by Lisa Bilbrey
Thomas nodded. “She’s thinner than she was then, but it was her. She said . . . she said there was a phone call for me from Georgia, that it was the hospital and an emergency. My cell had been acting up for a couple weeks, so I figured Leigh or Ty had called the airport, looking for me. I thought they’d been hurt, or maybe something with her dad.
“I didn’t realize that she was lying until we got to the office and there was nobody else there. Something just felt off, you know? I turned to leave, but she shoved a needle in my neck, and I passed out,” he murmured. “When I came to, I was in that room, tied to the bed. She was sitting on the floor, staring at me with this crazy look in her eyes. She didn’t say anything for the longest time, just stared. I begged her to let me go, offered her money, cried like a little bitch, but she just sat there. Sat there until he showed up.”
“He?” Elle asked. “She has a partner?”
Thomas’s bobbed his head up and down. “He was in charge. Told her what to do. Called her stupid and lazy. He made her do things to me. Horribly mean and painful things.”
“I’m sorry,” she whimpered, covering her mouth with her hand. “I didn’t know she was free. If I had . . . but I didn’t know.”
“They talked about you,” he said, looking her in the eye. “About what they are going to do to you when they get you.”
“Who is he?” Elle asked.
“I don’t know,” Thomas murmured, bringing his hand up to the back of his neck. “She never said his name, always called him ‘honey.’ I’d never seen him before, but, Elle, he knew you. Knew a lot about you. He scared me more than her.”
“Did they say why they are after me?” Elle asked.
Once more, Thomas shook his head. “They spent most of their time hurting me. I mean, I knew Trixie was crazy, but . . .” Thomas scooted to the edge of his seat. “You need to leave San Francisco, Elle. You need to leave now.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about getting the hell out of this place before they find you and kill you,” he said, the urgency in his plea had her shaking. “Come to Georgia with us. We can start fresh without worrying about . . . about anyone coming after us. Just . . . come with me, Elle. Please!”
Elle bit her lip as she shook her head. “I can’t, Thomas. My entire life is here. My family, my job.”
“There are other jobs, and, hell, bring the family, too. We’ll build a fucking commune out in the boonies and live off the grid. Just please, don’t stay here. You won’t survive if you do.”
“Give me a month,” she said. “We can’t just yank the girls out of school and take off without a word. People will notice and the last thing I need is more publicity.”
Thomas opened his mouth to argue, but Elle cut him off.
“I have three hundred employees that are counting on me, Thomas. They have families, too. If I just disappear, what’s going to happen to them?”
“And if they come for you within the next month?” Thomas challenged. “They will kill you, Elle. They talked about how they’d do it. Drowning you in the bathtub, stabbing you over and over, setting your body on fire while you’re still alive. They want you to suffer, and trust me, they will make you beg for death.”
“Stop,” Elle gritted. “You think I don’t know how dangerous Trixie Maxwell is? Trust me, I do. I have the scars and permanent limp that proves it.”
“I sorry. I know you do. I just . . .” Thomas trailed off and shifted his attention to where Leigh and Tyson sat with Callum, Derek, and Sadie. “I don’t know how to let them love me again, Elle. I can’t sleep because every time I close my eyes, I feel them hurting me. And every sound has me halfway out the door. I thought I was going to die and never see them again. How do I let them love me again?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted, drawing his attention back to her. “You just do. I could lie and tell you it gets easier, but that’s not true. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t find myself reminding myself that I’m alive, that Trixie didn’t kill me. And I was doing okay until you were taken and she and — whoever this guy helping her is — started playing their little game.”
Elle dragged her hand through her hair, brushing it back out of her face. “I don’t know why Trixie hates me, or why this guy is helping her destroy me, Thomas. Or why they took you. I’m just . . . I’m just glad they didn’t, you know, kill you.”
“That makes two of us,” he murmured, checking his watch. “I’d better go. We’re supposed to be flying back to Georgia in a few hours.”
Thomas stood and reached for Elle. She scrambled to her feet, letting him pull her in for a hug. The feel of his arms around her felt nice, yet guilt filled her. He’d been hurt because of her. Tortured because of her. She was too blame for everything that had happened to Thomas.
“Promise me that you’ll be safe, Elle. Don’t go anywhere alone, like creepy motels in the middle of nowhere.”
“I promise,” she whispered.
“One month. You be in Atlanta in one month, or I’m coming back and dragging you away. Understand?”
Tears filled her eyes as she nodded against his chest. “I’m sorry they hurt you, Thomas.”
“Me, too.” Thomas kissed the top of her head before releasing his hold on her. “One month.”
Without another word, Thomas walked around her and out of the coffee shop. Leigh and Tyson looked at Elle before they followed. Her heart ached at the level of distrust that came off them, but she understood their reasons. Trixie Maxwell and her unknown partner had used Thomas to torment Elle. He had been a pawn in their game. They’d won that set, but the problem was, she didn’t know how their little match was going to end.
Thirteen
Elle’s head was throbbing as she picked up her empty coffee cup and looked longingly at the door. Was a refill worth the stares she’d get as she made the short walk from her office to the break room and back? She wasn’t sure, and once again, she regretted her decision not to have her own coffee pot in her office. Sure would have made this decision much easier.
“Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath and stood up, the cup still in one hand, while her other grabbed the top of her cane. She would have to endure the gawking; she needed the caffeine if she wanted to get through the pile of reports on her desk. She had too much to do, and not nearly enough workday left.
As expected, the moment she stepped out of her office, heads turned in her direction. She’d had very little contact with her employees in the month since her stalkers had violated her privacy and shared her intimate photographs with everyone.
Damn vultures, the lot of them, she thought, but didn’t say anything as she walked down to the break room. There wasn’t any point, not when she needed to save face anyway she could.
Samuel was seated at the table inside the room when she entered. On the table in front of him was a greasy cheeseburger and a basket of fries.
“Does your wife know you’re eating that?” Elle asked, setting her cup on the counter before reaching for the half-full pot.
“What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her,” he said. “Would a fry buy your silence?”
Elle fixed her coffee before taking the seat across from him. She grabbed a couple of fries and popped them into her mouth. It had been months since she’d had an order of nice salty fries.
“Not bad. These from that place on the corner?”
Samuel nodded around his burger.
“They have the best fries in the city,” Elle murmured, stealing another. “Okay, if you’ll let me have all of these, I won’t tell Lydia. That’s the price for my silence.”
Samuel looked horrified at the thought of losing his precious fries, but nodded. “Fine. Be that way. Take the food right out of my mouth, why don’t you?”
Elle laughed. “Ew, that’s nasty.”
“Um, Elle,” Greta said, causing her to turn her attention to the doorway of the break room. The woman looked worried and stressed, whic
h seemed to add years to her already climbing age. Elle worried about Greta. She loved the company as much as Elle, and watching it fall apart had been difficult for her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the Murphy’s are waiting for you in the conference room.”
“Did I have an appointment with them?” Elle asked, mentally going over her schedule for the day. She’d gotten to where she took fewer appointments since the photographs had been shared. Easier that way, or so she told herself.
“No, no, they just stopped by and asked to speak to you. I told them that Callum wasn’t here, but they said they wanted to see you, not him,” Greta said, nervously. “I can send them away, if you want.”
“Um,” Elle said, shaking her head and standing up. “No, that’s okay. Tell them I’ll be a few minutes.”
Greta nodded and turned away, leaving Elle and Samuel alone.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Samuel offered, causing Elle to frown and look down at him. “I don’t mind.”
“No, thanks.” She gripped her cane and took a step backward. “Consider my silence a freebie, okay?”
“Yeah, all right.”
Elle felt like she was walking the Green Mile as she trudged slowly to her office. She grabbed a notepad and pen, unsure if she’d even need them, but wanting to be prepared either way. Then, she walked down the hallway, feeling the eyes of her employees following, until she found herself standing outside of the thick, wooden door to the conference room. Her heart raced as she gripped the handle and gave it a tug downward, causing the door to open. Mark, Paul, and Janie Murphy shifted their attention onto her.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” Elle said, struggling to keep her voice calm and even. “Have you been offered some tea or coffee?”
“Yes, and we’ve declined,” Janie said with a smile. “But thank you.”
Elle exhaled a soft breath as she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. The Murphy’s watched her as she walked around the table and settled into her usual chair.
“What can I do for you today?” Elle asked, laying her notepad and pen on the table.
“Um, well, this isn’t easy for us to say,” Mark started, leaning forward and placing his elbows on the table. “When our parents immigrated to America, they believed that hard work and discipline is what led to being successful. They rarely took a day off, worked most holidays, yet still found time to help us with our homework, took us to the park, just let us be kids. They took pride in their families, in being respected.”
“They sound like amazing parents,” Elle said, quietly.
“They were,” Paul agreed. “One of their passions was mentoring the children that lived in our neighborhood. They always said there’d never be a child in need as long as they had a dollar to give.”
“With that same passion, we’ve come to you to ask your help in keeping their legacy alive,” Janie added.
“What exactly are you wanting me to do?” Elle asked, picking up her pen and tapping the tip onto her notepad.
“We’d like your help in designing a center for kids to go to after school, on weekends, whenever they need someone to talk to,” Mark explained with a smile. “When we approached Callum with the idea, he suggested that you’d be a better fit for the project than him. Said you had a way of making a building more than just walls, floors, and a ceiling.”
“He did?” Elle felt her cheeks warm when all three of them nodded. “Hmm, okay. So what exactly do you want?”
For the next hour, Mark, Paul, and Janie laid out exactly what they were looking for. They wanted a large center that was warm and welcoming. A safe haven for at-risk kids. In addition to a large basketball court, they wanted a library for kids who felt more at home around books than in the midst of a sport. They also planned on having arts and crafts, snacks for kids, and hoped to have tutors available for kids who needed help with their school work.
As Elle thanked them for the project and walked back to her office, she felt a small glimmer of hope. It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in too long. And when she opened the door to her office, the feeling doubled because sitting on her desk was an order of salty fries.
—FA—
Elle left work early. Well, not early, but she didn’t stay late for a change. Promptly at five o’clock, she packed up her briefcase and walked out of her office, down the hall to Derek and Sadie’s office.
The door to their office was already opened and Derek was seated behind his desk, his feet propped up and his hands folded behind his head. When he saw Elle, he started to smile, but she put her finger to his lips, silently telling him not to draw attention to her.
Nate Li was crutched over his own desk, his tablet propped up and a serious look on his face. Elle hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him much over the last few months. She’d hired him after Flora was born and Callum declared that he wanted to be a stay-at-home-dad. She had interviewed half a dozen candidates, but Nate had been the only one to fit into their company. And boy had he fit. He’d been her shining star from day one, yet she hadn’t given him the props he deserved.
“Hey,” Elle said, startling Nate. She laughed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he grumbled, dropping his hand from his chest and swerving his chair toward the doorway.
Derek was roaring with laughter. “Dude, the look on your face!”
“Shut up, jerk face,” Nate mumbled, his normally tan cheeks darkening.
“Oh, good come back,” Derek snickered as he dropped his feet from the edge of the desk and stood up.
“Whatever,” Nate groused.
“Boys, boys, play nice,” Elle chided them before turning her full attention to Nate. “What are you working on?”
“Oh, um, just a little something for me and Zeke,” he mumbled. “Nothing important.”
“Want to tell me about it?” she pushed.
“Zeke and I . . . Well, we’re talking about getting married. And, um, well, we’d like to have a family one day, so I’ve been tinkering with a . . . with a house for us. You know, for someday.”
Elle nodded. “Can I see it?”
“I wouldn’t want to bore you.”
“Please?” she asked, taking a step into the room.
“Okay.” Nate sighed as he stood and picked up the tablet. He took the few steps toward her and held it out to her. “But it’s nowhere close to being ready.”
“Duly noted,” she chuckled.
Derek had relieved her of her briefcase so she could hold onto the tablet without falling. As usual, Nate’s work, as amazing. The house was modern, yet functional. Lots of space and potential for growth.
“Wow,” she whispered. “These are pretty incredible.”
“No, they’re not. They’re messy and unorganized. I can’t decide if I should add an office to the upstairs, or maybe go with a basement office. Or even just scrap the office and incorporate it into the living room. And I don’t like the angle of the kitchen. I want to catch the early morning light, but I don’t want it to feel sequestered from the rest of the house.”
“Well, you could just remove this wall here,” Elle said, gesturing to the wall separating the kitchen from the living room. “Or if you don’t want to remove it, how about adding a large counter with chairs on the far side. That would give you both function and really utilize your space better.”
“That’s a good idea,” he groused. “I should have thought of that.”
Elle held the tablet back to him. “Whenever you and Zeke are serious about getting this going, come to me. We’ll build it at cost for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” he mumbled.
“I know I don’t, but we take care of our own here.”
Nate opened his mouth to argue, but Derek laughed and said, “Dude, don’t bother. Once she’s made up her mind, there’s no changing it. Accept her offer because if you don’t, she’ll just do it anyway.”
Nate smiled sheepishly. “Okay, okay, thank you. I’ll keep that
in mind.”
“You’re a great architect, Nate, and an even better man. Zeke’s a lucky guy.”
“Nah, I’m the lucky one. Have a good night, Elle.”
“I’ll do my best. Goodnight, Nate.”
“Night.”
A few minutes later, Derek and Elle were seated comfortably in his truck and on their way home. Sadie had left early so that she and Callum could pick up the girls from school and take them to get new shoes. Sadie didn’t trust anyone else when it came to their footwear, not even Callum who had spent the last six years raising their daughters.
“You know,” Derek said, draping his hand on the top of the wheel and laying his other hand on Elle’s thigh. “They won’t be home for hours. You know how Sadie gets when shopping is involved.”
Elle laughed. “Why do you think I don’t go with her anymore? It’s exhausting.”
“Touché, Beautiful, but it gives me an idea.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Well, it’s been a while since you and I were able to have an evening to ourselves. Think we’d better make the best of it, don’t you?”
Elle pressed her lips together and raised an eyebrow. “Guess that depends.”
“On?”
“On how fast you can drive us home, lover,” Elle cooed, shifting in her seat so that she was facing him. “Let’s hope you get there before I finish unbuttoning my blouse.”
“Holy fuck,” he muttered, his hand moving from her thigh to between his legs as he rubbed the outline of his hardening cock.
“No, no, lover,” Elle tittered. “Hand off the goods, or I won’t keep touching myself.”
Derek growled, but pulled his hand from his crotch and up to the steering wheel. “You’d better get that fucking shirt off.”
“Then you had best hurry your sexy ass home.” Elle teased him by undoing one of the buttons.
“Holy fuck,” Derek muttered again and quickly wove in and out of traffic.
In record time, he pulled his truck to a stop outside of their house. Elle had all but one button undone, her beasts heaving beneath the white, lacy bra she’d put on that morning. Derek damn-near leapt out from behind the wheel and ran around to the passenger side of the truck, yanking the door open with so much force, Elle expected it to fly off the hinges.
