McGyver

by Candace Blevins

  Iris looked back to her father. “Danny’s being more mature about this than you. This doesn’t have to be a competition. I love you both. Maybe he isn’t what you wanted for me, but I’ve already told you the guys you want for me are all pretentious assholes I’m not interested in spending five minutes with.”

  “And if I change things around, so your trust fund goes to charity instead of to you, unless you break it off with him?”

  Her insides shook, but she didn’t even pause to take a breath. “Then I’ll have to survive without a trust fund. Other women manage it, I’m sure I’ll figure it out. I’ve worked out a budget, based on what I made the first month I monetized my social media platforms. I’ll be able to rent a nice apartment, purchase a dependable car, and pay my bills. Most of the designers I prefer will likely work a deal to provide clothes in exchange for me wearing and naming them, but if they don’t, I’ll still be okay. One or two photo shoots a year should pay for my clothes and shoes habit.”

  He seemed surprised, but he met the stylist’s gaze and reminded her, “You signed a nondisclosure agreement, and you came highly recommended. I trust I will never see this conversation made public?”

  “Of course not, sir.”

  He looked back to Iris. “We’ll talk later — once I’ve had some time to get to know your soul mate.”

  He was trying to belittle the term, but Iris didn’t care. She looked at Danny. “I love you. Thank you for trying.”

  “Anything for you, Blueberry. I hear the attorney in the hallway.”

  “I just need another thirty seconds,” the stylist said while she ran the iron over the tress at an angle, so it curled. “Grab the mirror and tell me what you think. I looked through your online selfies before I came, and tried to match your normal hairstyle.”

  A mirror hung from the side of the little cart, and Iris retrieved it and took a look. She’d done a great job, and Iris watched her expertly work a few more sections in the back.

  The stylist put the flat iron in the holder on the cart. “That’s it. I’m done. It’ll take me about three minutes to pack up and get out of here. Thank you for trusting me to do your hair. I hope you feel better soon.”

  “Do I look as if I don’t feel good?” She thought she’d been hiding it.

  “I could tell when you stood after breakfast, and then when you sat. You’re holding yourself as if you hurt. Your face doesn’t give it away, but I could tell.”

  “Yeah. I’m stiff. Thanks again for your help.”

  She went to the restroom, touched up her contour, added some eyeliner, and looked at herself in the mirror. She needed to run. The first mile would hurt, but then it would get better.

  Or it would get worse. You never knew until you had the first mile behind you.

  And she didn’t know what to think of her father. Had he been serious about holding her trust fund hostage, or was he testing the waters? She didn’t know, but she wasn’t turning her back on Danny.

  The next three hours were emotionally draining — time with the attorney, and then with the FBI agents. They needed the entire story, and then they needed it again, and then they needed to ask a bajillion questions that basically made her tell it again while she reminded them, over and over, she’d been blindfolded and didn’t know more than she’d told them. The attorney stepped in and stopped them a few times, but he mostly let them run the interview.

  Danny stood at the edge of the room as if he were security, and they didn’t question him. They’d seen him holding her the day before, so she assumed they’d treat him as her boyfriend, but they didn’t.

  When they finally left, Kenny and Ranger stepped into the room with her dad’s lead bodyguard and outlined how they’d get out of the hotel and into the car.

  While boarding the plane, she overheard Ranger telling Danny they were being dropped off in Chattanooga, and Aaron had made arrangements for the luggage Brain had brought to be put on the plane while they were stopped.

  Her father usually handled introductions, but since he didn’t seem inclined to, she introduced Danny to the pilot, copilot, and flight attendants. Her father’s assistant had arranged for an inflight meal of steaks, baked potatoes, and some kind of vegetable medley, so at least part of the flight would be occupied with something to do.

  They sat in the luxurious recliners, managed the seat belts, and she told Danny, “It’s still hard for me to believe you’re going to see my house. My father had two castle turrets built onto the house when I was a toddler, specifically so he could put my bedroom in the top of one of them, because princesses are supposed to live in castles.” She sighed. “It isn’t all pink and frilly anymore, but it’s still in the turret.”

  “I’ve been informed I’ll be in a guest room, and not your room, but that’s fine. I look forward to seeing your home, though.”

  She couldn’t be too upset with her father for this. Sure, she was a grown woman, but he had a right to expect she wouldn’t have sex in his house.

  She hadn’t forgiven him for trying to pay Danny to vamoose, though.

  “Is it okay for you to be gone? The MC depends on you for geeky stuff, right?”

  “Brain offered to rewrite the schedule for the week before I asked. It’s fine.”

  Her father stopped by their seats. “I’m going to get some work done in the office. I’ll come out when they serve dinner, so we can eat together. I’ll see you soon.”

  The flight was uneventful, even with the brief stop in Chattanooga. As always, a car was waiting for them when they landed in Birmingham, and they were whisked home from the airport. Danny made sure his suitcase made it into the trunk. Kelsey had gotten Iris’s schoolbooks and laptop to Brain, and they were supposed to be in Danny’s luggage, too. She’d taken her Chromebook to class, and goodness only knew where it’d ended up. Her laptop was huge and she didn’t usually take it places, but she’d need to do her schoolwork on something.

  Iris saw her house through Danny’s eyes while she showed it to him — she hadn’t realized just how big it was compared to other homes. He was obviously intrigued when she didn’t take him down a hallway, and she didn’t really want to explain, but it was clear she’d have to.

  “It’s the other turret. I’ve never been in it. My mom used to spend time there, sometimes. It’s always been off-limits to me.”

  He walked down the hallway and she followed. “Danny, no! It’s off limits!”

  Much to her surprise, a guard was posted at the stairway, and he didn’t look happy.

  “As Miss Wendel informed you, this area of the residence isn’t open to guests.”

  “Or residents either, it would appear.”

  Thankfully, Danny followed her outside, so she could show him the grounds, and he seemed much happier walking the gardens than he’d been inside.

  Then they made it to the garage, and Danny spent an hour talking to the garage manager. Her father eventually walked out and joined the conversation, and even let Danny sit in a few of his prized antique cars.

  She hoped this week would help her father see how much he had in common with Danny. Lots of differences, too, but both men were uber-alpha males with above average intelligence. They enjoyed guns, cars, and whiskey — and probably other things yet to be determined.

  Iris loved them both, but if she had to choose, Danny would win.

  She desperately hoped she wouldn’t have to choose.

  “I’m going for a run,” she told them. “If the first mile makes me worse instead of better, I’ll stop, otherwise I’ll keep going.”

  “I’ll run with you,” Danny told her. “Harmony was supposed to pack some running shoes.”

  At her father’s look, Iris explained, “Harmony is Brain’s wife, and Danny and Brain are close.”

  “Enjoy your run. I hope you’ll join me for a swim tomorrow morning before breakfast. I have a meeting I can handle via video chat at ten, but otherwise, I’ve been able to clear my schedule for the day.”

  “I�
��d love a morning swim, but I only got a few hours’ sleep last night and I hope to be able to sleep in tomorrow. Can we play the timing by ear? If I wake early, I’ll let you know, otherwise, maybe we can swim after your meeting?”

  He nodded, and she headed out of the garage. Danny stayed behind and she slowed to listen to him thank her father and the garage manager for showing him the cars.

  When he caught up with her, she asked him, “We have an indoor pool. Will you join us?”

  “I didn’t think to have Harmony pack swim trunks.”

  “We keep them in a variety of sizes. I’m sure we’ll have something that’ll fit.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want some time alone with your dad? I don’t mind bowing out for a few things.”

  “I want the two of you to get to know each other.”

  “Okay then. I’ll be there. Just tell me where and when. I don’t remember seeing an indoor pool in your tour.”

  She sighed. “Yeah, I skipped the section with the pool and bowling alley.” And the wing with the ballroom. “It just seems… I don’t know. Over the top, sometimes. I love having them, but…” She gave an uncomfortable shrug. She’d learned not to apologize for being rich, but sometimes it was still embarrassing.

  “Your shoulders aren’t up for bowling yet, but I assume you’re good at it?”

  She stopped in the rear entry foyer, since she’d go one direction and Danny would go the other. “Decent. I’m going to change clothes. I have a running path on the grounds. Meet you on the front porch in thirty minutes?”

  McGyver found his way to his bedroom — which he’d noted was about as far from Iris’s bedroom as possible.

  His mind wandered to the other turret. He was intrigued, but he didn’t plan to go snooping. Security was serious with over one hundred cameras outside — at least five on each door and window large enough for a human, including the ones on the upper floors. He’d found a few in the public areas of the house as well — foyers, hallways, servant areas, and the kitchen and pantry.

  And at least four in the hallway leading to the turret.

  He clenched his jaw at the memory of the scents he’d picked up in that hall. Sex. Lots of sex. Iris’s father wasn’t being honest with his daughter, who thought he was still pining for his dead wife. Instead, he had some kind of sex slave in his castle turret.

  But McGyver wasn’t getting in the middle of that. Nothing about the smells had signified someone needed or wanted to be rescued, so it wasn’t any of his business.

  He changed and met Iris in the front of the house, and then leaned against a wall to watch her stretch. She was taller than any other woman he’d ever been with, and those long, lean lines made him want to lean her over the railing and have his way with her.

  But she wasn’t up to it yet, after her kidnapping. Plus, he was trying not to piss her father off on purpose.

  She took off running without telling him, but he quickly caught up and met her pace. She surprised him, taking off with those long legs at a speed he hadn’t expected. He fell into step with her and paid attention to her pulse, breathing, and scent. She was hurting at first, but a half-mile in, she caught her stride and seemed better. By the time they’d covered what he estimated to be a mile, she’d sped up and he scented exhilaration. His Blueberry enjoyed running. It was rare a human loved to run as much as his wolf.

  Her trail ran through forest, came out in a meadow, looped around a pond, and went back into the forest. He spotted more cameras, and heard heartbeats at a distance a few times — most likely guards making sure no one was on the property.

  She made a sharp right perhaps three miles in, and his wolf told him they were circling back.

  “How much acreage does the house sit on?”

  “I don’t know. Never thought to ask. Why are you not at all out of breath?” She wasn’t gasping for air, but she was winded.

  He wasn’t sure what kind of listening devices their security team had, so he didn’t tell her it was a wolf thing. “I’m good, Blueberry.”

  She didn’t talk again until they returned to the house, and she stopped to do some yoga. When she’d stretched before, he’d smelled her pain, so while he’d admired her lean, long lines and wished he could have his way with her, he hadn’t had to fend off a hard-on.

  This time, she was warmed up and happy after her run, and he had to readjust himself and will his cock soft.

  She didn’t look up from her stretching to talk. “Usually, people tell me they want to run with me, and then a quarter mile in I’m having to tell them how to get back to the house without me. You hung in and you aren’t even breathing hard!”

  “Whatever you need from me, I’m there. Remember?”

  “Yeah. You keep saying it, and you keep doing it.”

  “I’d like to check in online. Take the temperature again. My guestroom has an en suite bathroom, so I’ll get a shower and then take my laptop… where? I’m assuming your dad won’t want you in my room.”

  “The downstairs media room. Can you find it from your room?”

  “It was just down the hallway from the naked mermaid fountain, right?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Leave it to you to navigate by the statue with tits, but yeah.”

  As it turned out, he made a wrong turn and ended up at the base of the other turret, only to find a different guard standing in front of the open staircase.

  And, as before, the entire area smelled of sex. Not the sweet vanilla kind, but rough sex. The heartbeat in the room above was from a small person. Not necessarily a child, but if he had to guess, he’d say between ninety and a hundred pounds. He nodded to the guard, made his way outside to the courtyard, and navigated to the naked mermaid fountain from a known point.

  The house was ridiculously huge.

  McGyver had to admit Wendel did everything exactly right to make his daughter’s boyfriend feel outwardly welcome, though they both knew the old man didn’t want him there.

  Still, he sat with them through a movie in their theater, ate a late snack with them, and then was up to swim early the next morning. The family released a few public statements, but Iris only made two more posts to her social media account — both focusing on those killed and injured, instead of herself. McGyver knew how much their deaths were tearing her up inside, and he wished he could help her deal with it.

  The pictures showing the angry red and purple zip-tie marks on her wrists had softened the anger against her, and her father’s team had already jumped into action to offer generous settlement checks to everyone injured, along with scholarships to complete their education. He also had his attorney in touch with those who’d lost loved ones, wanting to settle with them as quickly as possible. All of this without admitting fault, of course, but McGyver understood why. It was distasteful, but understandable.

  McGyver was surprised to see a fundraiser gala scheduled for the weekend, with proceeds going towards medical expenses of those injured and funeral expenses of those killed. Tickets were expensive, but he got one for him and Iris. He assumed her father intended to take Iris, but since no one had mentioned it to him, and since the website was clear they were only selling two hundred and fifty tickets and then they were gone, he figured it made sense for him to make sure he and his Blueberry could attend as a couple.

  Why hadn’t Wendel told them about it? Surely, if Iris knew, she’d have mentioned it.

  His conclusion was that Iris’s father wanted to spring it on them at the last possible moment — before McGyver would have a chance to get the proper clothing. It wasn’t a black-tie event, so this wasn’t the kind of suit one rented. No, it would be high-dollar suits for men, and fancy dresses for women. Thankfully, McGyver was in possession of a custom-made suit he’d paid more for than a few of his bikes. He wasn’t worried.

  To his credit, Brock Wendel was personally matching all donations towards funeral expenses and medical bills of those affected by the explosion on campus.

  He texted the inf
ormation to Iris, along with a picture of the ties Harmony had packed. I bought tickets. Are we supposed to match, or not match, or what? I’ll trust you to know that part. These are my tie options

  Wear the lavender. Matching isn’t expected, but I have a deep plum dress I think will nicely compliment your tie. I wonder why Daddy didn’t talk to us about this

  Instead of explaining it to her, he merely texted, I’m sure he has his reasons. Get back to your schoolwork. I’m going for another run

  His run with Iris had reminded him how badly his wolf needed to be let out. It wasn’t going to happen here, but a faster, longer run would help.

  Wendel met him at the side door when he returned, which told McGyver he’d asked security to let him know when their unwanted houseguest was headed back.

  “Your club runs a whorehouse.”

  “You been talking to the cops?”

  “You don’t deny it?”

  “I’m not confirming or denying anything, Mr. Wendel. You’re going to believe the worst of me no matter what I do. There’s nothing I can do about that, but I’m through defending myself. I’m aware of what the police believe, but none of the arrests have ever stuck, which should tell you something.”

  “If I throw enough money at the problem, I’m sure I can change that.”

  “I would ask how much energy you’re willing to put into making your daughter miserable, but I’m afraid I already know the answer. Would you like for me to leave? I’ve already purchased a ticket for myself and Iris for the charity event, so I’m assuming I’ll be allowed to pick her up for it even if I’m asked to find other accommodations.”

  “I’m not asking you to leave. Also, I arranged for your tickets when my assistant organized the event. You should’ve checked with me before buying them. I’ll have my assistant handle a refund.”

  “No, sir. With respect, why don’t you give those tickets to someone else, and we’ll enter with the ones I bought.”

  He’d emailed the information to Brain, who’d told him a little of the etiquette for these events. He’d also offered a ten-thousand-dollar check from the RTMC, but McGyver would need to talk to Iris about that. Did she want it known her date was a biker? Or should McGyver write a personal check, on top of buying the tickets? Brain had said most everyone of means would be writing checks on top of what they paid to attend.