by Dee Davis
"Stop it. Both of you." She crossed her arms, somehow looking both vulnerable and invincible all at the same time. "I’m going to the gala with Jules. Uncle Vincent has agreed to escort us." She glanced over at him and he nodded. "The two of you can work out whatever needs to be done security-wise and we’ll take it from there." Her gaze moved from one to the other, daring either of them to argue.
"Fine," Blake said. And Sloan nodded his agreement, smothering what looked to be a smile. Blake glanced down at his watch. "Damn it. I’m due at a meeting. What time are you being released?"
"She’s ready to go," Sloan said.
"Well, then I’ll just call and cancel." He pulled out his cell phone.
"That’s not necessary. I can take her," Vincent offered. "No problem."
"Good, then it’s all settled," Blake said quickly, before Sloan could interject and volunteer his services. "You’ll take her to the apartment and Jules can pick up whatever she needs."
"She is beginning to feel invisible." Emily lay back against the pillows, looking exhausted.
"Of course you’re not invisible," Blake soothed. "Vincent and I just want to take care of you, that’s all. And Sloan, well, his job is to do whatever it is he does."
Sloan ignored Blake’s words, his attention centered on Emily. "Em?" he asked, his eyebrows rising in question. "Are you sure you’ll be okay? I can stay if you want me to."
"No. I’m fine. I promise."
"And you’ll let Vincent take you to your father’s."
"I will." She shot a mutinous look in Blake’s direction. "At least for tonight."
"I promise I’ll look out for her," Vincent said, his face still pinched with worry.
"I know you will."
Blake fought an urge to punch the man in the mouth. How dare he speak as if he had some kind of claim on Emily?
"If you need me," Sloan squeezed her hand, "I’m only a phone call away."
Blake opened his mouth to argue and then thought better of it. Best to let things play out for now. They needed Sloan’s cooperation. And Blake needed to clean up his mess. Then, after everything died down and Emily was safe and in the clear, he’d figure a way to cut Sloan out of her life for good.
CHAPTER 8
"I THOUGHT I MIGHT find you here," Declan said as he walked into the Dog and Duck.
Gideon had been sitting in the bar for an hour or more, staring into his glass and getting exactly nowhere, his thoughts lost in the past and caught up with the present, the two seeming irrevocably tangled.
"Whiskey." Declan nodded at the barkeep as he slid onto the barstool next to Gideon’s. "Neat." He waited until the woman had filled a glass before sitting back, his gaze settling on Gideon as he took a long sip. "Looks like you survived your run-in with Masterson."
"Nothing to survive." Gideon picked up his glass, staring down into the amber liquid.
Rough Rider was a small-batch bourbon produced at a little distillery in Long Island.
Every sip reminded him of a weekend he and Emily had spent at a little bed and breakfast near Montauk. They’d been touring wineries when they stumbled across the distillery and after imbibing more than they probably should have, they bought a couple of bottles and spent the rest of the trip finding decadent new uses for bourbon.
It had been an amazing weekend. But at the time he hadn’t given it the credit it deserved. Hell, he’d thought they’d have a thousand more just like it. He’d been wrong.
"I’m not sure I can agree with that," Declan was saying, the words cutting through Gideon’s memories. "You may be a lot more powerful than you were ten years ago, but I’m guessing Blake Masterson hasn’t exactly been slouching around growing soft. And the last thing he wants is you back in his life. Or, more accurately, his daughter’s life."
"I’m not in his life, Declan. Or in hers. At least not like that. I’m just doing my job." He drained the glass and signaled the girl for another.
"Keep telling yourself that." Declan’s response was mumbled, but Gideon heard him nevertheless.
"Look, I told you before, she needs my help. More than ever now. Someone tried to kill her." His fingers tightened around the glass. "I can’t just let that go. If I hadn’t gotten there when I did…"
"But you did get there. And Emily’s going to be fine."
"Until the next time." He blew out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment, seeing her again in her tub. "Christ, Declan, when I burst into that bathroom I thought she was already dead."
"So I’m assuming you told Masterson everything?"
"And her uncle. I don’t see that I had a choice. Emily needs protection and they’re in a better position than most to give it to her."
"Assuming they’re playing for our side."
Gideon shrugged. "While it’s true that the only side Blake Masterson’s ever played is his own, I don’t believe for a moment he’d do something that would actually hurt his daughter. And, for the moment at least, I have no reason to doubt Vincent."
"Isn’t that exactly what he did when he threw you under the bus? I mean, he ruined her relationship, too."
"Yeah, well, she didn’t exactly fight her father on any of it. She could have come to me. Asked me for the real truth. But she didn’t. Instead, she chose her father. What the hell was I supposed to have done with that?"
"Gone to her?"
"How? With a collect call from Rikers?"
"When you got out then. After Charlie stepped in."
Charlie was the name they’d given the man who’d pulled Gideon out of the hell Masterson had thrust him into. It was sort of a joke, naming the guy after the hero of an old ‘70s television show, but in truth there were a hell of a lot of similarities. Like the guy in the show, their Charlie kept to the shadows, never revealing himself to any of them. He’d also fronted them the money for Triad. And even though Gideon had paid him back in full, he still kept tabs on Triad’s activities, offering information and guidance when warranted. He was a guardian of sorts. Although unlike the TV show, Gideon and company were the opposite of angels.
Declan was frowning. "I mean, Charlie offered you paperwork to prove it was Masterson behind the oil scheme and not you. Hell, you had the chance to destroy him."
"Yeah, but at what cost? I’d have destroyed Emily in the process. Which would only have shown that I was as bad as her father made me out to be. Pushing everything back onto Blake Masterson would have fucked up her life."
"Cutting your nose off to spite your face, if you ask me. Emily’s strong; she would have survived."
"Yeah, but she and I together still wouldn’t have. And besides, even though I couldn’t see destroying her the way her father had tried to destroy me, that doesn’t mean I was ready to forgive and forget."
"So then what the hell are we doing now? You saved her. And she’s safely back with her fucked-up father. I’d say you’ve done more than enough. Unless you want her back?"
Gideon drained his glass, the whiskey burning as he swallowed. "I just want to see this through. Find out who is behind Irwin’s death and the attempt on Emily’s life and put a stop to it."
"We’re not bodyguards, Gideon. We fix things. Emily isn’t even officially a client."
"Damn it, Declan, just leave it." Gideon shot Declan a look somewhere between exasperation and apology.
He hadn’t meant to snap, but shit, sometimes his friend couldn’t leave well enough alone. His feelings for Emily were confusing at best, totally fucked up at worst, but either way he sure as hell wasn’t in the mood to talk about them.
Ever.
"So I’m assuming you didn’t come over here just for the sparkling conversation," he said, firmly steering the conversation away from all things personal.
"Well," Declan shrugged, taking a sip of his drink, "there is the bourbon. Plus, I wanted to tell you that they found a wine cork stuck in a fold of the garbage bag in the trash bin under Emily’s kitchen sink."
"And?" He looked up to meet his friend’s gaze.<
br />
Declan’s lips lifted into a smile. "Paige found cabernet and traces of GHB in cross sections of the cork. She thinks the drug was injected into the wine through the cork. A needle prick wouldn’t have been visible to the naked eye."
"We should test any other wine in the brownstone. If one bottle was tainted, there’s a good chance others will be as well."
"Already ahead of you. The team is checking any food or drink in the house that might be injectable. Better to be safe. Hell, I even had them check the dog food."
"Ah, shit." Gideon pushed his barstool back from the counter. "I forgot the damn dog. I promised Emily I’d get him to her father’s."
"You’re actually going to invade Blake Masterson’s inner sanctum?"
"I thought I might. Although when you say it like that… Still, it’s not like I’m afraid of the bastard."
"I’m not sure that you shouldn’t be. You know better than most that he plays dirty."
"Yeah, well so do I." He blew out a frustrated breath. "But you’re right. Emily doesn’t need the added tension. Maybe I’ll just send one of the guys. Where is Bailey anyway?"
"I took him to the office. My landlord isn’t exactly pet-receptive. And I’m already in enough trouble after throwing Ryder’s birthday party up on the roof." It hadn’t exactly been a sedate affair.
"I told you to run it by the dude."
"Yeah, but then he could have said no." Declan shrugged with a grin.
"You should have at least invited him."
"That was definitely an oversight. Next time."
"Like he’s going to let that happen again."
"So what’s next on the agenda?" Declan asked, swallowing the last of his bourbon.
Gideon grinned, already enjoying the prospect of ruining Declan’s evening. "You get to don your monkey suit."
"What the hell for?" Declan hated all things fancy. Especially when they involved the upper crust of Manhattan.
"We’re going to the Delacort gala. Emily has to go. And I want to be sure nothing happens to her while she’s there."
"Why don’t you let Ryder and me go while you sit this one out?" Declan’s words were as subtle as an IED. He wanted Gideon to steer clear of Emily. Which probably wasn’t a bad idea, but Gideon had never been fond of taking the easy way.
"Nah, I promised I’d do it." He threw down a couple of twenties and pushed away from the bar. "And besides, it’s kind of fun to watch Masterson go all twitchy and red-faced when I walk into the room."
"Just make sure you know what you’re doing, bro. If you need me to scrape you up off the floor again, Ryder and I will be there, but, just saying, I’d rather not go through that again. And the best way I can think of to avoid that is for you to avoid Emily Masterson."
"Duly noted," Gideon said, the two of them heading out the door. "But that’s not going to happen."
And, at least for the moment, he wasn’t going to ask himself why.
*****
"I ASKED YOU TO see that the problem was taken care of, not eliminated." Blake looked down into the depths of his cognac, wishing to hell it would magically present a way out of the mess he’d made.
"I’m not sure I follow. From where I’m sitting things couldn’t have played out better." Douglas Colburn leaned back in his chair, eyeing Blake over the top of his snifter.
The two men were sitting in Blake’s office, the lights of the city washing the room with flashes of neon. Colburn had handled Blake’s delicate problems for over forty years. When something needed to be done, Colburn made it happen. Over the years, he’d built a network of go-to men. People that lived and thrived on the underbelly of society.
People who didn’t balk no matter the task.
Turned out, with someone like Colburn in his pocket, money could buy everything.
And Colburn’s job was to see that whatever Blake needed got done. Colburn had been the one to make sure that Gideon Sloan was framed. And he’d been the one to deal with the fallout when Gideon’s unexpected benefactor had shifted the terms of the game. They’d never figured out who the hell it was that had intervened on his behalf. Although Colburn had spent a year or more trying. But in the end everything had worked out anyway.
Blake had been protected and Sloan’s relationship with Emily had been destroyed.
Only now he was back. And Emily was in trouble. He toyed with the idea of telling Colburn everything. About Emily and Irwin. But it didn’t seem necessary, and the instinct to protect his own was hard to override.
"There has been unexpected collateral damage." He shrugged, keeping his voice fluid and unemotional. "And that’s being complicated by your man trying to clean up loose ends." ‘Cleaning up’ meaning threatening his daughter. Blake’s hand tightened on the crystal stem of his snifter.
"He isn’t my man, Blake," Colburn said, his expression masked. The man was a master at keeping his thoughts to himself. Which was both an asset and a liability. "Technically, he’s your problem, not mine. After all, you’re the one paying his fee."
"Yes, but I’m the one who pays you to keep him on a leash." Just for a moment Blake’s anger surfaced. He hated losing control. He lifted the glass and took a slow sip, the bitter drink giving him a moment to control his emotions. "Anyway, what I need now is for him to stand down. In fact, I’d prefer he disappear altogether."
"With the right incentive I’m sure that can be arranged." As usual, there was no reaction from Colburn. Which was why they’d had such a long and successful partnership.
"Then see it done. And in the meantime, I’ve got a new problem that needs fixing. A certain dragon has raised its ugly head—again. And this time I want to chop it off."
Colburn frowned. "I heard that Sloan was sniffing around your daughter." As usual Colburn was one step ahead of him. His friend waited a minute and then, with a shrug, spoke. "And I know the reason why."
"Son of a bitch. The bastard said his team had contained it."
"He did. To a point. But there are always people who talk."
"Of course there are. But what I want right now is to be sure that Sloan no longer has leverage against me. We know he had enough to get him released from prison. Which means he probably had enough to take me down. Why he didn’t when he had the chance I’ll never understand. But he didn’t."
"And so you want him taken out of the equation?"
"Jesus, you always talk like we’re in the middle of a fucking James Bond movie. I want the proof eliminated. I don’t care what you do to the man as long as none of it can be traced back to me. If he were to show Emily those papers…" He trailed off, unable to contain a shudder. There were prices he wasn’t willing to pay. Fortunately, he wasn’t going to have to. That’s why he’d cultivated his friendship with Colburn.
"I understand. Do you know for certain where they are?"
"I don’t even know for certain they exist. But if they do, he’ll have them in his loft. He’s not the kind of man to trust someone else with that which he holds valuable."
"Then consider it done." Colburn swirled his glass and took a long swallow. "I never liked the man anyway. It’ll be my pleasure to make sure that he’s neutralized."
"Good." Blake allowed himself to relax. "Just see that we keep it as simple as possible. If I’ve learned anything in this life, it’s that everything has unforeseen consequences. And while I don’t want Sloan to be a part of Emily’s life, I don’t want her hurt any more than necessary. She is my life, after all. And even though I need her to fall in line, I don’t actually want to break her."
Colburn lifted an eyebrow. "A rock and a hard place if ever there was one."
CHAPTER 9
"YOU SHOULD HAVE told me." Jules sat on the bed in Emily’s room, holding the peacock chiffon and silk gown she’d brought from the brownstone. Her expression held a mixture of frustration, horror, and concern. "You shouldn’t have had to deal with something like this on your own."
"I wasn’t alone," Emily said, meeting her friend’s
gaze in the mirror as she sat at her dressing table, contemplating what to do with her hair. "I had Gideon." Just the thought sent a wave of comfort washing through her. Stupid probably, but her heart didn’t seem to care.
"Gideon is hardly a white knight." Jules’ tone was dismissive. "He almost destroyed your father and broke your heart in the process."
"Yes, well, that was a long time ago, and I’m not trusting Gideon with my heart, just my safety." She knew the words were a lie the minute she spoke them, and from the look on Jules’ face, so did she.
"I just wish you’d called me instead of him."
Emily forced a smile she wasn’t anywhere close to feeling. Her head was pounding and her whole body ached. Jules had been waiting at the apartment for her when Uncle Vincent had brought her home. She’d known about the gas leak of course. But not the rest of it. And Emily hadn’t wanted to tell her anything more. Even if she could ignore the fact that Jules was an assistant DA, there was the not-so-insignificant fact that she was also running for city council.
But Uncle Vincent had convinced her that it would hurt Jules far worse if she found out after the fact that she’d been left in the dark. Some things just superseded logic. Friendship topping the list. And so she’d confessed everything.
In some way it had been a relief to finally share her burden. She’d never kept anything from Jules. Not even the details of Gideon’s betrayal. And yet, a little niggling part of her deep inside knew that telling anyone about the events of the past few days was dangerous. Maybe even more so for people she loved.
"I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t risk compromising your integrity. You’re a DA, for God’s sake."
"An assistant DA." Jules’ smile didn’t reach her eyes.
"Semantics. The point is you’re supposed to chase after the bad guys. And in this scenario, I don’t exactly come off looking like Snow White."
"If you think I’m going to tell anyone…" She trailed off, tossing the dress to the side, one hand clenching in anger. Bailey, who was lying on the floor at the end of the bed, raised his head, sensing the tension.
