“Are we good if that’s the case?” I ask him.
“We’re good,” Mason answers. “I have to say, considering what’s going on, I’m intrigued.”
“Intrigued is a word for it, I guess.”
The waitress saunters over with a beer, setting it down with a smile and I thank her, although I didn’t order it.
“I got you an IPA, seasonal.”
“Thanks, man,” I tell him gratefully, but I don’t touch the tall glass sitting right in front of me. I take off my coat and hang it over the unused chair to my left as the waitress pulls out her notepad and a pen. She’s a skinny little thing, which makes her look even younger than she probably is.
“Welcome to Murray’s,” she says evenly. Her top’s unbuttoned a little too much and the way a blush colors her cheeks as she looks at us makes what she’s thinking more than obvious.
“Can I get you guys anything?” She bites down on her lip and Mason raises a brow at me.
“Not me,” I tell him and lean back in my seat, not looking back at the broad and risking leading her on.
He waves her off politely. “We’ll just grab the drinks from the bar,” he tells her and her smile falls. She seems to falter, and she clears her throat.
“Sure, if you need anything …” she says and shrugs, “just let me know.”
“So, how you been?” I ask him as the pretty little blonde walks off.
“Better now,” he tells me.
“I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
He readjusts in his seat, making it groan, and looks away as he takes a long swig of his beer.
“I know it’s got to suck either way.” I choose my words carefully. Word is Mason killed him. Shot him dead. Still, it’s his father and I don’t know for a fact that Mason really wanted him gone. There was tension between them and rumors they were at odds, but I don’t have a firm grasp on the truth when it comes to that situation.
“Yeah,” he says without looking me in the eyes. “Thanks, but let’s cut the small talk. It’s not often I get a call from you.”
I nod and crack my knuckles one by one with my thumb as I look out the window, scanning the streets. “I think I need to hire someone,” I tell him.
“You’re going to need to be a little more specific than that,” he replies.
“There’s a guy,” I say then pause and lean in closer, resting my elbow on the table and moving my hand so that my fingers cover my mouth as I talk. Just in case someone’s watching and trying to lip-read.
“He tried to kill me.” I blurt out my theory. “Tony wasn’t supposed to die. It was meant for me.”
“You’re still doing coke?” he asks as he eyes me then takes a drink from his glass.
“Not in years, but he didn’t know that. It would hurt my reputation if the clients thought I was clean, you know?”
“That’s what I thought. I was just asking ’cause that means whoever went for you doesn’t really know you.”
“I think it’s my boss.”
“Wouldn’t he know?” he questions and for a moment a tinge of insecurity washes over me.
“He never really asked. He doesn’t ask any questions so long as the clients are happy.”
“All right.” He tilts his head slightly and lowers his voice. “So, why does he want you dead?” Mason asks.
“It was years ago,” I start to tell him and feel sick to my stomach. “I fucked his wife. Before I married Kat.”
Mason’s eyes assess me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m lying.
“I’ve never cheated on her,” I say, talking louder than I should and in response to my raised voice, Mason looks to his right.
I lick my lips and calm my racing heart.
“He wants to scare her, so he went after me to prove what he could do to her. That no one’s safe from him.”
“But you gave Tony the blow?”
I nod my head once, the memory of his dead eyes looking through me flashing in front of me and sending a chill down my spine. “With the stuff James left in the room for me.”
“So, your boss, James? You want him dead? You want to prove he did it, frame him, what do you want?”
“You have a fucking menu?” I joke with him to lessen the tension in my body.
An asymmetrical grin forms on his face.
“I don’t do anything. I’m not involved in any of the process.”
My body feels heavier with his words.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t still have connections,” he adds and I nod. “So, for a friend, what is it that you want?”
“Three things,” I tell him. “First, your lawyer.”
“That’s a given. He’s already on retainer in case they take you in again.”
“Second, someone to watch Kat. I need her safe.”
“Is he after her?”
“He might know that I know, and I can’t risk her safety.” He merely nods and I add, “I can’t lose her. I’ll fucking lose it, man.”
“The safest place for her is distance. Well, anywhere fucking away from you.”
“I know … I know.”
“Good thing you’re separated, huh?”
“She tell Jules that?” I ask him as dread races through my blood. Before I can tell him we’re not, and that there’s no way I’m leaving her, he laughs at me.
“Jules tells me everything. I know the papers got it wrong.”
“I’m not leaving her; I’m just protecting her. There’s a difference.”
“If you want the world to think you’re broken up,” he says, “then you need to treat her like you are.”
“I don’t know if I can treat her like that. She’s pregnant.”
“I heard.” He lifts his beer in a mock cheers. “Congrats on that, man … but doesn’t that make it even more important not to risk anything happening to her?”
“Don’t make me feel worse than I already do.” My words are bitter and my heart sinks. “How long’s it going to take?” I ask him to get back to the point.
“To dig up dirt, plant evidence, figure out how to kill the guy … it could be a while.”
“I don’t have a while,” I bite back. “Every day is a day I have to put her through this.”
“There are worse things you could do.”
“I can’t lose her,” I tell him and he nods in understanding.
“I’ll watch her myself,” he offers and a small sense of peace relaxes me, but only a fraction of the way.
I rub my eyes with the back of my hand and finally pick up the beer on the table.
“If anything happens to her …”
“Nothing’s going to happen to her,” he reassures me before asking, “What’s the third thing?”
I look him in the eye and tell him, “I want him to go to jail for what he did. Whether you get real evidence or have to create some. And if that’s not possible, I want James Lapour dead.”
Chapter 11
Kat
“I thought you were taking time off?”
I didn’t even hear Sue come in. I glance at the clock in the upper right of my computer screen. It’s already five o’clock and time for our dinner date. The girls are taking turns keeping me occupied. It’s almost like they’re babysitting me and if it was anyone else, I’d hate it.
But I can never turn down a date with Suzette.
“You of all people should know that working is all I’m good for.” My voice comes out flat although I meant it to be funny. God, I’m tired. I’m always tired now even though I’m finally starting to sleep like the dead.
I guess the first trimester of pregnancy will do that to you.
“Oh honey, have you not looked at your shoe collection recently?” she asks, quirking a brow. “You’re good for so much more than work.”
I stand up slowly, feeling every muscle stretch with a sweet ache as I do and grin at her. “Ha-ha,” I say sarcastically, but the smile on my lips is genuine.
“So, what place tonight?�
� she asks as she turns on a lamp in the corner and settles into the one comfy chair in the room… which isn’t even the desk chair.
“Order in takeout, getting pretty and hitting the town?” she suggests then takes her scarf off and looks around the office.
She doesn’t even give me a chance to answer her before practically scolding me. “Why the hell haven’t you decorated this room?”
I shrug as I follow her gaze. I have a bookshelf in the back, but all the books are still in boxes on the floor.
“Just not a priority,” I answer her honestly. “I look at the screen more than anything anyway.”
“It’s like your décor inspiration was a depressing cubicle.”
I snort at her response, but it makes me laugh so hard.
“Maddie should focus on redecorating in here before planning a baby shower.”
I don’t think the remark was meant to be taken seriously, but I actually love the idea. “I should tell her. I’d like that.”
Twisting the scarf around her hand, she crosses her legs. “I’m sure she’d love to.”
“Well, actually. I totally forgot to tell you, but I may move in with Jules for a little while so Maddie could really go to town.”
Cocking a brow at me, Sue leans forward with her mouth a bit more open than it should be before she says, “You sure you want to be around to hear them when they … enjoy their newlywed activities? I feel like that’s the number one concern here.”
I roll my eyes. “It was Mason’s suggestion, so I’m sure he …” Ugh. The thought of them doing it in the room next to me is a thought I’d rather not picture.
“I get it,” Sue says, sensing exactly what was on my mind. “You shouldn’t be alone, though. Not when you have so many people who love you.”
I shut down my computer and give her a tight smile. “That’s basically what Jules said.”
She adds, “Good. Because you’re not alone, and there’s no reason you should feel it right now.”
Today’s been so much better than the last few and Sue’s sweetness threatens to change that. “Damn it, Sue, stop it,” I admonish her and shake off the unwanted emotions as they creep up on me. “I’m fine.”
“I know you are!” she says, pushing herself up from the seat. “And that’s why we’re going to go out and go somewhere fabulous.”
My phone dings on the desk, indicating a text as I start to tell Sue that I don’t really think I want to go out.
Holding back a yawn, I cautiously look at the message. I’ve had four texts today already. Each from a gossip column editor wanting a statement or my reaction to the recent events. Evan’s been spotted with Samantha again and the rumor mill is churning with tales of scandal.
They can go screw themselves. I believe that was my response to each of the columnists. Probably not the best quote I’ve ever given. He promised he wouldn’t see her. I guess I got my sign.
“You okay?” Sue asks, and I nod when I see it’s a text from Henry this time.
He messages me almost every other day, which makes the fact that Evan hasn’t bothered to call me back that much harder to take.
“Just Evan’s dad. Wanting to drop by with some lemons.”
“Lemons?” she questions.
“He said they helped Marie when she was pregnant and nauseated.”
“But you aren’t …” Sue trails off with a hint of confusion.
“I know!” I answer jokingly as I text Henry, Thank you, but I’m fine. Really it’s sweet of you but I’m not nauseated. I wonder if I should ask him how Evan is. Where he is. Or anything at all.
Before I can, he answers that he wants to meet for lunch soon.
“You know, he’s really sweet,” I tell Sue, feeling guilty and torn about what to do.
“So, that’s where his son got his charm from then?” Sue asks sarcastically then mouths she’s sorry when she sees I’m not amused.
“I’ll just tell him I will, but I can always bail,” I reason out loud as if I need her approval.
“Yeah, that’s a good way to handle it.” She nods with pursed lips then looks me up and down. “You should probably put real clothes on.”
“How fancy?” I ask her, setting the phone down as I realize I’m still in sweats and a baggy T-shirt.
“Let’s go fancy, fancy.” I hope she can see how the thought of getting prettied up makes me perk up. I could really use a night out, feeling beautiful and carefree. I’ll just pretend I don’t feel like falling asleep at the table.
“Fancy-pantsing it up tonight?” I ask, already feeling better than I did before she got here.
“You know it.”
Chapter 12
Evan
All I can focus on are his tells.
You learn them fast in the line of business that led me to this moment. The sweat on his brow. The way his right foot won’t stay still. His dilated pupils and quick breathing.
He’s one of two things: high as a fucking kite, or going through withdrawal.
Judging by the look on this prick’s face, James Lapour is fiending for his next hit.
I peek over my shoulder. His office is on the first floor. There are apartments above us and plenty of witnesses in case some shit goes down. More importantly, just outside those doors is Mason, sitting in his car and waiting for me in case I need him.
I’ve got two goals in coming here like this.
Warn him to back the fuck off.
Get any evidence I can.
Seeing as how he’s in his office, goal number two will have to wait unless I can get a confession. The tape recorder in my pocket is already running.
It takes everything in me to keep my hate down, but the memory of Kat from my night terrors is all I can see. I can’t sleep; I can’t do anything without thinking about losing her. It’s as if my sanity is steadily eroding. Blinking away the image of her, I prepare to do what I have to. For her. For us. All I want is for this to be done and over with, so I can be with her and be the man meant to stand beside her.
I walk into the office, the wooden floor beneath my oxfords creaking eerily as I do. I’ve been standing outside the open door watching him for a few minutes. He didn’t change the locks and there’s no one else here on a late Wednesday night. Just him and me. Well, not quite, there are a few broads in the far back. I can hear them from here. Maybe they’re waiting for him with exactly what he needs. I wouldn’t be surprised.
“Taking a break from the snow?”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he sneers at me, ripping his red-rimmed eyes away from the computer screen. With the city lights peeking through the drawn blinds, the room is bathed in a diffuse glow. It’s darker than I’d like it to be in here with only the lamp on his desk illuminating the space.
“What I really want to know is, why?” The question leaves me coldly as I stalk closer to him.
“Why what?” he asks me, leaning back in his seat and I can faintly hear him pulling out a drawer, ever so slowly.
Racking the slide on the gun in my hand, I raise it slowly. “Uh, uh, uh,” I reprimand him. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve aimed a gun at someone. I’ve never wanted to pull the trigger more, though. “I wouldn’t do anything stupid if I were you.”
He raises his hands slowly, cocking his head and letting out a sick laugh. “So, you here to kill me now? Is that it?”
“I should, shouldn’t I?”
“For what, exactly? Spit it out, you coward,” he scoffs at me. His eyes appear nearly black with the lack of light.
“I’m the coward?” The ridicule comes complete with an arched brow. I have to be careful with the loaded gun. My anger is putting me on edge, the adrenaline in my veins pumping hard and every second that passes makes my body temperature go up just a little more.
One of the girls from the back room yells out, “You all right in there?” in response to my raised voice.
Before I can respond, James answers her. “Just stay where you are.” Good
old James, he knows how to talk to the ladies.
“What do you want, Evan?” he questions, slowly placing his hands palm down on the desk.
His arm twitches and I can tell he’s fucked up.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask in return. “You’re not looking so good.”
“You look pretty fucked yourself,” he spits out without wasting a second and forces a smile to his face.
“We saw you watching,” I say, offering him a small piece of the puzzle.
“Watching what?”
“At Rockefeller Center.”
“Is that so?” I hate this game. This back-and-forth where no real information is given. “And what exactly was I watching?” he asks with a smirk on his face although I can see in his eyes he’s curious.
I shrug and say, “Doesn’t matter, does it? What I want to know is what you plan on doing.”
He laughs abruptly, deeply and from his gut, but any trace of happiness is immediately replaced with pain. He nearly doubles over and I raise the gun again, my heart beating hard as I prepare for him to come up with a weapon.
He doesn’t, though, and when he sees the gun aimed right between his eyes, he forces his hands to the desk again.
“You stop doing coke? I guess Tony told you it was bad for you,” I say flatly, swallowing thickly as my hands sweat and the gun feels heavier.
He groans an answer I can’t hear then winces again.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You got the shakes?”
“Fuck you,” he manages to get out as his eyes shut.
“You paranoid now? Worried someone’s going to do to you what you tried to do to me?”
He opens his eyes slowly, the light shining from the lamp creating shadows on his face. “The fuck are you talking about?”
“The coke you laced. You scared someone’s going to do the same to you? Give you what you have coming?”
“It was from my personal stash, you prick.”
I almost call him a liar, I almost tell him to shove it and put a bullet in his chest, so I can get back to Kat and end this shit. But the look on his face stops me.
You Know I Need You: Book 2, You Know Me duet (You Are Mine Duets 4) Page 7
