The Proposal

by Jennifer Lewis

  Realizing she felt dingy and jet-lagged, Andrea looked at her suitcases. “Mom, can I take a shower? I think it’ll clear my head some more.”

  “Of course, honey. Go ahead. Just remember what I said.”

  How could she forget?

  ****

  Benton felt only partially bad that he got Deacon’s pilot out of bed so early to fly after Andrea. The man seemed awfully cheerful for the hour though. Beside him, Sam quietly leafed through a business magazine Deacon subscribed to. He told the other man he didn’t have to come, but Sam related that he didn’t have anything else to do. So, the two of them sat on one of Deacon’s private jets, soaring across the United States to Denver, Colorado.

  Regretfully, he knew he handled the situation in the kitchen poorly. It was a conversation that veered into dangerous territory. He wasn’t certain he was ready to go there yet. He didn’t want to examine his motives too closely, yet... The truth of it remained; he wanted Andrea and he didn’t want to share her with anyone else. Ever.

  Threading his fingers behind his head, he stretched. “Women are a pain in the ass, Sam.”

  Same examined him over the magazine. “Precisely why I try to avoid any entanglement outside of bed.”

  Ryan came back from the bathroom. “What’re we talking about, boys?”

  Benton snorted. “Women. What else?”

  “Yeah... I try not to go there too often.”

  “So, did I. It only worked for about a year.”

  Ryan took a seat. “Well, that one...”

  Benton’s eyes narrowed. “That one, what?”

  “Relax, Rambo. She’s your girl, plain and simple. You might not see it, but I do.”

  Oh, he saw it alright. It was why he was in so much trouble right now.

  Fingers drumming on the arm rests, he looked out the window. Awarded with only passing clouds and the faint stretched of burnt orange light, he looked away. Having her so far away from him, was killing him. What if something happened to her? How the hell was he supposed to keep her safe?

  “I swear, if this jet doesn’t go any faster...”

  “This is a pretty good magazine,” Sam noted.

  “You can’t do anything from the air,” Ryan told him.

  “I know. Doesn’t make it any better.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Ryan nodded. “I know. You’re concerned about Brad. And now Jack.”

  At the change of subject, Sam lowered his magazine.

  Dragging his hand through his closely cropped hair, Benton sighed. “I don’t know what the hell those two are up to... But if anything happens to Andrea...” Would he kill his father if he had to? He knew the answer: if Jack hurt Andrea, Benton would hurt him.

  Sam set the magazine in his lap. “Deacon brought me up to speed on Brad.”

  Though Sam had only been with them for a week (an entire week in which Benton was on his honeymoon), Benton liked him well enough. He didn’t know if he trusted the man to have his back yet. Time would tell that. He needed to talk with Deacon to learn more about the man. That would need to wait until they got back.

  “Yeah, the guy is a real piece of work.”

  Sam nodded. “Pampered little rich boy. Comes from money, but it looks like the money ran out a few years ago. His father lost it all. Probably why Brad is so angry about being fired.”

  “Yeah, that and he was embezzling from Deacon,” Benton agreed.

  Sam whistled. “That’s federal time.”

  Ryan grinned. “Won’t be such a pretty boy when he spends a few years in prison, will he?”

  “Got to catch the rat first,” Benton said, frustration edging his words. “He’s using Deacon’s money to hide well.”

  “The Feds are involved though, right?” Sam again.

  “Yeah. They talked with Deacon recently, I guess. Want us to stay out of the way.” Benton sat forward. “I can tell you, if I get a hold of that weasel, I’m not staying out of anything.”

  Sam laughed. “I wouldn’t expect you would.”

  Benton leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “This had better be a simple pick up...”

  “I swear, you are the biggest worrier I know,” Ryan teased.

  Benton eyed him. “If this was your woman...”

  “Yeah, yeah. I don’t have one of those, so I don’t have to worry. Guess one of us was stupid,” he added, winking.

  “Got that right. I should’ve stayed away.” But if he had... A million ways in which Andrea could get harmed floated through his head.

  “Well, too late for those sentiments now,” Ryan imparted. “Shouldn’t be much longer until we land.”

  Since the plane started to feel like a prison, Benton appreciated the words. He didn’t know what he would say to Andrea’s parents. He didn’t know how much they now knew. He supposed a talk with Andrea’s father would be in his future. He couldn’t blame the man. Benton had vowed to honor and cherish the man’s daughter, and now, David probably knew it was a fraud.

  The thought of their marriage being a sham bothered him in a way he couldn’t pinpoint. They had known one another for over a year, but these last few weeks he came to realize a few truths. He felt like he didn’t have enough to offer her. He felt like letting her in, would be letting down his guard in a way soldiers didn’t. But he wasn’t a soldier anymore.

  Maybe it was time to admit what he already knew.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  After her shower, Andrea dressed in comfortable lounge pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. She met her father in the living room. From the smells permeating the house, her mother cooked. Her stomach rumbled. She hadn’t realized she was even hungry.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  He sat in his favorite chair. “Hello, Andy.”

  Settling on the worn, but comfortable couch, she tucked her feet beneath her. “So, did Mom tell you what’s going on?”

  He nodded. And she gathered that was all he would say on the subject.

  But he surprised her, saying, “I think Benton is a good man, Andy. I don’t agree with how you got married, but your Mom thinks he loves you. That’s good enough for me.”

  Her shoulders lowered. She didn’t know they were so tense. “Thanks, Dad.”

  David’s eyes settled on her. “About this Brad...”

  “I know, I know, Dad. I have terrible taste.”

  “No, I was going to say, I hope they catch him soon. I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  She shrugged. “Well... He’s just harassed me. He hasn’t really tried to do much else.”

  “Doesn’t mean it’s not leading up to that.” Lifting the footrest on the chair, he added, “You should’ve stayed with Benton.”

  “I know. But I’m glad I came.” Sliding from the couch, she walked behind the chair and hugged her father. David patted her hands.

  Looking at the clock on the mantel, she realized it wouldn’t be long until Benton came. She tried not to cringe inwardly. Like her father, Benton didn’t necessarily lecture. And much like her father, she could tell when Benton disapproved.

  The man meant too much to her. She hadn’t wanted to fall this deeply, but she supposed it became inevitable when they came together. The question remained, did he still want to be married to her? When she signed the papers for the house and Brad was no longer an issue, what would he say? Maybe this time it was up to her. She needed to take a risk to get what she wanted. Risks just weren’t her style.

  Careful, cautious Andrea. If she didn’t look like her mother, she might wonder if she belonged to David and Grace. Both always seemed to know what they wanted. David carried confidence like a second skin, and Grace was a free spirit, never hesitating to try something new. Did her parents ever worry they might crash and burn?

  Pushing her damp, wavy hair over her shoulder, she went back to the couch.

  “Breakfast is ready!” Her mother called from the kitchen. Only, why did it sound like she was choking on her words?

  David
must have felt the same, because they both stood at the same time and hurried to the kitchen. What she saw there, sent ice down her spine. Brad stood near her mother, a gun loosely in his hand. He didn’t point it at anything in particular, but the cold steel left her trembling. He smiled, more a grimace than anything else. It frightened her.

  “Sit down,” he instructed them, waving his gun toward the table. Like rats in a maze, they all scurried to do as they were told.

  On the table, her father’s hands flexed and she knew he wanted to do something. Grace laid her own over his, squeezing.

  “I suggest you not try anything.”

  From behind Brad, another voice sounded. “It’s clear out here.”

  As the thin frame came into view, Andrea couldn’t help her gasp. “Jack? Why are you here?”

  Was it her imagination he looked ashamed? Whatever the expression, he tucked it away and became silent and neutral.

  Brad jerked a thumb behind him. “Don’t worry about him.”

  In a calm, seemingly unaffected tone, her father asked, “What do you want?”

  Brad narrowed his gaze on David. “I want compensation for what I’ve lost. I’m going to get it too, or all of you will die.”

  Andrea tried. “Brad... Is it really worth it? Just because I wouldn’t date you-”

  He sliced the gun through the air. “You think that’s what this is about? I could care less about you. You lost me my job. How am I supposed to live?” As he talked, he advanced, until he loomed above her.

  It took every ounce of strength not to cower away. His eyes held a mania, a light she didn’t understand. If the Brad she knew was in there anywhere, she doubted she could reach him. This man was unhinged and on a mission. She didn’t think he would stop until he got what he wanted.

  David asked again. “What do you want, then?”

  Brad swung around to him. “Money. And I knew Deacon has plenty to give.”

  Andrea tried appealing to Jack, sensing he was the weakest link of the two. “Jack, are you sure you want to do this? You’ll lose Benton if you do.”

  He flinched, but other than that, showed no outward sign of distress. “I’m already dead to my son.”

  “I don’t think that. I think he cares a lot about you. He just thinks you only want money out of him.”

  Jack pulled a hand through his graying hair. “I don’t have anyone else, so...”

  Sensing she was chipping away at his armor, Andrea leaned forward. “If you just talked to him-”

  Brad slammed his palm down on the table. “Enough!” Swinging around, he shoved a finger into Jack’s chest. “If you don’t have the balls to do this, then get out of here.”

  Jack closed his eyes, as if gathering himself. When they opened again, his expression fell flat, eyes like one-way glass. Andrea knew whatever chance she might hold was gone.

  “You don’t want to do this,” Grace tried.

  Brad whirled around, pinning her with his burning gaze. “Don’t tell me what I want to do, lady.”

  Though she remained silent, Grace lifted her chin. Andrea felt pride at her mother’s lack of fear.

  Pulling a phone from his pocket, Brad shoved it at Andrea. “You’re going to call your boss. Tell him I want $5 million, or you all die.”

  The phone felt foreign and cold in her hand. She started to dial, hesitated, and set the phone down on the table. “No.”

  Brad’s expression shifted, lips drawing into a snarl, eyes vicious. “Oh? So you want to condemn your parents to death? Let’s see how you feel when you watch your mother in pain.”

  Quickly, he lashed out, grabbing Grace by the hair and pulling her from her chair. Her father immediately rose, only to have the gun shoved in his chest. Andrea felt fear grip her heart like ice. She couldn’t let anything happen to her parents. This was the first time since she arrived that she wished Benton would hurry up and get here.

  “Please, Brad, let her go. I’ll call,” she added, punching in Deacon’s number.

  Brad let Grace go, and David pulled her into his arms, stroking her head. She could tell her father hated the helpless feeling. She knew he wanted to do something, anything. She could feel his muscles coiling next to her, ready to launch.

  Touching her hand to his shoulder while the phone rang, she shook her head. If anything happened to either of her parents...

  “Brad, please. Let my parents go. I’ll go with you wherever you want.”

  Her mother leaned around her father. “Andy, no!”

  She could see Brad considering it. He remained silent, gun still pointed at her parents.

  On the other end of the phone, she heard Deacon’s greeting. “Hello, Cross residence.”

  “Deacon.” She was proud her voice only held a brief tremor.

  “Andrea! You shouldn’t have run off the way you did. Ben-”

  Not wanting to alert Brad to Benton’s impending arrival, she interrupted Deacon. “Please, I know. I’m sorry. Listen. Brad’s here. He wants-”

  Brad jerked the phone from her. “Hello Deacon.”

  Andrea couldn’t hear her boss’ response. As Brad’s brows drew together, and his lips pulled into another snarl, she thought he must not like the reply.

  “If you want Andrea and her parents back in one piece, you’ll send your guard dog with $5 million.” He listened a moment. “There isn’t anything he can do. I’ll kill them all before he even touches me.”

  Brad wasn’t looking at them. Distracted, he spun the gun in his hand, half-turning toward the stove. Smoke drifted from the pan, bacon shriveling into blackened strings. He must have noticed, because he reached for the stove to turn it off.

  Swallowing hard, Andrea knew it was now or never. She rocketed from the chair so swiftly, that it fell to the floor with an abnormally loud clatter. She hit Brad hard in the side, shoving him into the stove. The phone fell from his hand as he cursed, grip tightening on the gun. But she had underestimated Jack’s involvement. The other man stepped in, grabbing her arms and pulling her away from Brad.

  Her father was on his feet. “Andy!”

  Brad pointed the gun at him, bending to get the phone, eyes never leaving the table this time. Stalking toward her, he kept the gun trained on her parents. She could hear Deacon’s exclamations from the phone, but not understand them. Struggling against Jack’s hold, she stepped back, thinking of her self-defense moves. He held her loosely, obviously not seeing her as much of a threat.

  Twisting her wrist to break his hold on one arm, she flung her elbow back and caught him in the chest. He grunted, letting go of her captive arm. Spinning, she kneed him in the crotch and shoved him into Brad. The two men collided, ramming into the counter.

  She screamed to her parents. “Run!”

  They made it through the doorway and to the living room, a bullet splintering the archway behind them. If they could reach the front door, and run into the street... Another bullet whizzed past them, shattering the television screen.

  “Next bullet goes in one of you if you don’t stop!”

  She wanted to keep running. But she didn’t want her parents to get shot. Changing directions, she ran to the mantle, hearing Brad screaming something behind her. Grasping the antique clock, she spun, hurling it at Brad and Jack. The clock hit Brad in the shoulder, but it didn’t stop him. It only seemed to enrage him. He shot a hole in the wall. Reaching her, he grasped her hair and dragged her to the floor.

  Wincing against the pain, she lashed her leg out.

  “I’ve had it with this bitch!”

  He kicked her, the point of his shoe stabbing into her ribs. The breath left her body in a single whoosh, leaving her gasping for air as she curled into a ball.

  “Andy!” Her father.

  “Don’t move or I shoot her in the head.”

  She felt the press of the barrel against her skull. At some point, Brad tossed the phone to Jack. Through the haze of pain, she heard him talking to Deacon.

  “Stand up!” She felt h
is fingers curl into her hair. He jerked her to her feet. She stumbled, and he slapped her across the face. The tang of blood filled her mouth, and she teetered backward. Arms came around her, and she smelled the familiar sent of her father’s Old Spice.

  “Don’t touch her again.” David’s tone was low and lethal.

  “What’re you going to do about it? I have the gun.”