by Dee J. Adams
Twelve minutes later, just the way she planned, Jess came out of the elevator with Juneau and two of his henchmen. Juneau and his men got into the Townn it hadn̵
Chapter Eight
“Click it or ticket,” Jess growled as she buckled her seat belt. She popped a breath mint before starting the car.
Maurice glared at her as he strapped into her sardine can of a car. He couldn’t understand how she drove this tiny piece of shit she called an automobile. Never dreamed in a million years that when she bought it a few months ago, he’d actually have to sit in it. Especially now, when she didn’t work for him anymore. Had she really expected him to fork over eight million dollars last night? Was she delusional? Of course, he had just handed over the hundred cash in his wallet for the ride, but this meeting was too damn important to miss. Robert McBride was about to fork over millions of dollars for the next film and those kinds of investors didn’t come along that often.
Hell, if Jess hadn’t quit, he would’ve fired her.
But he had a lot going on and she was—or had been—the best assistant he’d ever hired, bar none. She’d kept him organized, did his research, ran his errands, made his phone calls and kept the hounds at a smiled grimlyy She ran her hands distance. Replacing her was going to be a bitch.
Yeah, he understood her family was in deep shit. He knew deep shit. He’d been threatened before and dealt with angry investors, but this was the first time someone had tried to kill him. People usually took legal action, not lethal action. That’s why he’d hired extra security. None of which he had around him at the moment. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked his surroundings in the darkened garage.
Every few years a patsy came along with a bucket load of money and no clue as to how Hollywood worked. Maurice took it as his responsibility to educate those people, and help relieve them of their monetary surplus. It was no secret that Hollywood was a crapshoot. Some of his movies did okay, and others not so much, but Maurice saw no harm in squeezing a few dollars from the wealthy. He worked hard and he deserved it. With Jess’s unknowing help, he had paperwork to back up the figures in his books.
“You might want to duck if you’re worried about someone seeing you,” Jess said as the security gate opened.
The idea appalled Maurice, but his survival instinct kicked in and he leaned forward as Jess eased out into traffic. Fury swept through him at the cowardly act, but without his bodyguards, his confidence sputtered.
“Relax,” Jess said. “No one would look for you in my car. But just in case, stay low for another block or two.”
She had a point. That’s why he liked her…used to like her…because of her smarts. Of course getting involved with him hadn’t been too smart where her family was concerned, but that wasn’t his problem. Jess was a big girl, made her own decisions. She had to live with them like everyone else.
“Where’re we going?” Maurice asked when he lifted his head. Jess wasn’t headed toward the restaurant he needed to be at in—he checked his watch—thirty minutes.
“There was an accident over on Beverly Glen and traffic’s backed up. I thought I’d take a detour.”
“In the wrong direction?”
She glared at him. “I’ll get you where you need to be. Have I let you down in three years?”
No, she hadn’t, which is why he’d kept her so long. Maurice sighed and settled back in the seat. Like that was even fucking possible. “This is your car?” he asked, knowing he hadn’t managed to keep any skepticism from his tone. “You drive this on a regular basis?” The open-mouthed look of incredulousness answered his question. Yes. So he had to ask. “Why?”
“Because the gas mileage is good and the price was right. I don’t make a ton of money.” She shot him another glare as if it was his fault. Which technically speaking it was. He got away with murder when it came to paying Jess. She worked way more hours than he paid her for. But he’d always been good at finding young women who wanted to work in the movie business, eager to give, some with their bodies, most with their time and energy. Usually the ones that gave their bodies wanted to be in front of the camera. They thought putting out meant he’d put them in one of his films. Two of them had been right. around her waist and pullin"
Part of him had been disappointed that Jess didn’t want to act. The camera would love her. Her short brown hair had streaks of red and her pale skin glowed fresh and clean. The smattering of freckles across her nose could’ve been covered with makeup. Her clear light brown eyes would come across on movie screens like a beacon. That’s where her true innocence glared bright. Sweet, little Jess gave everything up with her eyes. She was an open book. A do-gooder. A simple fact she proved by showing up this morning with the research he needed even though she’d quit. Any other assistant would’ve burned the file, but not sweet, stupid Jess. Actually, the backbone she’d shown so far surprised him. He thought she would’ve fallen apart after last night.
She missed another opportunity to go over another canyon. “Jess, where the hell are you going? I’m not going to make this meeting,” Maurice fumed.
“I just realized I left my organizer at home. I need to stop and pick it up and we’re right here, so I can’t miss the chance. I’ll call your eight a.m. appointment and tell him we’re running a little late.”
Maurice clenched his jaw. That was it. If she hadn’t already quit, he’d have fired her. Again. He’d rent a car for the rest of the day. After Jess dropped him at the restaurant, he’d probably never see her again. Just as well.
A few minutes later, she pulled up to a monster house in Hancock Park. The peach stucco and Spanish tiled roof screamed ultra-chic Los Angeles. Two big willow trees shaded the neatly manicured front lawn. A large bay window jutted out near the front door, but the curtains were closed and Maurice had no view of the interior. Jess rolled down a long driveway toward two detached double car garages in back.
“This is your house?” Even as he said the words, the answer popped into his head. She lived in a small apartment in West Hollywood, which meant this place belonged to someone else.
“It’s the house I grew up in. I still think of it as mine.”
Of course. He should have realized this house belonged to her father. He vaguely remembered the background check he’d had done of her father over seven years ago. Not just any man could represent his son. Maurice had searched for the best and Jay St. John had been it. He’d paid St. John a fortune to keep Alex out of prison and the man had been worth it. But later, he’d discovered St. John’s firm had disappeared. Maurice just figured he’d retired early. He hadn’t had a reason to keep tabs on the man.
Jess pulled the car all the way up into the first detached garage. Tall, gray cabinets lined three walls floor-to-ceiling and circled the space, making it look like an ad for a home show. “Be right back. Won’t take but a minute.” She cut the engine, scrambled out of the car, and took the keys with her. If it was only going to take a minute, she should’ve left the damn car running in the driveway. Maybe Jess was losing her touch.
Something rumbled. The garage door stared closing behind him. What the fuck? He got out of the car and followed Jess out the side door into another two-car garage. Clearly the one they just parked in had been an addition. This second garage had thick padding on the walls, a drum set on one end with spea the right thing. satkers, microphones, amps and recording equipment. A music studio. Odd guitars and basses adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling as art pieces. On closer inspection they weren’t real, but made of some kind of iron or metal. Someone in the family considered themselves an artist.
A bad artist maybe.
Maurice headed for the door on the opposite side.
A click stopped him. He felt someone’s presence behind him, knew the sound he’d just heard. Slowly, Maurice turned, glanced at the gun trained on him then stared into the eyes of Tanner Bryant. He just couldn’t get rid of the bastard.
Sweet little Jess had an
ex-con in her garage. Wouldn’t she be surprised to find that out when she came back to the car? Another click, but this one happened in Maurice’s head. Anger filled him, fast and furious. The little bitch had set him up. He’d hired more than a thousand pounds of extra muscle and a little hundred pound piece of ass had cornered him.
Maurice smiled and spread his hands out wide. The bruises on Bryant’s face gave him a certain amount of satisfaction. “Bryant. What a surprise. I didn’t think I’d be seeing you again after last night.”
“That’s right,” Bryant agreed easily enough. “You thought I’d be dead by now.” He shrugged a shoulder. “After you left, your guys had an impromptu meeting with a baseball bat.”
Maurice clenched his jaw. He hated inane muscle, not that he had time to think about that now. Now he needed to get out of here. He edged toward the door, but Bryant only smiled and lifted his brows.
“You don’t honestly think you’re going anywhere, do you?”
Stopping, Maurice again spread his hands wide. “Look, you’ve got me. I’m willing to make a deal. I can get you more money than you’ll see in a lifetime and all you have to do is let me go.”
“Really?” Bryant nodded, considering. “Last night you gave the order to have me killed and today you’re ready to pay me off. Funny how the universe changes, huh, Juneau?” Bryant advanced on him, the gun steady in his hand. “Karma is the only thing that kept me going the last seven years, Juneau. Karma…and knowing that as soon as I got out, I’d hunt you down and hurt you the way you deserve. I’ve been looking forward to breaking you apart.”
Maurice didn’t see this going well. He’d instructed two of his guys to grab a taxi and meet him at the restaurant, but even if they figured out where he was, they’d be way too late to help him. He put his hands up next to his head. Complete surrender. “Bryant, you don’t want to kill me,” he said. “I can do more for you alive than I can dead.”
“I don’t think so.” Bryant’s dark brown eyes glittered with motive. “With you dead, I not only get peace of mind, but I won’t have look over my back, waiting for one of your guys to finish what they started last night.” His voice was so low, Maurice barely heard him.
Sweat popped out on Maurice’s forehead, ran down his temple. “You know m every member of your familytataytoy guys are going to find Jess when they come to the restaurant and discover I never made it there. You and that little bitch are going to be in a world of hurt.”
The gun connected with his head. The door opened next to him, but Bryant didn’t flinch.
“I’ve got the flex cuffs,” Jess said as she entered. “Tanner!” She paled, watching the gun that Bryant had wedged against his skull. “Put it down.”
Bryant didn’t budge, his jaw ticked. “Cuff him. Keep it tight,” he ordered.
The little bitch obeyed, pulling his hands down one at a time and wrapping the tough plastic around his wrists, tightening it so he had no chance in hell of getting loose. Bryant patted down his waist and chest, checking for a weapon.
Maurice hid his panic. “Jess, honey, you don’t want to do this,” he told her. “Let me go and we can work something out.” Was this because of her family? How had Tanner and she even hooked up? Last night? Before last night? Shit, did it matter? The fact that Bryant ended his pat down gave Maurice breathing room. “Jess, really, let’s talk. I’m sure we can negotiate a way out of this.”
The gun pressed harder against his head. “You’d like that wouldn’t you,” Bryant said softly in his ear. “You’d like nothing more than to walk out of here a free man.”
A free man. The words hit Maurice like a stone. They shouldn’t have, but they did. Bryant was all about vengeance. Retribution.
“Tanner, put the gun down. We made a deal,” Jess said, her voice shaky. She sounded very worried that Bryant was about to go back on a deal, which clearly involved his life.
Tanner’s harsh breath rasped near his ear, “You’ll be lucky to last out the week, Juneau. I guarantee it.”
“Jess,” Maurice implored, “don’t listen to this guy, he’s a lunatic, can’t you see that? He’s a killer. He just got out of prison for nearly killing a man, he has no qualms when—”
“Shut up!” Bryant yelled. “Shut the hell up.”
He glanced down at the tug on his jacket pocket as Jess snagged his cell phone. She yanked him to the far corner of the garage where she pulled a bike chain from a drawer. “Sit down, Maurice,” she told him.
“Seriously, Jess, for a smart girl, this is the fucking stupidest thing you’ve ever tried. Let me go. I won’t go to the cops,” Maurice said, but she pushed him toward the old carpeted floor.
Bryant snorted. “Perfect. Sweet talking will get you what you want,” he mumbled sarcastically as Jess threaded the thick chain in the small space between his wrists. “By the way, he told his guys to meet him at the restaurant for pick-up so we need to circumvent that.”
Jess connected the two ends and padlocked him to a metal shelf unit that was screwed into the floor. “Not a problem. I’ll send Hector a text from Maurice’s around her waist and pullin" phone and cancel.” She stood up and brushed her hands together. “How does a spur of the moment vacation to Santa Barbara sound, Maurice? That should give me some time before your guys get suspicious.”
Maurice shook his head, stunned that Jess could think like this.
“He sent me my brother’s earlobe this morning.” Her narrowed gaze shot daggers.
“What?” It took Maurice a second to understand. The shit was flying too fast. “Facinetti?”
“Yes, Maurice. Facinetti sent a package this morning.”
Holy shit. No wonder she’d flipped out. But there had to be a—
“So you need to figure out the fastest way for us to do this,” Jess continued. “Personally, I think you deserve a say in your future, unlike other people in this room.” She glanced at Bryant who stood close by, his gun still pointed at him as if he might fire any minute. Her face flushed as she snatched Bryant’s arm and hauled him to the door with her. “Can I speak to you for one minute,” she said.
“You don’t want to do this, Jess,” Maurice yelled at her back.
Jess turned. “You need to keep your mouth shut and I need to talk this man out of killing you.” She hit the lights and left him in the dark. “You’ve got five minutes, Maurice. This is your chance to make the right choice.” She pushed Bryant in front of her and turned back. “Just so you know, we sound-proofed the room when Dad started playing drums. No one will hear you if you decide to scream or shout.” She shut the door behind her. A click of the lock and Maurice found himself just as trapped as her family.
____________
Jess got as far as the kitchen door before the shaking started. Her insides and her outsides wobbled like a big bowl of Jell-O. Anger mixed with her nerves. Blood roared in her veins. “Dammit, Tanner!” Jess turned on him. “We had a deal. I can’t get my family back if Maurice is dead.”
Tanner shrugged his huge shoulders, the gun still in his hand. “He’s alive. You didn’t say I couldn’t scare the shit out of him.”
“My God, don’t do that to me. You about gave me a heart attack.” She stalked up to him, poked her finger in his chest. “I thought you were going to kill him in there.”
“That was the best part. He thought so too. That’s what sold it. Your eyes, your face. It was perfect. He thought he was dead.” Tanner actually smiled and the expression softened his features. Straight white teeth flashed in the brightness of her mother’s kitchen and Jess caught a glimpse of a man she had yet to meet. She’d had a hint in the car when the sedative had taken effect, but not for very long. Heat flared beneath her skin, spread from her chest up her neck and to her cheeks. Smiling like that made him look like a normal man, despite his bruises, not a gun-wielding ex-con bent on killing. Baring a smile that brightened his eyes, he’d turned into a man she wanted to know.. But Tanner did sat
&n
bsp; This was the kind of guy she could like.
The room suddenly heated up. Maybe she needed to turn on the AC. Apparently kidnapping screwed with her radar.
Tanner’s brows knit together. “Something wrong?”
Jess took a step back, cleared her head. “Yes, something’s wrong! I’m holding my boss hostage in the garage, of course something’s wrong.” She paced the long kitchen, not caring that Tanner watched her every move.
Okay, that was a lie. She hated him watching her this way. He probably thought she’d crack any minute and back out of their plan. She wasn’t a wimp.
She’d prove it.
She marched back into his space, hoping to intimidate him as he’d done to her last night. Granted, she wasn’t his size, but now she had the attitude. Besides, things had changed. They were partners of sorts and she had the right to get in his face. “Don’t go playing good cop, bad cop and keep me out of the loop. I’m not playing games. This is too important.”
“I agree. We want him to give up his money. Or himself. I don’t care which, but I doubt he’s going to happily agree to walk freely into Facinetti’s hands. So, let’s give him a minute to think about how he’s going to get all that money where it needs to go. Hell, we should make him wait five hours, instead of five minutes, b—”
“But we—”
“I know.” He put a finger against her lips and shushed her. “We don’t have that much time.” He said the words, but his gaze lingered on her lips. Her stomach somersaulted as his eyes darkened. Heat exploded in her center and blossomed upward to her chest and face. She’d have to remember the next time she invaded someone’s space that the person should be smaller than herself.
Now, she should step back. Step away from the large man with the gun. A man who nearly killed her last night and choked her this morning. An unstable man…with the darkest, most intense chocolate brown eyes she’d ever seen and the most amazing body…she wanted to touch.
