The Steve Williams Series Boxed Set

by J. E. Taylor

  Desiree stood and raised a single eyebrow, wiping her smirking lips.

  “Shit.” He stared at her and ran his hand through his hair as the ramifications of what he almost allowed her to do finally raised their ugly heads. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  She shrugged. “I had to be sure you were committed to your girlfriend.”

  It was his turn to raise his eyebrows and he flopped onto the couch, rubbing his face with his hand. “And testing my commitment included giving me a blow job?”

  She strolled to the couch and took a seat next to him, offering him another half shrug in response. “I’m impressed. Most guys don’t stop me.”

  A bark of a laugh escaped and he scanned her again. “Yeah, well, you don’t know my girlfriend. She’d kill me for not throwing you out the door at the first come on.” Never mind the fact I let it go as far as it did. Jesus, what the hell was I thinking?

  “Well, now that we have that out of the way,” she began, smiling at the incredulous expression on his face, “tell me why I’m looking after your girlfriend.”

  Steve blinked at the sudden change from sexy seductress to cool businesswoman. His mind still reeled from his colossal mistake and he stumbled over words. “I, uh…”

  “Mr. Winchester, are you okay?”

  He laughed. “Don’t you think you should call me Steve after that?” He hooked his thumb toward the kitchen.

  Desiree smiled at him as if he was a simpleton. “I don’t mix business with pleasure, Mr. Winchester. Now would you please tell me what prompted you to request a body guard for your girlfriend?”

  He hadn’t caught up with her complete three hundred and sixty degree turn. Still shell-shocked by his own behavior, this only made it more surreal. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. “Um, she was attacked, here.”

  “Do you know who attacked her?”

  “Yes and no.”

  Desiree’s head tilted and her eyebrows drew together.

  “It was the serial killer who’s made the papers recently.”

  Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath as the information seeped in. “The Slasher?” His nod confirmed her question. “From what I’ve read, she’s lucky to be alive.”

  “He threatened to finish the job. That’s why you’re here.” He grazed her with his eyes. “But I can’t imagine you doing much in the way of stopping him.” Although sucking him dry could be an option. He nearly laughed aloud at the thought.

  “I’m a black belt in three separate arts—Karate, Tae Kwan Do and Judo—and I’m an expert shot.” She stood and crossed to her pocket book. “When I’m on the job, I carry this.” She reached inside the purse and pulled out a Smith & Wesson nine millimeter, showing it to him. “I also have hand to hand combat training, which I won an award for when I was in the military.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You were in the military?”

  “I had two tours in the army. They paid for my college education and I got to see a great deal of the world.”

  “How’d you hook up with Charlie?”

  “Charlie and I dated on and off for the past five years.” She smiled sweetly. “He occasionally asks me to do an odd job or two.”

  Steve didn’t know what to think. “Are you dating him now?” The smile that surfaced made him shiver. Now he had another thing to worry about on top of Jennifer. What would Charlie do if he found out about their oral adventure?

  Chapter 31

  Charlie smiled at the prospect of having a puppet, a martyr to pin everything on if the ceiling fell down on him. He flipped on the video feed, making sure the disc was set to record the entire scene.

  His smile faded and aggravation slunk under his skin. Steve didn’t take the bait, at least not as fully as he had hoped. He wanted significant leverage over his young lawyer, more so than the general threat of shooting him. This wasn’t going to cut it.

  Steve had hit it on the nail today. He wanted the kid indebted to him up to his eyeballs and getting him hooked on their product was part of the deal. First, the money, then the request for the bodyguard, and now this, this video that should have ended with Steve’s face buried in Desiree’s pussy or better yet, him fucking the daylights out of her.

  His plan to keep Steve in line right up until the moment he snatched Jennifer from under him went straight to hell, compromised by his lawyer’s sensibilities. He chucked the remote across the room. Steve had more resolve than he’d bet on, and Desiree backed off.

  He’d have to have a chat with her about that.

  He stared at the empty kitchen on screen, grinding his teeth together and going over what little discrepancy he’d captured on film. Slowly, an idea surfaced. One worthy of putting a spike between the young couple, and he smiled, his imagination turning the scheme over and over until he could see no fault in it.

  Letting his mind drift further, he imagined Jennifer squealing with delight, writhing beneath him, her green eyes glued to his, silently begging for more, his name flowing off her tongue as much of an elixir as her moans of pleasure.

  He turned the television and DVR off and headed out with his libido in overdrive.

  Chapter 32

  Jennifer stood backstage, clinging to the wall as the vision of another murder assaulted her.

  “Jesus, no, Jesus, Jesus, no,” she kept repeating, her voice getting louder and louder until the director, Raphael, shook her.

  “Jennifer!”

  Her vision blurred and then everything went black.

  In the blackness, she heard the low grumble come from his throat and the vision that materialized was worse than a kick in the gut. She welcomed the blackness when it wrapped around her a second time.

  * * * *

  Steve snatched the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open. He listened to a panicked Raphael. “What happened?” He signaled the waitress and traded a glance with Desiree.

  “She was screaming and her face was pale and she passed out,” Raphael rattled.

  “I’m on my way.” He folded the phone and stood, tossing money on the table. “You coming?”

  Desiree stood and followed him to her car.

  “How fast can you get to the Soho Theater?”

  “On Vandam?”

  “Yes.”

  “Get in. I’ll get us there in ten minutes.”

  He didn’t hesitate and she was true to her word. Steve flew down the alley and pounded on the door. It opened just as she caught up with him.

  Raphael was clearly frazzled. “She’s in the back room. I put her on the couch.”

  “Is she conscious?”

  “She wasn’t when I left her, but she’s breathing. Should I call 911?”

  Steve shook his head. “Let me take a look first.” He headed in the direction Raphael pointed with Desiree close behind. He slid onto his knees next to the couch. A strong pulse met his fingertips when he pressed them to her throat. He exhaled, closing his eyes and the alarm abated. “Jenny?” He ran the back of his knuckles against her cheek. When her eyelids fluttered open, he blinked back the sudden mist that covered his eyes. “Hey.”

  Jennifer’s eyes went wide and she shot into a sitting position, her eyes darting around the room until they landed on Desiree. They cleared and narrowed and her gaze snapped back to his. Her jaw tightened. “I had a vision.”

  He sat back on his haunches under her sharp glare. She knows. “What did you see?” When her eyes rose to Desiree, his heart dropped.

  “He killed again,” she answered and swung her dagger like eyes back to him.

  “What else did you see?” he asked, the dread bleeding into his voice.

  Jennifer tilted her head. “Enough.”

  The ride back to the apartment was tense and silent. Desiree obviously didn’t understand the dynamics between them until he leaned over and said two words. “She’s pregnant.” He glanced in the backseat and away from her glare. The color had returned to her face, but the anger was visible, at least to him.

 
; “So, you’re my body guard?” Jennifer asked from the backseat.

  Desiree nodded and glanced in the rearview mirror. “I understand you were threatened.”

  “You could say that.” She sent a glare in Steve’s direction. “Didn’t you tell her why you hired her?”

  “He did, I just wanted to hear your side of the story.”

  “We talked,” he said.

  “Is that what they call it these days?”

  Steve looked out the window, ignoring the barb. The fear gripping his heart was worse than when Charlie put the muzzle of the gun to his forehead. Without Jennifer, his life would fall apart. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her for the remainder of the ride.

  When Desiree pulled up to the building, she turned to face Jennifer. “I’ll be here tomorrow around seven-thirty. That way I can settle in before Mr. Winchester leaves.”

  Jennifer nodded and slipped out of the car.

  “Thanks,” Steve mumbled, doing the same before following his angry wife into the building. He wasn’t going to deny anything and when he shoved his hand into his pocket, he felt the vial, pausing and considering whether it would take the edge off the pending fight.

  She slid her key in the lock and entered the apartment. Before he could step inside, she slammed the door in his face and flipped the deadbolt.

  He heard the click and knocked on the solid wood. “Let me in, Jenny. I can explain.”

  The hysterical laugh that came through the door made his knees weak. He slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his knees and waiting for her sobs to subside. He dug the vial out, staring at the powdery substance. His gaze traveled between the door and the vial. “Fuck it.” He unscrewed the cap and took a hit before screwing the top back on. He sniffled and rubbed his nose, tilting his head back against the wall as the numbing drip started down his throat.

  “Please open the door,” he said, leaning his forehead against the wood.

  “No!” The answer vibrated close enough for him to gather she was just on the other side.

  “Please Jenny. It was a stupid mistake.”

  “You’ve been making a lot of stupid mistakes, lately.”

  He looked at the half-empty vial of coke in his hands. “Yeah. I know.” He closed his fist around it as the rush hit. “Please open the door.”

  “You’re a jackass.”

  Steve started to laugh and scrambled to his feet as she threw the lock and yanked the door open.

  “What are you laughing at?” Her bloodshot eyes glared at him and she blocked the opening.

  He pushed the door open, manhandling his way into the apartment, where he locked the deadbolt before turning back to her. “Because I am a jackass,” he answered and slammed the vial on the desk in full sight. He stepped back, cocking his head in her direction as the drug pulsed in his veins. “I’m a jackass who hit gold today.”

  Jennifer stepped back as he advanced on her. His apologetic demeanor was replaced by that hungry look again. She looked at the vial on the desk and back at him. Her momentary shock and fear boiled into fury and she swung her fist.

  He blocked the punch with his cast, but he wasn’t fast enough to block her kick. It hit him in the solar plexus, sending him back into the door and knocking the wind out of him. He struggled to get a breath even as she advanced again, her face a mask of fury. He moved quickly, wrapping his arms around her, pinning her arms to her sides. “Easy, Jen.”

  “Easy? You want me to take it easy?” She slammed her heel into his foot and her head into his nose.

  “Jesus Christ!” he yelled as blood shot out of his nose. Blinking back stinging tears, he kept his arms tight, letting the blood run down his chin onto his shirt, and her hair. “I’m not letting go until you calm down.”

  Hot sticky liquid dripped down the back of her neck. “You’re bleeding on me.” She struggled to break loose of his grasp.

  “Yes. Are you going to stop beating the shit out of me?”

  Jennifer struggled in his arms, her scream of frustration filling the apartment. It gave way to sobbing and Steve leaned over, pressing his lips to the back of her blood-splattered head. He sniffled again and released her, wiping the blood off his face with his sleeve as she turned to look at him.

  “How could you?”

  He didn’t have an answer. At least not one she would ever understand. His eyes drifted to the vial on the desk. Before he knew it, she had it in her hand and pitched it with everything she had at the wall above the bed.

  “No!” he yelled as it smashed, sending a puff of white dust raining down on the bed.

  Jennifer stared at him. “How long have you been doing coke?”

  Steve stared at the falling powder. “This is only the second week, but I’ve done it more than once today.”

  “Because you had to?”

  He shook his head. “No, because I wanted to.”

  “Is that what happened here?” Tears flowed down her cheeks and she pointed to the corner of the kitchen.

  Steve glanced at her and nodded. “I was high and I didn’t say no right away.” He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Sitting on the toilet’s lid, he put his head in his hands. Royally fucked up didn’t begin to describe what he had done and he knew it.

  Jennifer opened the door. “I’m calling Jack.”

  “The hell you are!” He shot to his feet.

  “You’re in over your head, Steve!” She stabbed her finger on the numbers.

  “Bullshit!” He ripped the phone out of her hand and killed the connection. “Charlie showed me where the operation is. He showed me the fucking warehouse today. Whatever I’m doing, it’s working!”

  “In the meantime, you’re becoming a junkie and cheating on me.”

  The air blew out of Steve’s sails. “I’m doing my job.” Lame as it was, that’s what came out of his mouth and he immediately regretted it.

  “Getting a blow job in our kitchen constitutes doing your job?”

  This time he didn’t stop her swing, just closed his eyes and let her get her anger out. Her fist connected with his chin, driving him backwards, where he fell onto the toilet seat with a crash. “I’m sorry Jenny. I fucked up.”

  She glared at him. “Royally.”

  He reached for her and she swatted his hand away.

  “Don’t even think about it. It’s going to be a long time before I let you touch me again. A long time. Now get out. I need to clean up.”

  He left her in the bathroom, relief flooding through him at her last statement. It meant she wasn’t walking out on him. He crossed to the kitchen sink and washed his face and neck where the blood had dried to a tacky film. Then he sat down at the computer to report on everything he learned today. He didn’t bother looking up at Jennifer when she came out of the bathroom and snapped the covers off the bed, muttering about coke infested sheets.

  Chapter 33

  A knock at the door woke Steve out of a sound sleep and he glanced at the clock. “Shit!” He shot out of bed, grabbing a pair of sweat pants and slipping them on before he crossed to the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Jennifer. She hadn’t stirred.

  He undid the deadbolt and swung the door open.

  Desiree stood outside the door, dressed in a similar outfit as the evening before, but the jacket was a bit more bulky and she opened it, revealing the gun. Her eyes lowered to the scars on his chest and her eyebrows rose before her gaze returned to his.

  “I need to get ready for work. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “What happened to your chest?”

  “I was attacked by a wild animal a couple of years ago,” he said and filtered through his drawers for underwear. Grabbing a suit out of the closet, he disappeared into the bathroom without another word.

  When he came out, Jennifer was sitting at the table with a cup of juice, her usual sociable self nowhere to be seen, and she glowered at him. He crossed to her and kissed the top of her head. “I love you.” He received a grunt in respo
nse and left without comment.

  The subway ride to the office took twice as long during rush hour and he crossed the street toward the office rumpled from the crowded railcar. His cell buzzed and he flipped it open, stopping outside the entrance. “Starbucks, now.” The line cut and he stared up at the building, pausing before heading toward the coffee shop around the corner. The headlines of the paper on his usual table caught his attention and he closed his eyes and sat down. He never asked her more about the vision.

  “Did you know about this?”

  “I heard about it.”

  “He went ballistic on the victim and there was no semen.”

  Steve snorted, spitting out the sip of coffee he just took. “Wow, just what I wanted to talk about this morning.” He wiped his face with a napkin and shook his head. “Did you get my notes?”

  “Yes. We want to take him down as soon as possible.”

  Steve glanced at the reflection.

  “Jack wants you and Jennifer out of New York when it happens.”

  He turned in the chair. “Did you read the fucking notes?”

  Jerry stood and shuffled away.

  He stared at the headlines of the paper and flipped the page, reading the story, his blood already at the boiling point. If they went in half-cocked, Charlie would blow up the entire building. He couldn’t let them do that.

  Is that really your hesitation?

  The thought crept up on him, causing him to look out at the street.

  Is it, or are you hooked?

  Steve’s jaw tightened and he focused on his reflection. “Hooked on what? That’s the question,” he whispered and folded the paper under his arm. Picking up his coffee, he headed to the office, lost in thought.

  He slid behind his desk, turning on the computer but not really seeing it as he analyzed the mess he’d made. The rap on the doorjamb interrupted his thoughts. “Hey, Charlie.”