Croft sighed. “I’ll be right down. Please tell everyone I’m sorry about this. The media is a bunch of soul sucking vultures,” he stated, unequivocally.
Closing the door, he faced his wife. “I have to go talk to them.”
“Want me to come with you,” she offered. “It’s me they want. Once they see me and snap some pictures, they’ll be gone.”
That was happening right after hell froze over. “Not in this lifetime, Emma. I’ll go down to tell them that you’re safe and going back to work tomorrow. Then, I’ll tell them that I’m calling the FBI to throw them all in holding for suspicion of something or other.”
Briggs laughed. “Want me to ride shotgun on this adventure?”
“No. I want you to sit here with your gun pointed at the door. I’ll text and knock before I walk in. You shoot anyone who tries to come in here.”
Emma walked to him and wrapped her arms around his waist as she laid her head on his chest. “I think that may be a tad bit over the edge, babe,” she stated.
He shrugged. “Yeah, well you know how the media soul suckers are. They’ll try and get any and all details from me just to get to you.”
“Maybe you should take Curtis with you,” Emma suggested. “He could be useful.”
“How so?” Croft asked, curiously.
“If they swarm you, toss him at them and run like hell!” she suggested.
Croft actually contemplated it. “That may be a good plan after all.”
“Hey! That’s a horrible idea!”
Funny, Curtis wasn’t nearly as amused.
Chapter Six
Thursday Evening
He opted to face them down in street clothes. Normally, when dealing with the mongrels of the media, he would handle them while in a suit and tie, but tonight he wanted to be a husband delivering news of his wife.
Hopefully, it made them seem like real people, and that might get them to back off. He understood that the media was making them their poster children for Vegas royalty reborn and at first, it had been entertaining. They’d even started a scrapbook to keep the memories alive. Being called the ‘King and Queen of law enforcement’ was humorous, at first. Now, it was more of a bull’s-eye on his wife, and they all knew where that had gotten them.
Now, he’d try and appeal to them as Greyson Croft, the husband of a victim of a horrible crime. Maybe, he’d find a little bit of the soul that the media so callously tossed to the roadside when they picked their careers.
Walking out the door, he took two security men with him, just in case they rushed him. Under the back of his shirt was his gun, safely tucked away, as he was unwilling to leave the building unarmed.
The minute they cleared the tinted glass doors, the chaos began to whip into a frenetic mess. When they saw the director of the FBI, they all rushed forward. Immediately, the two security guards stepped forward and held them at bay.
“Good evening,” Croft began, staring at the faces eagerly anticipating any tidbit of news. He memorized each one, promising himself that he’d never offer them a story or news bite ever again, just for irritating the shit out of him.
As they began shouting questions, he crossed his arms and shook his head. It immediately stopped.
“I’m here to make a statement and update you. If you’re all going to scream and shout at me, then I’ll head back in and you’re all out of luck.”
None of them appeared to like the possibility of him following through on that threat.
The silence continued.
“Two days ago, my wife, while leaving work, was abducted. She was held prisoner by an unknown person until she managed to escape and call for help. Right now, she’s resting peacefully upstairs.”
They started yelling again, and he prepared to leave. Once more, they got the hint.
“We’re asking that you stop disrupting the lives of the people who live here. We get that you’re curious, but the thirty other families that reside here deserve privacy, and you’ve become a spectacle.”
Someone dared to shout a question. “There are rumors that she was horribly disfigured, and that’s why you’re hiding her out.”
Croft laughed. “Emma was abducted and thought she was going to die. She’d had a bad scare and nothing more. In fact, tomorrow she’s going back to work to assist the FBI with finding the individual that did this to her.”
That drove them all wild.
“We would like to personally thank everyone who assisted in locating her. The FBI and the Las Vegas Police Department were instrumental in helping track her down. Without them, I wouldn’t have my wife back.”
“What about the big Christmas party held by Randall Mason, will she still be attending?”
“We have every intention of continuing on with our lives. What happened was terrifying, but we’ve recovered and regrouped. We’re stronger and ready to face anything that’s thrown at us. Rumors are nothing more but made up stories. Emma’s as beautiful as ever, we’re not divorcing, and aliens didn't take her for testing to a secret location.”
The last part had the media laughing.
“If you want to find a story, work on the one where these innocent women are being killed. Our personal lives aren’t as entertaining as you think. Trust me, we’re just like everyone else.”
There were more questions, shouting and hands waving.
“Now, please give the residents of the building some peace and disburse. If I have to come down here, next time it won’t be as Greyson Croft, but as the director of the FBI, and that means you’ll be removed by the police, and I’ll hit you all where it really hurts. There will be a full media blackout.
That got their attention. Most of them began leaving, happy with their sound bite for the moment. Now, they could have some peace.
Back inside, security was grateful. They now could go back to just protecting the residents of Sky Villa and not worrying about the crazies.
“I can’t make them all leave. If they’re off the property, they have every right to congregate. But if they become a security risk, call the cops, and then come get me. I’ll get them removed one way or another.”
“Thank you, sir,” stated Henry, shaking his hand. “We appreciate it. Tell Mrs. Croft that we’re all glad she’s back safe,” he said, handing him a tin of cookies. “Williams’s wife sent these in for her.”
He took them and smiled. “Thank you all.”
As the elevator door closed, he opened the cookies and checked them out. They looked safe enough. Well, he better test them, you know, in case they were poisoned.
By the second cookie, he was at their door. He took out his phone and sent a text to his partner, remembering what he said. Knocking, he called to them. Briggs immediately opened it.
“Hey, is the media handing out cookies as bribes?” he stated, trying to reach for a chocolate chip one and getting his hand slapped.
“Get your hands off of Emma’s cookies.”
He protested, “Your hands are all over them.”
Emma began laughing, as her husband handed her the tin. The two of them together were comical.
“Yes they are, and I’m her husband. I’m allowed to touch anything I want. Remember that,” he replied.
“How many did you eat, Grey?” she asked. “Cookies have butter in them and that’s a cholesterol issue.”
Briggs snickered, as she handed him the tin.
Leaning over towards his wife’s ear, he whispered. “I’ll burn the cookies off later, when I get my hands on you.”
She blushed and cuddled closer to her husband. He could paw at her all he wanted. Emma was up for that.
“Come on you two. I’m trying to eat the cookies, and I know what he’s whispering. He’s a dirty old man.”
Emma yanked the cookies out of his hands. “No cookies for you for calling him old.”
Croft was laughing. “That will teach you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, gathering his things. “I’m going to head back t
o Brynn’s. Watching you two makes me want to try and work things out.”
It was the adult thing to do. “Good for you, Curtis,” Greyson said, as he watched the man clear the coffee table. “You have a key. If you come back, just don’t come into our room. I sleep with my gun within reach.”
He nodded and headed towards Emma. “Thanks for letting me talk,” he said, dropping a kiss on her cheek and grabbing two cookies.
“Hey!”
“It looks like I had my hands all over her cookies too,” he snickered, and then began running when Croft leapt off the couch in chase.
Emma couldn’t help but laugh. Both men were completely crazy, and she was so glad she was home to witness it all.
* * *
Watching the media coverage, there was a sense of pride. The Crofts had been scared over what happened. This was a very good thing. Maybe the man would be more willing to play nice when it came to his office.
They could use the power of the FBI in their corner.
There were annoyances that just needed to be eliminated. Before long, with the help of Greyson Croft, they’d be powerful and virtually unstoppable.
Now, it was a matter of sitting back and waiting for him to come to them. But first, a little present would be delivered in the morning just as Emma Croft returned to work.
It would be interesting to see how it affected her. That would be the true gauge to how scared she had been.
The hope was that once the Crofts saw it, they would both understand. If you played with people who were bigger and more powerful than you, then you better be ready to fight for survival.
Tomorrow, they’d find out.
It was time to see how tough the woman really was.
* * *
He took up residence on the couch once he found her missing from the apartment. It was getting late, and he’d already sent her a text, asking if she was safe.
Her only reply was ‘busy’.
Yeah, vice worked late, getting the criminal elements off the street, but she’d already logged a sixteen hour day.
Briggs had been right; this was a determining factor that their relationship was doomed.
He’d never hide from her where he was or what he was doing and Brynn would always have access to him if she needed him.
Not in a million years would he hurt her like this.
She obviously wanted to deliver a message to him, and it was loud and clear.
Well, he could reciprocate just as easily.
Packing up his things, he grabbed all his clothes and possessions to carry them out to the Denali.
Fortunately, most of his things were in storage, shipped from Philly when he decided to move to Vegas. For now, moving out wouldn’t take much effort. Some clothes and a suitcase were all he’d stored there.
Maybe that should have been his sign. The day he was unwilling to bring more things, he should have seen it coming. Look at his boss. When he moved in with Emma on day three, he went and got his cat.
Curtis didn’t even bring his favorite book.
Yeah, there was a big flashing neon sign that he chose to unwisely ignore.
Not willing to stoop to a level he couldn’t live with, Briggs left a note. If Brynn came home, she’d see it and not wonder. Curtis wished that she’d be worried, but he was blatantly aware of the truth, Brynn Westmore simply didn't care.
Now, it was up to her. What happened had to be her decision. Coming back here to face her tonight was his attempt at working it out. There was only so much he could do in the relationship if she was unwilling to meet him halfway.
Walking out the door, he knew where he would go. At least with his partner and Emma, he felt at home. He was grateful he had them in his life.
Growing up, family had been limited. His mom disappeared when he was a toddler, and he never knew his dad’s name. The only person he had to rely on was his grandmother. Now that she was elderly and in a retirement home, he really enjoyed the knowledge that he had a man who was like a big brother and woman who stepped in to mother him.
He’d get through this. If anything, his childhood made him tough.
It was a good thing that neither of them had dropped the ‘L’ word. That would have made this more of a mess. Despite what he was feeling inside, he always held that little piece back, just in case something went wrong. Again, that was probably something that should have set off warning alarms in his brain.
Pulling into the garage, he parked in one of the spots reserved for the condo. Curtis grabbed his things and carried them up past security.
They watched him curiously, probably wondering what the hell was going on with the inhabitants of thirteen A.
Yeah, he couldn’t blame them. Just that morning, he woke up believing things were fixable, and now they didn't seem that way at all.
Unlocking the door, he quickly scribbled a note and dropped it on the counter as he headed to the room that was reserved for him. Placing the things in the closet, he dropped down on the bed and closed his eyes. All he could do was wonder where he went so very wrong.
Oh and how his partner made it look so damn easy.
There was no doubt in his mind. He had a great deal to learn from Greyson Croft.
Walking into her apartment, she was preparing herself for the mother of all fights. In her mind, she’d already primed herself to get defensive and go into battle mode.
When she entered the living room, she was sure that he would be waiting for her.
And yet… nothing.
Checking her bedroom, she also found it vacant. There was a sudden sigh of relief. Now, she could avoid the ugliness of a big fight. In her heart, she believed that there was nothing wrong with getting a few beers with friends. Now, if someone could only explain that to the man who she was cohabiting with for the last few weeks.
Needing some water, she headed to the kitchen to find some pizza in the fridge. It was a sign that Curtis had been there at one point. On top of one of the plastic wrapped slices sat a folded piece of paper.
Brynn,
I waited up. When you didn't come home I got the hint. You could have just told me we were done. I wouldn’t have hurt you this way.
I took my things.
Curtis.
This wasn’t what she expected at all.
Somehow, the note pissed her off. How could he just walk away that easily? She threw it on the counter and got ready for bed. She had another shift tomorrow and needed to be focused.
As she tried to ignore the pain in her heart, she focused on earning those captain bars. They would be her focus as she tried to get over the hurt.
Friday Morning
After waking up, Emma left about a twenty kisses all over her husband’s face, just to let him know how much she loved him. When he groggily mumbled something inaudible, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
It was time to get life back on track, and that started with a big cup of coffee.
Stepping down gingerly, to test her feet, she noticed there was a little soreness, but nothing she couldn’t handle if she picked the right footwear.
“Where are you going?” Greyson muttered into the pillow, when she moved out of bed.
“I’m getting up.”
He opened one eye. “Should I be worried that you’re getting up before me? Wasn’t Curtis all stirred up when Brynn did that to him?”
Emma started laughing. “Yeah, you should be afraid. I’m going out to the kitchen to have an affair with my new man. Maybe you’ve heard of him? I call him Mr. Coffee.”
Croft snorted and sat up in bed. “Can I watch?”
“If you follow me, I’ll let you make it a threesome.”
She had his attention, so much so, that he caught her before she reached to the door.
“I want my good morning kiss,” he murmured, rubbing his lips gently across his wife’s as she clung to him.
Emma could tell what else he wanted. “Maybe if you’re good, I’ll let you join me and the cof
fee in the shower.”
That had definite merit, so much so, that he gave Emma’s derriere an affectionate squeeze. “It’s a date. I’ll be the one expecting sex, in case you get confused.”
Her husband was a funny man. Not many people noticed, because they were unable to get past the FBI exterior. Emma knew the truth. Greyson Croft was always entertaining.
Running her fingers down the bulge in the front of his boxers, she enjoyed the look in his eyes. “I’ll be sure to take care of that for you.”
Men were easy.
At that point, he would have followed her out into a busy intersection to feel his wife’s mouth on his body. It was a genetic thing and that pesky Y chromosome was to blame.
“Come on, tiger. I’ll get us some caffeine.”
Taking her hand in his, Greyson followed her to the kitchen. “How are your feet?”
Most of the bruises were now a hideous green, but that meant they were fading. Soon, his wife would be back to her normal self.
“Good. I may be able to pull off heels for tomorrow. That is, if you still want me to go with you,” she added, pointing at the horrible bruises on her shoulder and cheek. “Now I’m wishing I picked a different dress. This is going to be the focal point.”
Croft grinned. “It won’t be a problem.”
Sitting, he watched his wife move around their kitchen. It was nice to have the normalcy back. Then, he saw the note. “Uh oh, we’re not alone.”
He slid it towards Emma.
“Poor Curtis.”
It was time to make his wife spill the details. “What do you know that you’re not sharing?”
Keeping a secret for your partner could be expected, but unfortunately for Brynn, it was trumped by one thing- marriage.
Christmas is Killing (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 3) Page 15
