“Get in the car, Joshua,” she demanded without a scintilla of warmth in her voice. Granted, she was a beautiful woman, platinum blond and blue eyed, a trim body showing she worked out, but beautiful didn’t mask the brutal coldness emanating from the woman. The woman had all the warmth of a February blizzard.
Before Calista’s eyes Joshua’s shoulders sagged, his chin dipped to bury into his chest, and his spine curled. He'd turned into a boy. It was so disappointing, yet understandable. Whether mother of the year, or a hell spawned demon, it wasn’t easy defying a parent.
Was he going to obey his mother and climb into the limo? And if he did, would she ever see the boy again? Judging by the fury on his mother’s face, Calista wasn’t sure.
She pulled up next to Joshua, planning to stop him from going further when he halted well out of her reach.
“Hi, Mom.” His voice was small with none of the brash effervesce of youth Calista had become accustomed to. “H-How did you find me?”
“Find you?” she ground out, her voice hot enough to blister. “I never lost you!”
Calista wasn’t surprised. Lynda keeping track of her paycheck—AKA son—made perfect sense. The boy must have a tracker planted somewhere on him, probably his phone. Too late to take it from him. Once they got on the way, she’d ditch it. Not looking forward to that argument.
“I said get in the car,” Lynda half hissed, half growled, and glanced at the bodyguard next to her. Calista had no doubt if she and Sunny hadn’t sandwiched Joshua between them, there wouldn’t be a standoff. Joshua would’ve been snatched out of his sneakers and tossed into the car.
“No, Mom. I’m not going with you.” Reduced by fifty percent, his voice was even smaller than before.
Lynda’s gaze bounced between Calista and Sunny, a crack of confusion showing in her fury. “Joshua.” Her toned moderately better. “We need to talk, so get in the car.”
“We talked already, Mom…but you don’t listen,” he murmured, though his voice carried.
“I’d listen if you made sense!” Hands fisted, they shook at her sides.
“I’d make sense if you didn’t talk over me,” he grumbled.
“Joshua, sweetheart, please, I just want to close this rift between us. That’s why I’m here. For you.” Lynda switched from wielding a big stick to dangling a carrot. Calista watched Joshua to see if it worked.
Joshua seemed to shrink further into himself. “Um. Yeah…no. You’re here for yourself, Mom.”
“Joshua.” She came to him slowly, her bodyguard trailing behind her.
Behind Calista, footsteps echoed on the gangplank. She expected Julius, instead it was Edwards protecting their rear. Relief washed through her. The toxicity between Julius and Lynda would incite not help this situation.
Lynda hugged her son, both stiff as boards, no give, no take. No parent child synergy. Calista couldn’t help thinking about her mother and what she wouldn’t give to feel her arms around her. Then her thoughts went to Harvey and her heart ached. Death is the great equalizer. Her father was dying and she—they—would never feel their arms around each other. Had he hugged her? Sometimes a memory of his arms around her flitted through her brain, just not the feeling of being in his arms, protected by her daddy. Brittle, soul-sucking sadness consumed her.
Was it too late to go to Switzerland? Probably, especially when she had no idea where in Switzerland to go. Erica knew. Calista shut down her rambling thoughts and focused on Joshua. She had to get him out of here.
“Come home, Josh. We’ll fix everything. It’s not too late.”
“How, Mom, when you’ll never let me go? You promised to turn over the company when I turned eighteen. Then you promised to teach me. None of it was true.”
“What are you talking about, Josh?” she snapped staring up into her son’s troubled face as she gripped his shoulders.
“The documents you wanted me to sign transferring controlling interest exclusively to you. Think I wouldn’t find them in all the stacks of paperwork you sent me to sign?” He laughed dryly. “You taught me how to read, Mom. Don’t be surprised when I do.”
Eyes big as dinner plates, Lynda failed to stifle a gasp. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You tried to steal the company out from under me at pennies on the dollar. You know what’s funny, Mom, I would’ve given you the stock. All I wanted was to work with you, but you didn’t want to give up control. You wanted me under your thumb, like I’ve always been. Thought I was too weak to ever get out from under you.”
“That’s not true, Josh,” she cried, a desperate edge to her voice.
He ignored her as if she hadn’t spoken a word. “Thought I’d believe all the lies about Julius. But I can read, Mom. All I had to do was google and do a little research. When that wasn’t enough, I hired a PI who told me about my brother. He’s an asshole, but not an evil asshole. I can live with that.”
“And you can’t live with me?” she snarled, her nails dug into his shirt, probably into his skin. Calista was a second from peeling him away and stepping between them.
Joshua’s chin dipped and buried into his chest. “I love you, Mom.” He pulled her hands off his shoulders and with a sharp pivot, walked up the gangplank, shoulders hunched, head still buried. His mother rooted to where her son had left her, watched, fury returning to her face, probably permanently.
“Make sure they leave, then we get the hell out of here.” Calista ordered Edwards and Sunny, then took off after Joshua.
He moved fast. Calista had to jog and caught up with him at his suite. He almost closed the door in her face, but she wasn’t having it. She pushed her way in, noted the décor and amenities were upscale from her own, and took a seat on the leather sofa opposite the bed.
“Get out,” he said halfheartedly and propped himself against the headboard.
Of course, he had a bar in his room. Bacardi, Patron, Nigel Walker, Grey Goose, Fireball, and Hennessey. He was well stocked. She rose and poured them both a finger of Fireball. He downed it and sputtered for a full minute afterwards. Calista sipped, notes of cinnamon and sugar on her tongue. It tasted like candy. She could get addicted to this.
The boat thrummed, coming alive. She had no idea where they were heading. It was good the decision was out of her hands, along with her decision to go to Switzerland. It was for the best, right? They sat quietly for a while, the silence comfortable. She liked Joshua. He was bright and interesting when she expected him to be shallow and self-absorbed. He had depth for one so young.
“You thought I was gonna buckle and get in the limo like a good little boy, didn’t you?” he whined, his full lips in a pout, his body stretched out on the bed.
No reason to lie. “I did and was prepared to stop you.”
“For Julius? For the deal?” he asked with no malice.
“I don’t know anything about the deal. That’s none of my business. I was going to stop you because I don’t like your mother. I don’t know her, but I can tell she’s a bitch.”
“Got that right,” he grumbled, rolling the empty tumbler in his hand.
“I didn’t trust her not to hurt you.” A thought crossed her mind, disturbing her. “Has she ever…” How to phrase it without upsetting him? “Has she ever hurt you, Joshua?” Was his petulance more than a rich kid acting out?
His snort turned into a dry laugh. “You’re asking if my mother kicked my ass?” He doubled over, laughing harder without any humor in the broken, raspy sound. “She wouldn’t risk a broken nail to hit me.”
He sounded sad, wistful even. Then it hit her, and she understood. A starving child will eat anything put in front of it. Even if that child is starving for attention. Until he doesn’t want it anymore.
“Joshua, I’m so—”
“Don’t,” he snarled and lurched upright. “I don’t want anything from you, you got it?”
She got it.
“And don’t go flapping your lips to your boyfriend.” His snarl sounded more like
a plea.
“I won’t tell Julius,” she swore and meant it. Joshua’s story was his to tell, not hers. She wouldn’t betray his trust. They sat in silence, sipping their drinks, each lost in their own thoughts. “Are you excited about the partnership?”
“With Julius, absolutely.” His grin lit his entire face. “I get to learn from the best, my brother.”
Hero worship was in effect. Calista was happy for them. Maybe they could have a real relationship. Be best friends. Be siblings.
Calista suspected she wouldn’t have that opportunity. “How do you feel about working with Erica Bryn?”
Joshua shrugged nonchalantly. “Okay, I guess. My mother wanted the merger with Bryn Conglomerate. Erica approached me with a better proposition.”
Savvy of her sister to scope out a better deal and cut the legs off the competition. And ruthless. Harvey must be proud of his little girl. She wasn’t the chip off the old block, she was the block, just wearing Louboutins and carrying a Birkin. “Did you know her before?”
“In passing. I hang with a friend of a friend of a brother. Six degrees of separation type situation.” He summed, then leaned forward. “She likes to party but there’s no one serious in her life. My mom did the research. Mom thought she was holding out for a big fish and thought that was me.” He threw back his head and cackled, then sobered once he realized what he’d said, and to whom.
But it was too late to reel the words back into his mouth. Erica held out for Julius. He was the big fish her sister wanted. Well wasn’t that just fucking peachy!
Calista’s cell vibrated on her hip. She was grateful for the distraction even though she silently screamed, What now? Would this day ever end? Apparently not. She freed her phone and stroked her thumb across the screen. One text message. Unknown sender.
Ms. Coleman. This is Errol. I’m sorry to inform you of the passing of your father. He suffered a heart attack. He signed a do not resuscitate. You have my deepest condolences.
“Hey, hey! Are you okay?”
Joshua was in front of her. How he got there, she had no clue. Her automatic answer was, “Yeah, yes. I’m fine.” Lie. Lie. Lie.
A kick to the chest would’ve been gentler and swifter. Pain unfurled in her center, growing exponentially. As it was, she couldn’t catch her breath and her head was a balloon about to explode. “I gotta go.”
Somehow, she made it to the hallway, only slumping against the wall when the door closed behind her. Well this was unexpected, the gnawing pain stealing her breath, spreading through her chest. Driving her to her knees.
Harvey Bryn was gone. Any conversation, any secrets, truths or lies, the opportunity was over. She knew it was coming. Now, it was here. How could she possibly be startled by this outcome? Yet here she was. Deer caught in the headlights. One parent gone. One more to go.
I can’t lose her. I just can’t.
A scream bubbled in her throat. Somehow, she stifled it as she gripped the wall and straightened her spine. It wasn’t easy, took everything she had to force her feet to work, to propel her forward. Her first instinct was to be alone. To go somewhere and bury herself for a few hours and cry it all out, alone. She shared her pain with no one.
But now she had Julius. And she needed him. His strength. His will. The shelter of his arms. Him. Desperately. If only for a few minutes to gather her strength before leaving him to get to her mother. Though she may not understand, she deserved to hear the news from someone who loved her. If Calista could summon the bravery to tell her.
She stumbled through the hallway and upstairs to the owner’s deck, then to the suite Julius had claimed until the master suite was cleaned.
She didn’t knock, didn’t think she had to when she gripped the knob and turned—to see two bodies pressed together, lips locked, arms around each other, lost in the moment. Three seconds precisely. That’s how long it took for the bodies to yank apart and for her to realize it was Julius and Erica.
Chapter 41
The shock on his face was palpable, mimicking the blinding hurt stabbing her heart. “Calista.”
Her name was a shock of ice water down her back. She spun. Never had she run from a damn thing in her life. Today, she was an Olympic sprinter.
“Calista, stop!”
She took off, silently praying the yacht wasn’t too far from the dock for her to swim to shore, knowing she swam with all the grace of a lead ball. With a gun on her hip, the alternative would be bloody.
“Julius!” Erica called.
Calista paused long enough to see him turn back to Erica. They met in the hallway, murmuring words too low to hear. They looked good together. A power couple prepared to take on the world. Hatred mingled with the agony expanding in her chest. It was déjà vu all over again, though it wasn’t her memory she relived. That honor belonged to her mother.
The Bluetooth crackled in her ear. She reached into her pocket and switched the radio off. The Bluetooth joined the radio in her pocket. She was done being his bodyguard. Calista kept going, up to the deck, which was stupid when that wasn’t how to get off the damn yacht. Not that she could get off the fucking boat with it currently in the middle of the river, she discovered when she reached the railing near the pool. Water, water, everywhere with a smattering of smaller boats tooling along. A boat this big had to have a motorboat for shallow ports. She latched on to the first crewman she came upon—a wiry man, shorter than her with leathery skin and sun-bleached hair. “The motorboat to take me back to shore. Where is it?”
“You desire the tender to leave the yacht?”
Tender? Is that what it’s called? “Yeah, the tender.”
“This way, madame,” said in accented French with a sharp bow. He wasn’t moving fast enough. She gripped his elbow, shushed his surprised outburst, and hustled him along. Off the Titanic was what she needed, right damn now.
He led her to an elevator. Three levels down they exited onto the lower aft deck, one level up from the engine room, and there was the tender, a sleek, futuristic boat on a hydraulic lift which, at any other time, she would’ve been delighted to climb aboard for a joy ride. Today, it was her getaway car. “Do you know how to drive that thing?”
“Oui, madame.” The crewman’s head bobbed. He opened a panel on the wall and pulled down a lever. The wall next to the tender retracted, creating an opening for the tender to slide free of the yacht and drop into the river. “I must inform the captain to stop the Chrysalis for the tender to detach.”
“Do it.” She motioned for him to hurry up.
“Yes, ma’am.” He crossed to a phone on a nearby wall, leaving Calista to pace.
Trapped, that’s how she felt. Trapped in Germany, on a yacht with her sister and Julius. The minute Erica exited the limo Calista should’ve ran. So much for not seeing the writing on the wall. As soon as a better prospect came along, Julius took it. The heiress versus the bodyguard. It wasn’t even a contest.
Footsteps echoed on the stairs next to the elevator. Muscles tense, heart racing, she braced, prepared for an epic confrontation. “Calista, what’s going on?” Scotts cleared the steps and came strolling up to her.
“What are you doing here?” she snapped, looking over his shoulder and disappointed no one else was there.
“Watched you on the camera manhandling Nigel. He’s not spry. Liable to give him a heart attack.” He glanced at the tender. “You going somewhere?”
Nigel? That’s when she noticed the nametag on the crewman. “Yeah, Scotts. I’m leaving.” She nudged Nigel toward the tender. “Let’s get going.”
Nigel hung up the phone. With an apologetic frown, he said, “Permission to take the tender back to the mainland was denied.”
“Goddamnit!” Where the fuck is he? She stomped toward the stairs.
“Where are you going?” Scotts followed behind her.
The radio squawked on Nigel’s hip. “Keep Ms. Coleman there.” The order came from the bridge.
Scotts frowned. His eyes narrowed
and his hands went loose at his side. “What the fuck is going on?” His gaze darted between her and Nigel, looking for a target.
The elevator dinged before she could explain. Calista steeled her spine because, she knew, without a doubt, who waited on the other side of the door. Sure enough, Julius exited the elevator.
“Now, it makes sense,” Scotts mumbled and edged away, taking Nigel with him.
Julius eyed Nigel and Scotts before giving his attention to Calista. “Let me explain—”
Her snarl cut him off. “Do not tell me I didn’t see what I saw.” Lord help him if he did because she wouldn’t be responsible for her actions.
He stormed up to her, violating her personal space until all she could see was the handsome face she now hated. “Calista—”
Whatever he was about to say was drowned out by the rumble of a speedboat and the rat-tat-tat of an automatic weapon.
Chapter 42
Survival, first and foremost. Calista hit the deck, dragging Julius with her. Gun free, she used her body to cover him as bullets pinged the room, even as he made to flip her on her back, probably to shield her, the fool. She was the one with the weapon.
A scream rent the air, followed by the solid sound of a body hitting the deck. She looked to her right and stared at the hole between Nigel’s glassy eyes.
“Incoming!” Scotts shouted.
She looked over Nigel’s body to the open hull by the tender. Six heavily armed men dressed in tactical gear and ski masks climbed out of a speed boat and streamed into the Chrysalis
Her fault. Nigel had opened the section for her to leave and now he was dead.
Calista pushed the thought away and focused on the now. The yacht boarded by armed gunmen. One man was dead and more would follow. Beneath her Julius gripped her tightly. Splayed on top of him, she peered into his eyes and found concern, not fear.
“Are you hit?” he asked, running his hands down her body.
The familiarity of his hands and his presumption that he could still freely touch her body pissed her off.
Plain Jane and the Billionaire (Plain Jane Series) Page 27
