I let him drive in silence while my mind spins in a million directions. Finally, I can’t help but ask, “Why is someone after Senator McAlister?”
He sighs deeply. “We’re not exactly sure but we think it has to do with the vaccine bill. Nothing else controversial is up for vote until next year.”
I try to remember the details of the new bill. It came into being because a bad batch of flu vaccine killed a couple of children in California. “Even if they kill the senator, won’t it still pass? Everyone knows it’s a slam dunk.”
Slate merges into traffic and follows the signs toward the George Washington Bridge. “Grayson isn’t so sure. He says if the senate procrastinates long enough, people will forget.”
“Forget China sent us poison instead of vaccine?”
“You’d be surprised. That’s why he’s fighting so hard to get this bill passed before the end of the year. He figures once we do, we’ll have tighter controls, more accountability.”
The lights of the city fade away, traffic thins, and I yawn. “I can’t image the Chinese running Jack and Joe off the road. I mean, this must be peanuts to them.
“We just don’t know.” Slate shakes his head as we pass city island on our right.
In the dark, I open my smart phone and research. If I’m going to be any help, I need the bigger picture but after an hour, I’m rather disappointed. Both Democrats and Republicans are solidly behind this vote. I don’t see how running a senator off the road would change anything. I’m still pondering this when we arrive at Teterboro Airport.
“Is Isabella coming, too?” I take Slate’s hand as he helps me out of the limo.
“No, Grayson’s wife is staying home with Skye. Pretty soon, you’ll be doing the same.”
I smile at the thought of the sweet two-year-old. “Other than pictures, I haven’t seen her since my and Jack’s un-divorce party.”
“She’s a real cute kid. Smart, too.” Slate runs around the front of the car and helps me out.
When he lets go of my hand, I get a little nosy. “You and Lilac ever going to tie the knot? Have some of your own?”
“Yeah. Soon, but we don’t need a piece of paper to prove we love each other. You ready?”
“Ready.”
It’s weird to walk into an airport terminal with no line. Instead, I show my id to a pleasant woman and pass through a metal detector with my shoes on. After, we exit the building onto the tarmac, go up a set of stairs, and into the jet with the letters PATTEN on the side.
I’ve never been on the billionaire’s jet but heard lots of stories from Isabella. She’s right. The interior looks more like a man cave than the inside of an airplane.
Intelligent eyes assess me as Grayson Patten III stands and shakes my hand. “You shouldn’t have come but I’m sure Jack will be glad to see you. Sit down and buckle up. We’re taking off in just a few.”
Usually my husband’s boss wears an expensive suit. Today, he seems much more down to earth in t-shirt and jeans, especially when he personally hands me a bottle of water, cheese, and crackers.
“Thank you.” Hopefully, I won’t puke on the luxurious brown leather of his lounge chair.
After we take off, he motions Slate to the front, out of my earshot. Try as I might, I can’t hear a damn thing they say for the rest of the flight. Frustrated, yet exhausted, I lean back in the super-comfortable chair and sleep.
It’s not even five AM when I step out of a limo in front of the hospital. As our reunion gets closer, my heart hammers, my mouth goes dry, and I pray he’s okay. If he is, he’s going to be furious I came to see him but I don’t mind. I’ll look into his beautiful brown eyes, say I’m sorry, and describe all the sexy ways I’ll make it up to him.
My anxiousness increases when we’re stopped in the lobby by some lethal-looking men in dark suits, wearing earpieces and sunglasses.
Grayson takes out his wallet and hands them a card. “I’m here to see Jack Taylor. This is his wife, Blakely and another of my employees, Alexander Slate.”
After the two men check our licenses, they point us in the direction of the elevator, Grayson answers my unasked question. “Secret Service.”
“Will they be taking over for Jack?”
“Don’t think so. They’re already maxed out. The president himself is asking for more of my guys to augment his team.”
Shit.
By the time we arrive on the sixth floor, my heart is hammering in my chest. I imagine breathing tubes, heart monitors, and his beautiful body bruised beyond recognition.
“Go ahead, Blake. We’ll let you two talk for a few minutes alone.” Grayson hangs back with Slate while I walk past the nurse’s station until I find room six-five-five.
Jack might be sleeping so I enter quietly. When I see a young blonde leaning over a bed’s siderail with her lips locked to a sleeping man, for a moment, I think I’m in the wrong room.
Quickly, I back out, check the door number, and the name card, Jack Taylor.
My stupid heart smashes onto the linoleum in a million pieces. How could he do this to me? I love him so damn much.
My mother warned me…
True, he only married me to save me from the cult. The sex was unplanned and the resulting pregnancy was a shock to us both. Maybe she was right. It was too much, too soon. Damn him. I was fine with raising a baby on my own. He was the one who insisted on the un-divorce.
Here, I thought we were so much in love. Everything has been good. How could I not have known? I just stand there with the mouth of a sea bass while the homewrecker mutters how much she loves him.
As a psychiatrist, I’ve advised hundreds of women about how to deal with infidelity. Why then, am I completely lost? A few brain cells try to insist Jack would never cheat but my hormones shut them down. It also doesn’t help how I can see my reflection in the glass door.
The young girl is stunning. Even crying, she looks like a million bucks in cashmere, silk, and pearls. I, however, left my house in yoga pants and Jack’s old sweatshirt. I’ve got dark circles under my eyes, my hair’s a mess, I’m fat, and I’m pregnant.
She’s not.
Obviously, it’s time to exit stage right before making a huge scene. I’ll just call an Uber and take the train back to New York.
Making a mad dash to the elevator, I manage to slip by Slate but Grayson grabs hold of my arm and says, “Whoa, hold on. What’s wrong?”
With the giant knot in my throat, there’s no way I can speak so I just point to where the tall, thin, beautiful woman exits my husband’s room. She’s exquisite, even with her face red from crying.
“You’re way off base, girl. Jack’s a one-woman man.” Grayson tightens his grip.
I know what I saw. Shaking my head, I close my eyes but it only makes things worse. The image of that woman kissing my husband will be burned into the back of my retinas forever.
“Blakely, look at me. What did you see?” Graysons pulls me to his face.
One huge tear drips down my cheek and I brush it away with the back of my hand. “She was kissing him.”
Flanked by two men, I’m all but dragged back down the hall and into the room. The billionaire turns on the light and when Jack doesn’t stir, Slate says, “I hope you’re not faking it, pal.”
“Huh?” Jack’s lids lift and his eyes soften when they rest on me. “Blake?”
Shit. I don’t want to lose him.
When I bite my lower lip to keep from sobbing, my husband glowers at his two friends, pushes down on the siderail, and swings his feet to stand. “I told you to keep her in New York.”
He holds his arms out to me. “C’mere, babe. I’m fine, really I am.”
I take a step back, shaking my head no. From now on, his hugs belong to a beautiful blond.
“Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Jack looks from Grayson, to Slate, then back to me.
Slate clears his throat. “I think Blake wants to know why the senator’s daughter was kissing you.”
“Who?” Jack’s brows crease, he tips his head, and I honestly believe he’s confused.
After a moment, his eyes narrow as he swears under his breath. “Whatever you saw, it’s not what you think. She’s had a crush on me since day one. If she was kissing me, I had no idea.”
He holds out his arms again and this time I walk into his giant bear hug. Still, I can’t stop the tears that insist on dripping down my face.
Jack turns toward Slate and Gray and asks, “Can you give us a minute?”
I’d join them but Jack has ahold of me, not only with his hand, but with a look that makes me weak. “Babe, you can’t really believe I’d cheat on you?”
“I’m not sure what I believe.”
“Hell, did you see me kiss her back?”
“No, but she was whispering how much she loved you.”
“I was asleep, Blake, honey. Cut me some slack.”
I cross my arms and glare up at him. “What would you have done if you’d walked in on me and Lucky was giving me a tonsillectomy in my sleep?”
He smirks. “I’d simply take him aside and give him a stern talking to.” He chuckles and the warmth of the sound suddenly makes me laugh, too.
He sits down and pats the bed. “Seriously, luv? I don’t want anyone kissing you but me.”
“Ditto.” I feel a little better until I notice the big bandage just above the ear. “Oh my God, that was where you were shot? You could’ve been killed.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” His cocky smile relaxes the noose choking me since I walked into his hospital room.
“I’m sorry… She was kissing you… She’s so beautiful and look at me. I’m fat, my hair? Do you see how I’m dressed?”
“I never saw a lovelier sight.” He kisses me, holds my hand, and squeezes. “Next time, give me the benefit of the doubt, okay?”
I nod. “When are you coming home?”
“I have to be back at work on Monday.”
“But you were shot…”
“Not so bad. I just need a little refueling.” He points to the IV bag hanging on a hook overhead. “By morning, I’ll be good as new.”
His kiss is warm as his hands dig into my hair, holding me to him. Maybe it’s from lack of sleep, maybe too much worry but I collapse onto his chest.
“Ah honey, don’t cry. It’s all good and before you know it, I’ll be back in New York, finishing the nursery. Just a couple more weeks.”
I know all this yet I hate that I almost lost him. What if next time the bullets don’t miss?
We kiss, hold hands and talk for a long time before Slate stands in the doorway. “Everything all squared away?”
I nod and wipe my eyes with Jack’s sheets.
“Nice.” His friend crosses the room, punches Jack in the arm, then turns to ask me, “Can Grayson and I have a word with your husband, alone?”
“Sure.” I’d argue but with three alphas in the room, I’d never win.
Chapter 3
Jack
After watching my wife exit, Slate and Grayson cross their arms, eyes dark and faces grim.
I sit up straighter. “How the fuck is it my fault Dianna kissed me in my sleep?”
Grayson takes a step toward the foot of the bed. “You knew she had a crush on you. You should’ve squashed it before it got out of hand.”
“Seriously? Have you met her? That spoiled brat doesn’t understand the meaning of no. I’ve explained a million times how I’m wild about my lovely wife and I’m about to become a dad. When she didn’t stop coming onto me, I first told the senator and even his wife. Her parents seem to think there’s no harm in her sick infatuation. I swear to God, I’m ready to start a harassment suit.”
“That does put a different spin on things.” Slate chuckles while my boss stifles a grin but it’s not fucking amusing, especially how the girl’s actions made Blake cry. She’s too pale and the dark circles under her eyes tell me she isn’t sleeping well. This late-night trip couldn’t be good for the baby.
I shoot them both a glare. “I thought we agreed my pregnant wife would stay in New York.”
“It was either fly her on Gray’s jet or she would’ve driven. Your wife doesn’t listen worth shit.” Slate raises his brows and I shoot back.
“As if Lilac is any better?”
“Yeah, she drives me fucking nuts but what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”
Grayson laughs under his breath until he checks his watch. “This is real fun gents but me and Slate have to get back to New York. And Jack? We need to get you up to speed.”
“About fucking time.” Enough with the inquisition.
Slate paces the length of the small room in front of the beds and stops in front of the window with a view of the parking lot. Then, he smooths out a wrinkle in the empty bed beside me and says, “The last assassin has lawyered up, trying to make a deal with the Feds.”
“Deal? What kind of deal?” I just don’t get shit like this.
My head throbs like a mother-fucker but in a way, it’s good. It proves I’m still alive, gray matter active, and ready to kick ass.
Sitting in the folding chair beside my bed, Grayson rubs his eyes, then rasps a palm over his chin, “My inside sources say they think things got out of hand. The guys who ran you off the road weren’t supposed to kill him, just shake him up a bit.”
“I suppose. What better way to scare someone than to kill off his bodyguard. Do we know who foot the bill for this? Was it the Chinese?”
“Either them or Big Pharma.” Slate turns on a heel, returns to my bedside, and studies my almost empty IV bag.
“But it doesn’t make sense. Profits from the vaccine must be peanuts to both of them.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. “Maybe it’s the precedence the bill sets… Neither Big Pharm nor the Chinese would like the message McAlister is sending.”
“What message is that?”
Slate steps back and waits for the male nurse in blue scrubs to finish changing my IV, take my temp, and check my blood pressure before continuing our conversation.
“If congress and the senate pass the bill, they’re officially stating overseas manufacturing of pharmaceuticals isn’t safe.” Gray stands, an indication the briefing is about over while I think on those kids who died in California. We have to find out who caused a simple flu vaccination to turn deadly.
And, who the fuck tried to kill me.
“Just for the record, I’m one hundred percent behind McAlister’s stance on the issue. This is a good thing.”
Grayson shrugs, staring out into the hall where nurses laugh at their station. “Just like anything, it depends on who’s running the show.”
“Two children died. Sure as fuck, someone dropped the ball.” I’m not sure what he’s getting at.
“Agreed. I’m just saying McAlister has plenty of reasons to make the situation sound worse than it was. His state will get a real boost when the manufacturing returns to the states.”
“It’s time for me to get back to work.” I tug on the bandage holding the needle into my arm but Slate grabs my wrist.
“Lucky’s got it. You take a couple days off.”
“Like hell I-” My cell phone bleeps, I pick it up, then give my pals an accusing look. “Did either of you call my mother?”
They both shake their heads. Damn, she probably caught the late, late news from Phoenix, at least I hope that’s where she is. Knowing her, she could be anywhere, most probably Vegas or Atlantic City.
My headache suddenly worse, I inhale and exhale deeply before answering on the fourth ring. “Hey, Mom.”
“Weren’t you guarding the senator from Pennsylvania who got run off the road?” She doesn’t bother with niceties, such as hello or how are you but at least she’s not slurring her words.
“It was an accident and I’m fine.”
“I’m not stupid, son.” I can just picture her at the kitchen table,
cigarette in one hand and phone in the other.
“No, Mom, I don’t believe you are so you’ll understand why I can’t say anything more about it right now.” I started using that line when I was deployed in Afghanistan and it’s still my favorite, saving me from hours of circular and pointless discussions.
Her voice sounds a little hurt. “Can I at least ask if you’re alright?”
“Yup. Never better.”
“Hmph. I don’t suppose you’re coming home for Thanksgiving.” Ah ha, finally, the real reason for the call.
Considering all the holidays we spent while living out of her car, I don’t feel real guilty about not being fond of them. “I have to work but you’re welcome to come to New York and spend it with Blake. She and her mom would love to see you.”
“Them?” She sniffs. “I hardly know them.”
“They’re family, Mom.”
She makes that damned agitated noise in her throat I hated growing up. “The only reason you married her is because she was pregnant.”
As I’ve done since about age five, I ignore her nasty comment and sound effects. “How about I get a ticket for you to come to us for Christmas. We can see the Rockettes or catch a show.”
“No. My back hurts when I fly. I’ll just spend the holidays alone this year.” The tone is petulant but I know better. She’ll catch a bus and spend the day the way she prefers, gambling my hard-earned cash away, money supposed to be used for healthy food.
“We’ll discuss it later.” My gaze turns toward Slate and Gray, one studying the parking lot, the latter checking his emails.
My eyes roll as my mom continues her little game. “I’m not getting any younger, you know.”
This is a classic move on her part and I refuse to be baited. “I love you. Got to go. Is there anything else you wanted?”
“A few dollars would be nice.”
“Bye. Talk soon.” It’s pointless to ask what she did with her hefty allowance. She either gambled, spent it on cigarettes, or drank it away. I make a mental to call meals-on-wheels. Damn, the woman would try the patience of a saint.
Jack II Page 2
