by Lexy Timms
“Because killing me got him his seat, and killing you got you out of his way? You could’ve overpowered him in a second. Hell, you did that night,” he said.
“That’s one way to look at it. Another way to look at it is to theorize that he was talking with someone else running the show. Someone else who’d bribed him or threatened him and wanted you to step away from your company. I get hired, I follow you around, and it’s only a matter of time before they want me dead too. Remember, Jacob was someone under the assumption that I was your girlfriend. He never knew I was your bodyguard.”
“Holy shit, you’re right.”
“So why would he elect to kill some feeble woman on your arm?” I asked.
Derek buried his face in his hands and heaved a heavy sigh. The relaxed, open, happy man in Hawaii was gone and had quickly been replaced with the man I’d met. The high-strung, close-minded, overworked businessman who was having a hard time understanding anything going on around him.
“So what do we do now?” he asked. “Where do we go from here?”
“We continue doing what we’ve been doing. Until Jacob is caught and until you feel safe again, we stay. Continue our surveillance. Monitoring his accounts. You keep on with your company, rebuilding businesses and turning them around. John and I will keep providing protection, and I’ll stay on your heels. We keep you safe until this is wrapped up.”
“And what if this doesn’t wrap up? Hm? What if it never stops?”
I slid my hand into Derek’s, slowly prying it from his face. I laced our fingers together, trying to draw on the last of the Hawaiian warmth from his skin. He turned his eyes toward mine, and I saw how desperate he was, how tired he was of this already, and how anxious he was to get back to his life.
“It will,” I said. “Because I’m the one running this show. It always gets resolved with me. My track record shows that.”
“Your track record shows no one gets killed with you,” he said.
“That, too, but I’ve never had a case I couldn't wrap up. Ever. Remember our conversation about scorekeeping? What’s my ideal number?”
“Zero,” he said with a sigh.
“Exactly. And that’s not changing with you, so get some rest. Prepare yourself to go back to work. You have a company that needs you and a facade you need to keep up. Your media presence isn’t exactly fantastic, so that mask you keep on is going to be important now more than ever.”
“I know,” he said as he straightened his back. “I know.”
“Promise me one thing, Derek.”
“What can I promise the most beautiful woman in the world?”
“Remember to take showers. You really stink if you don’t.”
We laughed on the edge of my bed, trying to push the stress away with the joy we were trying to recreate. Derek released my hand, slid it behind my body, and then rubbed my back to try and soothe me. He knew I felt the way he did. He knew the stress was mounting on my shoulders again as well. Not only were we trying to save his life, but now we were trying to conceal a budding relationship from the team so no one tried to remove me from my post. Derek was right. The emotions I felt whenever I was with him made me better at what I did. They made me want to help him more, and they motivated me more than ever to figure out where the hell this son of a bitch was.
It made me hungry for justice, and that was fuel I was going to need for the ride ahead.
“I should finish unpacking,” Derek said as he stood.
“And then, you get some rest. Your email can wait until tomorrow,” I said.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a grin. “If you feel it’s best.”
Chapter 15
Derek
I KEPT TURNING SAM’S words around in my head. She was right. The media was still trying to eat me alive despite the official press releases through the public relations sector of my company. And it was brutal. The speculation and conspiracy theories that were catching on were starting to affect my stocks again. The wild theories on popular blogs were permeating through the public faster than I could swat them away, people who thought Jacob worked for some terrible government and some who thought he was a spy of some sort, a Russian or an Italian mobster sent to spy on one of the nation’s greatest financial holding companies. It was absurd, and everyone kept telling me that the only way to get around it was to do a personal and exclusive interview with someone.
So I called the only person who I felt could do the story justice.
“Derek?”
“Hello, Gretch.”
“What in the world are you doing calling me?”
“I’ve been taking a great deal of personal hits in the press, and I can’t seem to get out in front of them. I figured a little friendly press from someone whose career could use it would be of use to both of us,” I said.
“Wait. You’re willing to give me an exclusive interview?” she asked.
“I am. Whatever questions you want to ask minus anything feeding these wild conspiracy theories.”
“People get pretty intense, don’t they?”
“So, what do you say?” I asked.
“I say let’s get started. Give me a second to gather my things.”
I knew going to one of my exes might prove to be a fatal move, but she was the only other person I trusted at this point. If my own public relations sector of my company couldn't field this, then I knew she could. She was bold and brash, and while her pieces garnered her a lot of hate, it was hate from the right people. That kind of hate could fuel a career, but the only exclusive interview from the world’s most popular man right now would also do her some good.
Plus, it would flush the story immediately to the national syndicates and hopefully stop all this speculation in its tracks.
“Okay. I need you to understand that this phone call is being recorded. If you want something off the record, state that you want it as such so I can stop the recording,” Gretchen said.
“I can do that,” I said.
“Have you run this by your investors?” she asked.
“I run my company. My investors don’t. Trust me, this is the best move I have, and I want to thank you for helping me with it.”
“Then here we go. So, Derek Steele. When did all of this start?”
“It started with mysterious letters I was getting to my office,” I said, “letters insinuating that if I didn’t step down from my position and give up my company, someone would be sent to kill me. I thought it was absurd until there was an attack at my home.”
“What do you mean by an attack?” she asked.
“There was a breach on my property and letters started arriving at my home, threatening letters outlining everything from how I was going to die to outlining all the charities I needed to donate my money to before stepping down from my company. Some letters outlined my work schedules, others my personal schedule. You know, to prove to me that the person had access.”
“Was Jacob one of your top suspects?”
“On the contrary. Mr. Carl wasn’t even on our radar.”
“Walk us through what happened the night of the gunfire attack,” she said.
“My personal bodyguard was in the building with me at the time. Jacob slipped into my office, started talking about how I was born into success and how I didn’t have to work hard for anything I created. Then, he leveled a gun at my chest.”
“But you seem fine. You didn’t get hurt?” she asked.
“No. My bodyguard took the bullet for me.”
“Have you always had a personal bodyguard?”
“No. I hired an elite bodyguard and personal security team when things became serious, when the threat started following me home and finding its way into my office instead of merely my mailbox. But of all the suspects we pinned down and were researching, never once did Jacob’s name cross anyone’s radar.”
“Not even your personal security team’s?” she asked.
“In their defense, my feelings and my relationship wit
h Mr. Carl swayed their eyes away from him. It’s not their fault that none of them saw this coming. It was a shock for all of us, but one that has brought on new threats.”
“Is your company still in trouble, Mr. Steele?”
“My company was never in trouble to begin with. It was always me and the threats to my life. The only thing Mr. Carl sought was my position. He felt it was a debt owed to him because he was not born to an affluent family. But he was born to a hard-working family. His mother was a call-center clerk, and his father was a janitor. They sacrificed everything so he could have what he needed to climb to the position he held. I don’t want this reflecting badly on them. This was the decision of a man who idolized the position I’m currently in with my company and thought he could kill me to get it. This is not the result of some twisted sort of parenting tactic.”
“You sound like you care about his family,” she said.
“I’ve known Mr. Carl for many years. I’ve met his parents on several occasions. They’re beautiful people who make companies like mine the successes they are. I don’t have a company without people like his parents.”
“You mentioned other threats. What other threats has this incident exposed?”
“There are some thoughts and theories as to why Mr. Carl has not been caught yet. The most prevalent is that he had a way to escape should he have been caught. Right now, my team is researching the idea that he might have fled the country to a place with no extradition laws.”
“If that’s the case, what happens then?”
“The FBI and Interpol are on the lookout for him. If he surfaces, we’ll know. If he has fled to a country that has no laws in place to turn him over to us, then I hope they’ll come to the table for peaceful negotiations on how we can all get what we want.”
“And what is it you want, Mr. Steele?”
“What I want is for Jacob to surrender peacefully to the authorities. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt in this debacle. I want him to be tried fairly and honestly, and I want to see his parents left alone. The media is hounding them, and they have no right to terrorize their lives any longer. Mr. Carl has done that enough for them,” I said.
“Let’s turn the conversation over to your company. Your stocks have been volleying in the market. Does that worry you?” Gretchen asked.
“No, it doesn’t. I rarely pay attention to what the stock market does in terms of my company anyway. I’m here to help failing companies get back up on their feet and stay running. I’m not here to have the superior stock or even to have the superior holding company. I’m here to help. That’s the premise my business was built on, and it’ll stay that way. Even through this.”
“You expect things to return to normal soon?”
“This is a highly unusual situation, and I think we can all agree on that. So yes, things will return to normal soon. My company is comprised of strong, independent men and women all working together toward one common goal. With that strength, we will pull through this just like we will anything else that comes our way.”
“I have to ask because everyone is wondering who’s up to become your next COO?”
“I guess you’ll have to stay tuned and find out,” I said with a grin.
“Off the record?”
I furrowed my brow as I drew in a deep breath.
“I didn’t know the reporter could go off the record,” I said.
“Those were all the questions I wanted to ask. I merely wanted to let you know that I was done recording you,” Gretchen said.
“Okay then. Well, if you need anythi—”
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Excuse me?”
“Personally. How are you doing, Derek?”
Her tone of voice was soft. Soothing. Exactly how I remembered it from when we dated. I leaned back in my leather chair and sighed, allowing my eyes to close and my mind to clear
“I’m frustrated,” I said. “This entire ordeal has been going on for two months, and I’m ready for it to be over.”
“Two months? Derek, when did these letters start?”
“You sure we’re off the record?” I asked.
“You have my solemn vow,” she said.
“At the beginning of May.”
“We’re a few days away from July, Derek.”
“I get that, Gretch. Like I said. I’m frustrated, but all in all, I’m fine. I’m getting back to my normal routine, my elite security team has me locked down wherever I go, and I trust the authorities have their eyes peeled for Jacob.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m so sorry for what you’re going through. Good thing you’ve got that girlfriend helping you,” she said.
“Thanks, but I don’t have a girlfriend,” I said.
“I’m still not convinced of that.”
“I can hear your smirk.”
“You should, because it’s there. Look, running into you in Vegas with that woman in your suite, I’m convinced she’s your girlfriend. The way she was ready to defend you with that cute little gun and everything, that’s not a personal assistant. That’s not a bodyguard. That’s a girlfriend, a protective, worried girlfriend.”
I took pause, allowing her words to sink in deep. If there was one thing Gretchen had been throughout the entirety of our relationship, it was observant. She was an excellent judge of character and was always spot-on with how I was feeling, even if I was trying to cover things up and even if I was trying to hide it from her. She always knew what was running through my mind, so her being insistent on a connection like that held merit to me.
It didn’t mean I was going to open a dialogue about it with her, but her opinion and insight still held up as trustworthy in my book.
“I’m just saying. It’s not my place as a reporter or as a former girlfriend. I’m simply telling you what I saw,” she said.
“Well, thank you for the interview. It’s going to help me a great deal,” I said.
“Dodging the insight, I see.”
“You never could turn off that reporter’s mind.”
“So sue me. Anyway, thank you for the interview as well. An exclusive interview with the most wondered about man in the country right now is going to be very helpful for my career.”
“Let me know when you’re going to run it,” I said. “I’d like to keep an eye out for it.”
“You mean you’ll be ready to slaughter me if it’s not up to par with the tone you want it written in.”
“Other businessmen might work that way, but I don’t. I gave you my answers, and they were honest. I trust you’ll paint me in the light my interview is deserving of,” I said.
“I’ll let you know when it’s set to run. Have a good evening, Derek. And stay safe.”
“You too. And I will be. Money can buy lots of things, and that includes top-notch protection.”
“Any other day, I would’ve scoffed at that comment. But tonight, it’s a slightly different story.”
“Good night, Gretch.”
“Good night, Derek.”
Chapter 16
Sam
I FELT MY PHONE VIBRATING on my hip as I sat in my room. Derek was in his office, doing whatever the hell he thought he needed to do even though he wasn’t at work. I was staring out the window, watching guys case the perimeter of Derek’s compound. I’d call it a home, but between the electronic security, the personal security, and the sheer amount of land and home this man owned, it was more like a compound.
A decadent prison waiting to be breached.
My phone on my hip started to vibrate, and I scrambled for it. At this hour at night, it could only be one person. My heart thumped hard against my chest as I picked it up, wondering why the hell John was calling me at this time of the evening.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yep. Just giving you a status report.”
“There’s no shift change happening right now. What’s going on?”
“Do you know if Mr. Steele has professio
nal landscapers?” John asked.
“I’m sure he does with all this land. Why?”
“Figure out what he sprays on his lawn. One of the guys came back from walking the perimeter, and he’s covered from head to toe in hives and shit. Think he’s come into contact with something he’s allergic to.”
“I’ll ask him. Send the guy to a doctor and then home to rest. We got someone who can fill his spot for the night?”
“Already taken care of. I wanted to update you. But, can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” I said.
“Funny. But besides your dry sense of humor, this job’s getting pretty boring, don’t you think?”
“Sorry we haven’t been shot at lately?”
“It’s not that, Sam.”
“Then what is it? Spit it out, John. I hate it when you beat around the bush,” I said.
“I don’t think Jacob’s coming back. He’s run underground. That much is for certain. And I don’t think his plan is to resurface and come after Mr. Steele personally.”
“You got any proof to back that up?”
“You mean besides two weeks of absolute silence? Look, I don’t mind the money. It’s a great paycheck, but I don’t think we should be spending too much time on a low-risk job.”
“This is no more low-risk than when we first took it. You know as well as I do that just because bullets aren’t flying doesn’t mean the risk factor is mitigated.”
“I think we’re getting a bit soft is all,” he said.
Shit.
I knew exactly where this was going.
“How long have you known, John?”
“Put the pieces together when you were shot. You didn’t push Mr. Steele out of the way. You jumped in front of the bullet.”
Fuck. Was that really my tell now?
“We’re staying on this assignment until Jacob is caught. I’ve never lost a client, and I don’t plan on ruining that record simply because you’re getting bored,” I said.
