Trust Me

by Isabel Jolie

  John Morgan steps forward. “We can help. I’d like to bring my team in to assist with the search.”

  Bill shakes his head in a jerky motion, his lips set in a firm, straight line. “Glad to know additional resources are available, but I’ve got a lot of wheels in motion right now. I do not doubt we will locate her within hours.”

  I step forward. I know what this is. It’s a damn pissing match. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let Bill get fucking territorial right now. “Look, Bill, take all the help you can get. The FBI has resources you’re not going to have.”

  Bill grinds out, “No, I can do more than they can. My guys don’t have to follow the letter of the law. We’ll have her soon.” Bill taps my shoulder. “You put me in charge of this for a reason. Let me find her. I can’t get bogged down bringing these guys up to speed and hand-holding them.”

  John and Owen share a silent exchange. They remain silent as Jordan reaches out to me, his hand wrapping along my elbow. He tugs my arm and leads me across the room.

  In a low voice, he says, “We won’t interfere in the ongoing investigation. The FBI will conduct a separate investigation. If we learn anything new we think will help Withers’s team, we’ll let you know. We would appreciate it if you would do the same. Stay here and keep us informed.” He reaches out and takes my phone. I watch as he enters his contact information.

  Bill charges over to us. Shoulders back. He looks angry as hell. I get it. He sees this as someone doubting his work. I slap my hand on his shoulder. “Hey, I’ve got this. These guys are gonna be leaving. I’ll see them out. You get back to work finding Olivia.” I’m staying calm. Doing what I do best and managing resources. Inside, I’m a fucking mess, and I want to lose it on Bill’s childish attitude. Fuck.

  Bill takes my bait. Walks back to the far corner of the room where he was standing before we came in, pulls out his phone, and calls someone.

  I catch Jordan’s eye, and we lead the way down the hall. Once we are all outside of the apartment and standing before the elevator, I place my hand on Jordan’s shoulder. He stares at my hand the way someone would stare at a scorpion, with a look of disgust and caution. I remove it. So, we’re not that familiar yet. Got it. “Look, I appreciate you doing anything you can do. Do you guys want to go up to my apartment? You can work from there. It’s one floor up. My office is fully outfitted.”

  John smiles. “Thank you, but we’ll be at the FBI offices. Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  “Stay with Bill. As much as you can, stay with him.”

  I pause, running through the implications of his request. “Why?”

  “Just a hunch. And besides, you’re the only hope we have of knowing if they get any leads.”

  I raise my eyebrows. Now that, he is right about. Bill’s not someone I’d call a friend, but I do place a lot of trust in him, spend a lot of time with him, and I know he’s a competitive fucker. He’s gonna want to bring Olivia home on his own. And in this ball game, we’ve gotta be a team. Remove anyone with an “I” mentality. I nod and look John in the eye. “I got you. I’ll be there. Any leads, I’ll share them with you.” Almost to myself, I add, “We’re a team.”

  They leave, and Anna takes my hand. “How can we help?”

  I exhale. “I don’t know. You guys want to go up to my apartment to wait? Or you can head back to yours, and I’ll let you know if we find anything.”

  “We’ll wait in yours. That way, we’re here if you need us.”

  I walk back into the apartment. I sit on the sofa so I can hear Bill’s conversation. Anna’s words hang in the back of my mind. I flip my phone over and text Ollie. I won’t ask anything from my family. Not right now. But I’ll let them know a bit of what’s going on. After I text Ollie, I text Jason. He knows Olivia. He may have even seen Tiffany, or Lindsey, on campus. Any information he might have might help these guys. After I explain the situation, I send over the most recent picture of Tiffany Lindsey Ray, the one of her in a motorcycle jacket.

  Chapter 30

  Sam

  Bill stands at the far end of the den, pacing and alternating between making phone calls and reading and sending texts. Members of the security team have been coming and going. Checking out different locations. Coming back. Two men are talking in hushed tones, leaning over a computer.

  I hear bits and pieces. Every store on 47th Street is clear. Footage on 47th Street from last twenty-four hours on NYC cameras, no sightings. Ms. Ray left her apartment through the vendor entrance. Located her at several subway stops. Working on tracking her through an endless maze of NYC cams.

  I stare at the ceiling. I’m so fucking helpless. I’ve been losing confidence in Bill and his team as I watch them. Bill’s face has gone pale. Perspiration runs down his temples. It’s, like, sixty-five degrees in this apartment. He keeps lowering the heat. None of these are good signs.

  My phone dings. I grab it from the table.

  Jordan Grayson: Come up to your apartment.

  I stand. I catch Bill’s eye from across the room and toss my head in the direction of the door. I wave and mouth, “I’ll be back.” Not sure why I’m being silent.

  This has to be good news. They found something.

  I walk down the hall and open the door. Someone grabs my arm. A man in full SWAT gear places a finger over his lips and makes a soft “shhh” sound. I’m pushed farther down the hall. Approximately six men in SWAT gear are standing in the hall. Jordan stands at the end of the hall, beside his friend John. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest over his suit.

  It’s 3:00 a.m. My emotions have been all over the fucking place, and my brain’s in slow motion. Fogged. I step closer to Jordan.

  From behind me, I hear one of the men shout, “FBI! Freeze!” I whip around, and the hall is empty, the door to the security apartment still open.

  Jordan’s hand falls on my shoulder, and he squeezes to get my attention. “We found Olivia. She’s en route to a hospital. We need to go. Now.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Let’s go.”

  I turn back, pointing at the security apartment. No noises come from the apartment as we walk by to the elevators. I’m so fucking confused. “What’s—?”

  “Your security team was behind Olivia’s kidnapping.” Jordan answers my obvious question.

  We are in the elevator as the words hit me. “All of them?” I ask.

  John answers. “We don’t know that yet. Bill Withers, definitely. At least one more. We’ve been following each of the men when they leave this apartment. It does appear they were searching for her. She may have gone rogue. Or FBI involvement complicated their plan. We found her by following one of Bill’s guys. Withers’s security firm has run into financial issues, so we were immediately suspicious. The FBI is still investigating.”

  Holy shit. We’re speed-walking to a car waiting for us. We all climb in. Jordan and I sit in the back. John takes the passenger seat.

  The car takes off down the street. John immediately turns, his arm over the seat. “Did Bill pressure you to increase security?”

  I run my hand through my hair. The first thing that comes to mind is how hard I fucking fought against my own security detail. I hired Bill for Esprit Transactions security based on a recommendation. He handles all non-technical security. But then he kept pushing for me to hire a personal security detail. I remember how pissed I was that day he came before the board to explain the stalker. The meeting where they pressured me to agree.

  I grind my teeth and clench my fists. I have to focus my thoughts. “Why is Olivia going to the hospital? Did they hurt her?”

  “They gave her a tranquilizer. We’re not sure what it was, exactly. She wasn’t conscious.”

  “Is she okay?” I stare at Jordan.

  He responds, void of emotion. “No update yet. We’re on our way to the hospital now. I know this is tough, but please answer John’s questions. We have Olivia, but his team is still working the case.”
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  John repeats his question. “Did he pressure you for additional security?”

  I swallow. “Yes. I fought the security detail for me. He went before the board. There was this stalker. Ms. Ray. I’ve had a security detail for almost two years.”

  “Twenty-four-seven? Multiple men?”

  “Yeah, full contract. Three shifts. Security apartment because I wouldn’t let them in my home.”

  “Did he want Olivia to have a contract too?”

  I nod. Rub a hand over my face, trying to corral my fractured thoughts. “The stalker. Her name was Tiffany Lindsey Ray. Was she in on this?”

  John answers. “She’s in custody. She’ll tell us everything. We’re looking into her bank accounts, but we’re pretty sure she was on Withers’s payroll. We suspect he didn’t tell her to kidnap, though. If I’m right, he wanted her to scare you enough to sign another contract. If Jordan hadn’t involved us, he might’ve gotten away with it.”

  So, Bill’s bad. Fuck. He manages security for my entire fucking company. I pull out my phone and call Ted. He’s COO. A groggy “hi” sounds across the phone.

  “Ted. Sorry to wake you. I’m headed to the hospital.”

  “Wha—?”

  “Bill Withers was behind kidnapping my girlfriend, Olivia. FBI has him in custody now. You need to handle from Esprit’s perspective. He didn’t have his hands on anything from a technical perspective. I don’t know how many people on his team are with him. I don’t know who we can trust.”

  “Is Olivia okay?”

  “I don’t know.” I rub my sweaty palms against my jeans to dry them as my chest burns. I don’t know if she’s okay.

  The car pulls up to the hospital, and Jordan jumps out. He charges toward the hospital entrance, not waiting for me. I jump out and run.

  Chapter 31

  Olivia

  Beep. Beep. Beep. The sound is constant. I turn my head toward the noise. My head sort of flops against a soft object. I open my eyes and immediately squint. Bright yellow lights hurt.

  “Hey, there you are. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Sam’s face comes into view. His hair’s a mess, sandy brown chunks of it flopping forward. A few chunks arch backward, and random pieces stand straight up. His gorgeous blues are bloodshot. Deep lines I’ve never noticed before mark his face. He lifts my hand to his lips. That’s when I notice the taped IV coming out of the back of my hand.

  “What?”

  “You’re in Mount Sinai Hospital. Tiffany shot you with a tranquilizer. The kind of tranquilizer you’d shoot a bear with. Thank god we found you when we did. She didn’t know what she was doing. She gave you too much.”

  His voice breaks, and vertical lines form around his lips as he grimaces. I remember the hall. I remember the pain in my back. Heavy muscles. Difficulty breathing. My fingers trace along my face and touch the plastic lines bringing oxygen to my nose. I look to Sam, questioning.

  “You’re okay now. They figured out what she gave you. They had the reversal drug here at the hospital. Naloxone or something like that. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you are going to be okay.”

  “Do they have her?”

  He nods. “Yeah, yeah, they do. You’re safe now.”

  The door opens, and my uncle walks in the room. “Uncle Jordan?”

  He looks straight to Sam. “You were supposed to come get me when she woke up.”

  Sam leans back in his chair but doesn’t let go of my hand. “She just woke up.”

  Uncle Jordan looks me over then glances to the monitors showing my heartrate. “I’ll go tell the nurse you’re up.” He walks out.

  I focus on Sam. “Why is he here?”

  “He helped find you. Got the FBI involved.”

  “How long was I missing?”

  “Less than twenty-four hours. Thanks to your uncle.” He rubs his fingers through his hair. “There’s a lot to tell you. What matters is you’re okay.”

  A nurse walks into the room, followed by my uncle. The nurse checks me over, looking at the monitors on the machines. She shines a light into each of my pupils. With a kind smile, she asks, “How are you feeling?”

  “Okay. Tired. I was having trouble breathing. Before. But I can breathe now. My lungs still feel…” I pause, searching for the best word. “Tired. Like I ran a marathon.”

  “That’s good. To be expected.” She checks an IV drip hanging from a metal pole near me. “I’m going to let your doctor know you’re awake now. The effects of the drugs should be wearing off. He’ll probably want to keep you overnight for observation. Are you warm enough?”

  “I’m cold.” Freezing. Goosebumps cover my skin.

  “That’s normal.” She turns to a closet and pulls out two blankets and spreads them over me. “I’ll go get the doctor now.” She’s speaking to my uncle, not to me.

  My uncle pulls up the unoccupied chair by the end of my bed. He sits and squeezes my ankle. “Glad you’re okay, kiddo. You had us worried.”

  Sam intertwines his fingers with mine. “Turns out you never told your uncle about us. This isn’t the way I wanted to get to know your family, but at least now you don’t have to worry about introducing us.”

  He looks so tired. It’s not that I hadn’t wanted to introduce him to my family. I squint, the word family making me question. “Who all did you meet?”

  Uncle Jordan squeezes my ankle. “Your parents were here earlier. In the same room, if you can believe it. They left once they knew you were going to be okay.” I focus on the framed poster on the wall. Of course they left. “But, hey, they’ll be back this evening. They knew Sam and I were here. They will be back, okay?”

  The faded poster features a fern in a ceramic bowl. Uncle Jordan. Forever keeping the family together.

  He continues. “Anyway, I’ve decided I like this guy, here. You should have brought him around earlier. Or at least let me know you’re living with him now.” His declaration is tinged with a distinct fatherly tone.

  “I only moved in a week ago.”

  His lips turn up into a slight smile, and he squeezes my foot through the blankets. In a softer tone, he says, “It’s okay. I’m teasing you. Anyway, I wanted to see you before I left. I’ll be back this evening too. Your aunt’s going to come with me. If they release you this afternoon, we’ll stop by to visit you at your new home.”

  My new home. If Sam wants me there. Now there’s no stalker. No crazed lunatic. I shudder, remembering my inability to move and those wild, bloodshot eyes.

  The doctor comes. My uncle leaves. Then, finally, the doctor and another nurse leave. They may let me go home this afternoon. Waiting for some final lab results to come back.

  Once we’re alone again, Sam sits on the edge of the bed and rubs my cheeks. His touch feels warm on my cold skin. I can’t get warm. No matter how many blankets they put on me, I’m cold.

  Sam’s blue eyes glisten. “I almost lost you.” A single tear falls down his cheek, and I force my sore muscles to move. I lean over to press my lips to his neck, inhaling him. A hint of the cedar soap he uses replaces the sterile ammonia hospital aroma. The rough, hard growth of the stubble darkening his face and neck chafes against my cold skin. I welcome the sensation. It means I’m alive. His arms wrap around me and hold me close.

  We sit there, holding each other for I don’t know how long. The vibrations of his heartbeat calm me, heal me.

  Eventually, he sets me back on the pillows. His fingers run through my hair. “You need to rest.” He reaches for my other hand, so he’s holding both mine in his. “How do you feel?”

  He sits on the bed, leaning forward so we are close.

  I take stock. “Relieved. I was so scared.” Tears well in my eyes, and his warm hands cover my cold ones. “I can’t even begin to describe how scared. To not be able to move. I was conscious. Sort of conscious. It was this almost dreamlike state. At first, I wasn’t scared. Then as time wore on, and when I couldn’t breathe, I started to think. I started to think…” Tears run do
wn my cheeks unchecked. Sam wipes them away.

  “Shhhhh. You’re okay now. You’re okay.” He keeps repeating this until my tears have passed.

  “I thought I wouldn’t see you again,” I finally admit. “I also remember thinking I’m too young to die. But, if it had been the end, at least I gave us a shot.”

  “Oh, baby.” Tears run down his cheeks. He presses a firm kiss to my lips, then a soft kiss to my forehead, and he pulls me in, holding me tight. “I can’t believe I almost lost you. And my security team was responsible.”

  A soft knock on the door interrupts us. Professor Longevite stands at the door. Sam wipes the remnants of tears from his face and settles me back on the pillows but doesn’t shift away. He stays close, like he can’t bear to be apart from me. I feel the same way

  Jason enters the room and stops at the end of my hospital bed. “Glad to see you’re okay, Olivia. You gave us quite a scare.”

  “Pull up a chair,” Sam offers.

  Jason slides the one chair that’s across from my bed to the side. He sits on it and leans forward. “Ollie’s flying in. He’ll be here tonight. Your parents wanted to come too, but I convinced your mom she’d probably be more helpful once Olivia’s back at your place. There’s nothing worse than loads of people packed in a hospital room.”

  A look of understanding and compassion crosses Sam’s face. “Thanks, man.”

  Jason sits back in his chair. “Okay, tell me. What the fuck happened?”

  Sam and I both laugh. The light sound echoes through the room, bringing a welcome shift in mood.

  While holding my hands, Sam shares the whole sordid story. It turned out Bill Withers earned a salary as head of security to Esprit. But Bill also had his own security company. He had grand visions of building up a solid private security business, but the security industry is a highly competitive market. Bill had a Navy SEALs background, not a business background. He thought since Erik Prince did it, he could do it too.