son’s life. Or maybe the guy really had jumped, who knew?
He turned and left the room, heading toward his bedroom where he knew Elyse would be waiting. He paused in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and took in a sight he’d never expected to see again—Elyse sprawled on her back on his bed with her arms outflung, making herself right at home.
“My God, I’m exhausted! It seems like weeks since I had some sleep. Come to think of it,” she raised her head to look at Justin, “we didn’t do too much sleeping last night.”
“Or the night before,” he added. “I wasn’t as unconscious as you evidently wanted me to be. I know what you did while you thought I was out of it.”
She rolled to the side, propping her head on her hand and gazing at him, one eyebrow raised. She didn’t look remotely penitent. “Did you like it?”
“You know I did.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
He shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and moving into the room. “Guess I wanted to see how you were going to play it, what your game was.”
“Pure and simple. I wanted you back in the sack. Ostensibly, I was doing it ’cause Brody wanted me to get close to you and find out your KOTE secrets, but really, I just wanted to fuck you again. I’m not as devious or complicated as you think, Justin. I’m a simple gal with simple tastes.”
He sat down on the bed beside her and reached out to push a fiery strand of hair from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear. “Why don’t I hate you as much as I ought to? You completely fucked me over. I vowed I’d kill you if I ever saw you again and yet, here you are.”
She rolled to her back again, her chest thrusting forward as she lifted her arms over her head and stretched. “You know the French call an orgasm, le petit mort, the little death. I don’t expect you to kill me with kindness, but you can kill me that way—over and over again.” Her eyelids lowered seductively and her lower lip pouted.
Despite himself, Justin smiled at her outrageous posturing … and, as usual, his dick hardened in his pants. “Little bitch,” he murmured, leaning down to bite her full lip. Abruptly he stood and began to unbutton his shirt. “But first, I’m taking a shower.”
“I’ll help you.” She bounced up off the bed. “I’ll massage all your poor hurt muscles and kiss them better.” Elyse wrapped her arms around his back, resting her head between his shoulder blades as her hands took over the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Once his shirt was open, she slipped her palms up and down his chest and abdomen, the slight curve of her fingernails tickling his skin and making it twitch.
Justin looked down at her busy hands and red nails gliding down his torso toward the top of his pants and unfastening them. He caught his breath in anticipation of her fingers wrapped around his cock, but Elyse surprised him and stopped after she’d unzipped his fly.
“Hey, Justin.” Her voice was muffled against his back. “Not to be repetitious, but…”
“I know. You’re sorry.”
“Yeah, that too, but also I wanted to say again how much I really, really like being with you. The sex. The friendship. All of it. I know you don’t believe me, but I wasn’t faking any of it those weeks we were together. Guess I kind of got lost in the role. It’s easy to do when you don’t know who you are—which I never have, despite acting cocky all the time.”
Taking her hands in his, he linked their fingers together without saying a word.
“I’ve been twisted up for so long, I don’t know if I can ever sort myself out. But what you said on the plane, about being the best version of yourself you can be? I think I was that when I was with you.” She paused a moment and her voice was very soft when she continued, “I want to be her again.”
His heart clenched at the uncertainty in her voice, so young, so non-Elyse. For a moment he thought maybe she was acting again, yanking his chain, playing contrite.
Then she cleared her throat and laughed sharply. “Damn it! I hate when I get all mushy. Fucks with my head.” She pulled her hands from his and removed her arms from around him.
Justin was reluctant to let them go. He turned to face her.
Elyse brushed her hand across her eyes and wouldn’t meet his gaze.
He put his finger under her chin and tilted her face up, forcing her to look at him. “I wasn’t acting either. I felt it, too, that connection. And I’ve never been happier in my life than I was then.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I think we can both find it again. We’ll take it slow.”
She blinked the shininess from her eyes. “But not too slow, all right? ‘Cause I really want to take that shower with you right now.” Her irrepressible smile lit up her face.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a full-body-contact kiss so she could be in no doubt about his interest in sharing a shower. The bulge of his cock pressed into her belly. He cupped her ass, pulling her even more tightly against him. Justin angled his head, slipping his tongue between her lips and swirling it around, seizing control of her mouth, possessing it.
She made a small sound in her throat and her hands went around the back of his neck, slipping up into his hair and cradling the back of his skull. Her tongue twined with his, her breasts flattened against his chest and every inch of her body pressed against his.
Justin finally pulled his mouth away and gasped in a lungful of air. “We’
re not going to make it to the shower at this rate.” He kissed the tip of her nose, then swept Elyse up in his arms and carried her to the bathroom.
He turned on the water and in a fumbling hurry, they disrobed, scattering clothes across the tile floor. Naked, they came together once more, clutching, stroking, fondling each other’s flesh with frantic desperation as the bathroom filled with clouds of steam from the coursing water. Justin dragged her under the scalding spray where they remained entwined, kissing and kissing.
He slid his hands up and down her slippery-wet body, caressing every part of her he could reach. Parting her ass cheeks, he slipped his finger down the groove and teased her hole with the tip of his index finger in a way he knew she liked.
Elyse pressed her bottom back against his hand and moaned.
Justin left her mouth to kiss a trail down her neck and chest to her breasts. They were rosy-pink from the hot water and as firm and round as melons. He drew the peak of one into his mouth and sucked on it hard while tweaking the nipple of the other between his thumb and forefinger. At the same time, his other hand continued the ass play, probing gently in and out of her anus.
Her hands gripped his shoulders and she thrust her breasts toward his mouth and her rear onto his finger. “Mm, it feels so good,” she murmured and lifted her face up into the streaming water.
After a moment, Justin released her, both back and front, and stepped away. “Even better if I soap you up.” He reached for the bottle of body wash and a sponge.
She frowned, her eyes opening as she stepped out from under the spray. “Wait a second. You’re the wounded hero. I’m supposed to be nurturing you. I think I promised a massage and kisses.”
“Plenty of time for that. I’ll do you first, then you do me.” He squirted a generous dollop of soap onto the sponge and worked it into lather. Moving under the showerhead, he turned Elyse to face him outside the circumference of the spray, and began to cover her with suds from head to toe. The scent of lavender filled the small cubicle, sharp and sweet at the same time. Justin loved the way her body looked, slick and pink and decorated with splotches of soapsuds. He slid his hand down her sudsy body and slipped his fingers between the smooth, plump folds of her pussy. They were as rosy and soft as flower petals opening to his touch. He stroked two of his fingers in and out of her entrance, feeling the mysterious convolutions of flesh inside her.