by Kahlen Aymes
“Alex, you haven’t mentioned it in a few weeks, but we’re still on track with that London acquisition, aren’t we?”
Alex flushed. “It’s sort of taken a back burner, but I’ll work on it this week.”
“Did you forget we’re supposed to close the deal in two weeks? You told me a month ago it had to be done by the middle of this month.”
“No, I didn’t forget,” he lied. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I expect you to be there to finalize everything.”
He didn’t feel like arguing, but going to England was the last thing Alex wanted to do. If the issues with Angel weren’t resolved before then, he knew it would make him nuts. He didn’t relish being so far away when everything was a cluster-fuck with an uncertain outcome. Even with Bancroft and Cole watching her around the clock, his gut told him to stay close.
As father and son left the upscale restaurant, Alex reached for his phone. Cole was supposed to check in every couple of hours, and he’d been tied up with his father for more than three. Although he hated to admit it to himself, he was also hoping to see a message from Angel. He chastised himself for being such a pussy and quickly connected to his voicemail.
Hi, Alex. She’s at her office, and it’s been quiet. Nothing to report. The message was short and cryptic.
“Excuse me. Alexander Avery, isn’t it?’
The two men paused, and Alex’s eyes narrowed on the man attached to the voice. His back stiffened and something close to hatred slithered over his skin with agonizing slowness, making the hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand up.
“It is.” As if it needed confirmation. Alex turned to his father and extended his hand. “Dad, thanks for lunch. I’ll call you later.”
Charles glanced between the other two men, the tension between them more than obvious, and it was unlike Alex not to introduce him. He nodded and shook his son’s hand. “Sure.”
Alex buttoned the jacket of the black Gucci suit, a stark contrast to the white shirt and blood red of the silk tie he wore. “What can I do for you, Mr. Swanson?”
“Oh, so you know who I am?”
Alex’s lips thinned and he huffed. “Your reputation precedes you,” he replied.
“As does yours.”
“No doubt. This chitchat is nice, but I have obligations to attend to, so if you’ll excuse me?” Alex dismissed the other man but he put up a hand to stop him.
“Mr. Avery, we have things to discuss.”
Alex contemplated his next words carefully. “Really. Like what?” he asked dryly, wondering if the prick had the balls to mention Angel. The notion made his blood boil, and he’d be hard pressed to keep the control necessary not to rip the other man to shreds.
“I’m not stupid. I know what you’re doing.”
Alex felt his lip twitch, although he felt less than amused. “Then I guess that makes us even.” He turned and began walking out of the restaurant.
“Mr. Avery! We’re both good at negotiation. I’m sure we can come to a mutually agreeable solution.”
Alex turned and looked steadily at the man he’d come to hate. “I don’t negotiate with fuckers like you, and I doubt you could keep up, in any case. You may have missed it, but I’m not doing this because of your stellar business practices.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with. You’d be better served—”
Alex laughed harshly, interrupting abruptly. “I know exactly who I’m dealing with. Exactly.” His tone was harder than iron.
“You understand what I mean. Back off of my business! You don’t need more money.”
Did this asshole really think it was about money?
“If you knew who you were dealing with, you’d know I always finish what I start, and I make it a point to know my adversaries inside and out before taking them on. You’re a little greasier than most I deal with, I admit, but I have more resources and more connections than you dream about. Plus, I always win. If you were an honorable man, you could go about your meaningless life of dirty laundry, and I wouldn’t give a shit.” Alex’s chest tightened despite his outwardly calm demeanor. “But, since you’re slime, you’ll be lucky if you have enough left for a garage sale when I’m finished.”
“You’re not as infallible as you think you are, Avery; a fact which was illuminated while you were in Hawaii, I believe.” The older man watched the younger one’s muscles coil under the expensive suit, and satisfaction at Alex’s discomfort caused a wicked smile pulling his lips away from his teeth. “Dr. Hemming is less, shall we say, evasive than you… much more easily penetrated.” His emphasis on the word had Alex’s blood boiling. “So alluring and full of fire, hmm? It makes her vulnerable and even more attractive.”
Alex’s hands curled into tight fists. It was all he could do not to beat the smug look off Mark Swanson’s oily face. In three quick strides, he was a foot away from the other man. The scent of smoke that clung heavily on the other man’s breath and clothes assaulted him.
“Your so-called connections don’t give a fuck about you. You’re a bug, an annoyance that needs to be squashed. Nothing more. As for Angeline, touch her and I won’t be responsible for my actions. If you hurt her, I swear to God, you will beg for death.”
Alex turned, inhaling deeply at the same time, and stalked away from his enemy. His chest hurt, he was hotter than hell, and his skin was burning. He’d never experienced hate to the degree he felt it now. Right there in the middle of the restaurant, Alex wanted to kill Mark Swanson with his bare hands and damn the consequences.
* * *
“Huh! Huh!” Angel punched, and then attacked the bag with a round kick, followed by more punches. “Huh! Arrrrggggghhhhh!” She was out of breath; sweat plastered the tendrils that had worked their way out of her ponytail to the sides of her head. She could feel the moisture soaking through her sports bra and around the top of the yoga pants she was wearing. “Huh!” She kicked the bag again.
“Angel, I think that’s enough!” Becca let go of the bag and moved away. “You almost knocked me down. I think you’ve still got your groove on.”
Angel picked up a towel off the mat next to her and slung it around her neck, using the ends to wipe the perspiration off of her face. Her chest was still heaving as she shot Becca a disgusted look, took a long pull on her water bottle, and began walking off toward the locker room. “I sucked, Becca!” she said indignantly. “It’s been too long since I practiced. Don’t fucking placate me.”
Her friend sighed. Angel had been quiet all night, and when she did open her mouth, she complained about everything. “Look, Angel, you’re not as good as you were. Okay? But you’re already being a bitch tonight, so why would I want to make it worse, huh?” she asked loudly, her words bouncing off the tile walls of the locker room.
Angel kicked off her shoes and threw them in her locker and they landed with a loud thud. “I don’t have time for this shit. I have to take a shower and go to the station.”
“What the hell’s your problem? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re upset because Alex let you dump him. You didn’t bargain for that, did you?” She sat down on the wooden bench and watched Angel angrily strip her clothes off and wrap a towel around her. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”
“Shut up, Becca. See what I get for telling you about it. You know why I did it.”
“Yes, but it’s the dumbest thing you’ve done since I’ve known you. Why didn’t you just tell him the truth?”
“Because.” Angel felt her throat thicken, making it difficult to get the words out. All she wanted to do was disappear inside the shower where her tears would be invisible. “He wouldn’t have stayed away. He’d only get more involved. I told you because I needed someone to talk to. I shouldn’t have, and if I’d known how you’d bitch at me about it, I wouldn’t have! I don’t want to go over it again. I don’t want to think about Alex.”
“But he’s… him, Angel! A guy like that doesn’t roll over with
his legs in the air.”
“That’s the problem. I have to put this bastard away, and Alex would stand in my way. I don’t want to argue with him about it, and he might get hurt in the process. I couldn’t take that chance.”
“I think you should just leave this alone, Angel. It’s too dangerous. From what you’ve told me, this prick will stop at nothing.”
“Exactly the reason he has to be put away. For God’s sake! Not you, too! I shouldn’t have told you any of it! I needed someone to support me, Becca.”
“I will. I am! But, you’re in love with this guy. Why risk losing him?”
“I didn’t want to care about him,” Angel said weakly, picking up her shampoo and trying not to let Becca see her face. Her heart hurt and she wasn’t sure she could keep it off of her expression. “Long-term relationships are not Alex’s forte, and you can’t lose something you never had. This is for the best.”
“Who are you trying to convince?”
Angel ignored the other girl and left her on the bench. She yanked the shower curtain closed, letting the hot water rush over her hair and body, wishing it could wash all of her problems down the drain with it. She missed Alex more than she wanted to admit and ached for him to call. He didn’t. It had been almost two weeks and she hadn’t heard from him. Not once.
Her reports would go to the D.A.’s office next week, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the charges being dropped. Kenneth wouldn’t take a lost cause to court, and if the girl refused to face her attacker, that’s exactly what it was. What a fucking waste!
Angel leaned on folded arms against the tile wall, resting her head against them. She was exhausted, and not just because of the brutal workout she’d just subjected herself to. She wasn’t sleeping well at all; each night, her comforter and sheets wound up in a wad on the floor or tangled up at the foot of her bed. Even though her building was secure, it wasn’t more secure than Alex’s estate, so it was only a matter of time before Swanson and his band of thugs tried something. She was sure of it, but she didn’t know when or where. At the office, her apartment, the station, or the gym? It could be anywhere and she was always on edge. She’d even considered getting a gun, but her father had always said if you have a gun for protection, you better be prepared to use it or else it could be used against you.
The threats had been intermittent. One call on her cell phone threatening to kill her if she didn’t get Swanson off, but the voice was raspy and unrecognizable. She’d been ready to record any others, but all that followed were voicemail after voicemail of heavy breathing and creepy laughter. Always the number was restricted and couldn’t be traced. It was frustrating as hell. She stopped answering her phone when she didn’t recognize the number, but calls kept coming. If she didn’t know better, the situation would almost be comical. She got hate mail at her condo, and after the first one, she made sure to open them with latex gloves on and save them in a Ziploc bag. The fear was worst when she was alone at night. Despite the fact she wanted the prick to attack, she was scared to death and longed for the safety of Alex’s arms. He was always on her mind and that wasn’t good. She struggled to keep her wits about her and not let the overwhelming sadness distract her.
Being at the station late on Friday nights was a risk, not just for her, but for Christine, too. On her way through midtown, she called Darian.
“Can you be there for the show tonight?”
“No problem. I’ll meet you there.”
Angel’s brow furrowed. No questions? No complaints about missing boy’s night out? Again, Alex surfaced in her mind. “Thanks,” she replied into her phone. “No boy’s night tonight?” she asked; the lights of the Chicago night were a blur against her windows.
“Nope. Are you okay?”
“Erm… yeah? Why?” She wondered what Alex had told his best friend. Was he struggling as she was, or was he full of arrogant bravado, making it seem like she was just another casualty in the Alex Avery relationship train.
“Nothing. You sound different, and you’re asking me to be at the station. It’s weird. Are you feeling all right?”
“Not really. That’s why I thought you could be there for moral support. Plus, I haven’t seen you in weeks.”
Darian laughed. “Well, I’m flattered; although, since I haven’t seen much of Alex either, I figured the reason was obvious.”
Angel doubted that Darian was as ignorant as he was playing, but she didn’t want to discuss the subject. “Yeah. See you in a bit.”
* * *
“This is Angel After Dark on KKIS FM. Thanks for all of your calls and dedications. Love and peace until next week.”
Alex lay on his bed in the dark as he listened to her voice. The last words he’d hear from her mouth until her next broadcast. He’d itched to call her voicemail, just to hear her, but he resisted it at every turn.
He’d been staying at his apartment because it was closer to Angel, and Max was with his parents. Cole was firmly ensconced in her building now, and Bancroft had hired a few others to follow her around the clock. He let out a deep sigh. She’d probably scratch his eyes out if she knew, but at this point, he’d take any contact with her he could get.
After the confrontation with Swanson over lunch last week, he’d ramped everything up, even hiring security for himself and to watch Allison, Josh, and his parents. It was getting damn expensive, but it wouldn’t be much longer. Maybe a month before the business was bankrupt. The cocksucker had too many outstanding loans to avoid it with two more of the dry cleaners closed. That made five, in all. Alex bought the leases out on three more with eviction notices going out the same day he closed escrow. Step by step, he was getting it done, but he was impatient for it to be over.
It was all he could do not to hang out at Cole’s stakeout digs, but when he did, he only got a glimpse of Angel coming and going. There were privacy issues and legalities involved that prevented them from setting up cameras on the inside of anyone’s living space. And, he drove his brother crazy. It was agony being so close and not being able to talk to her or touch her. She was beautiful still, but she looked tired and skittish.
“Fuck!” he shouted into the lifeless room.
The satisfaction he got taking Swanson down was worthless with the way he felt. Did she really believe that things weren’t different with her? Hadn’t he held her in his arms when he told her? Hadn’t he made a big enough ass of himself over it?
Alex pushed off the bed and went to his liquor cabinet in the other room. Bancroft had assured him that two armed men would be near her at all times. Alex insisted on meeting them one by one and poured over each of their dossiers personally. Two of them were retired DEA agents, used to dealing with hardcore criminals, and another had been head of security at Bank of America. They didn’t come cheap, but you got what you paid for. At least he’d get some sleep.
He swallowed three fingers of scotch in one gulp and poured another as he made his way back to his bedroom. The apartment was dark, and he was so tired. Downing the amber liquid, he peeled off his boxers and T-shirt and climbed between the sheets, willing himself to relax.
The cell phone on the bedside table beeped and lit up. Alex picked it up to retrieve the message.
Dr. Hemming has left the radio station and we have her. We are relieving Mr. Avery until 8 a.m. and will let you know when she arrives home. Have a good night.
A good night. He hadn’t had one of those in two fucking weeks. He threw the phone down on the bed and closed his eyes.
6
Dreams and Nightmares
Angel swore as she pulled off the road; the thud, thud, thud of the flat grated on her nerves as the car ground to a halt. Her breath rushed out as she considered her options and turned on her emergency flashers. A flat tire was the last thing she needed in the middle of the night. The streets in the small mid-town neighborhood were all but deserted.
The evening was cooler, and the September breezes coming in from Lake Michigan rustled the
leaves that clung to the trees. She angrily alighted from the car with a slam of the door and stomped around to stare at the deflated tire. She frowned at the damn thing. The car was fine, working perfectly, and she’d had the tires rotated with her service less than a week before.
“Ugh!” She kicked the tire in disgust. “Really? Are you kidding me with this shit?” Angel crouched down to get a closer look but couldn’t really tell the cause of the damage. There weren’t any big obstacles or potholes that she’d run over.
She stood up and walked back around, pulling the driver’s door open on her Lexus and sliding back inside. Could she change a tire? Yes. Her father wouldn’t let her drive until she could change a tire and the oil all by herself, but at this time of night, she was too tired and too aware of being alone in the darkness. A shiver ran through her as it registered this could be one of Mark Swanson’s warnings, or worse, a setup to leave her stranded and vulnerable. She hated it that a creep like him could frighten her so badly, but she wasn’t stupid, and fear only strengthened her determination to see him put away.
She quickly reached over to the passenger seat and dug through her purse in search of her phone. Her hand closed around the phone that Alex had given her, and despite her circumstances, she couldn’t help but check the screen. Angel was rewarded with more of the same nothingness before she threw it down on the leather seat next to her. She didn’t even know why she bothered keeping the damn thing charged since he hadn’t called or texted in weeks. Becca was right, though, what did she expect?
She scrolled through her contacts on her other phone and dialed the roadside assistance number she’d gotten from her auto insurance agent. She sat there, frustrated, as she listened to the automated message and hammered out the various policy numbers it asked for. It seemed like hours before an actual voice came on the line and took her location.
