She shrugged. “I guess you could call us friends—at first. But then you got yourself knocked up and ruined everything.”
I shook my head. “I’ve heard enough of your deranged ramblings.”
I tried to get past her for a third time. She responded by shoving me in the shoulder. I stumbled but managed to stay upright.
“You’ll leave when I say you can leave.”
I shivered at the sinister undertone to her voice. I’d rather she yelled, shouted, railed, pulled my hair, scratched me with her nails. I could fight her then, but this hushed, calm demeanor was much harder to deal with.
“You’re just a whore, a slut from the streets, a nobody.”
My thighs shook at her spiteful words, but I wasn’t about to let her get away with denigrating my character. If Rochelle thought she had a chance of stripping me bare, of stealing my hard-fought confidence, I was about to disappoint her.
“Still, I took on your family and won.”
Rochelle’s lips clamped into a thin line, and I laughed. “You’re just a replica of Sutton, Rochelle. A bully who gets their kicks out of picking on those they see as inferior.” I widened my stance, letting my arms hang loose by my sides. “You want me? Come get me.”
I readied myself for a slap. It was exactly the kind of thing Rochelle would do. Instead, a glimmer of a smile touched her lips. “Oh, Sienna, this must be killing you. The thought of being forced to allow your precious offspring to spend time with the very man who tried to make sure he never existed.” She bent her head to the side. “Maybe my brother is right after all. Perhaps driving you crazy will be more fun than seeing you dead. You know, the more I think about it, the more I’m coming around to his way of thinking.”
She’d fired an arrow and hit the bullseye. I gulped back a sob and barged her out of my way. I broke into a jog, Rochelle’s wicked cackling following me.
“I can find you anytime, Sienna,” she called out. “There’s no hiding place. Remember that.”
I almost tripped through the entranceway and sped across the lobby to our private elevator. Only once inside did I allow myself to breathe, but as I took a lungful of air, my legs gave way, and I sank down the wall.
The elevator doors glided open. I sat there for a few seconds, wondering if my legs would support me. I’d never been the kind of person who took well to conflict, and yet today, I’d had to face three separate battles: Sutton, Dayton, and now Rochelle.
The doors began to close. I struggled to my feet and stuck my arm through the diminishing gap. They sprang open once more. My thigh muscles quivered with a combination of fear and rapidly dwindling anger. As I walked into the living room, I found Dayton pacing, my note in his hand.
“Where the fuck have you been?” he bit out, his high cheekbones reddened with anger.
I let my purse fall to the floor and, as the stress of the day came crashing down, I burst into tears.
“Jesus, Christa.” He closed the gap between us and cupped my face. “Angel, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What’s happened?”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my head in his chest. “Hold me, please,” I choked out.
Dayton rubbed the palm of his hand over my back. “Always, angel. Always. But please, tell me you’re not hurt.”
I shook my head. I wasn’t, not physically anyway, but for some strange reason, Rochelle’s nasty outburst had affected me far more than Sutton’s attempts at intimidation that afternoon. I’d stood up to him, and to Dayton. So why hadn’t I done the same to Rochelle? I should have slapped her, scored my nails down her too-perfect face, kicked her ass right into the street. Except I wasn’t a violent person—I hated violence of any kind—and Rochelle had once been my friend. That was what hurt the most. I’d lost someone I’d once considered as close as the sister I hadn’t been blessed with.
After a minute or so, I collected myself. I dried my tears, then met Dayton’s worried gaze.
“I bumped into Rochelle,” I said.
His eyes opened wide. “She spoke to you?”
I nodded. “If you can call it that.”
His jaw clenched tight. “What did she say?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.” When he opened his mouth, probably to disagree and tell me that it did matter, I added, “She did say an odd thing, though. That she could find me anytime, and I should remember that.” Sutton’s earlier comment nudged at me. “And today, Sutton told me he was always watching. Do you think they’re following me? Is that why I’m getting these creepy sensations of being spied on all the time?”
Dayton squeezed my arm. “Neither of them will hurt you, I promise.” And then he narrowed his gaze. “Where’s your phone?”
“In my purse, why?”
“Give it to me.”
I bent down, retrieved it from my bag, and handed it to him. Without saying another word, Dayton strode in the direction of his study. I followed. By the time I arrived, he already had my phone hooked up to his computer.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
He shook his head but didn’t answer me. I perched on the end of his desk, waiting as he bashed furiously on his keyboard. A couple of minutes later, he muttered, “Son of a bitch.”
“What? Dayton you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
He lifted his head. “Your phone has been tapped. Not only does this mean Atwood can hear every phone call you make, but it also means he can trace where you are day or night, as long as you have your phone with you, of course.”
My lips parted in shock. “W-what? How?”
He twisted his lips wryly. “Lots of ways, mostly illegal.” He picked up my phone and stared at it. “Do you ever leave this out of your sight?”
“No. I mean, yeah, I guess. Sometimes. It’s hard to remember. Can you get rid of it?”
“Already done. Look, I want to put a trace of my own on here, if you’re in agreement.”
I dampened my lips. “You mean so you’ll always know where I am?”
“No. So I’ll know where your phone is.” He sighed, scraping a hand through his hair. “This isn’t some weird attempt to keep tabs on you, Christa. But this fucker has overstepped the mark, and it’s important we stay one step ahead. I also want to add some software in the background that will alert me if your phone is tampered with, or if anyone tries to install a non-standard application either physically or remotely.”
I nibbled my lip, then nodded. When had my life become so complicated? I felt as if I was in the middle of a bad spy movie. “Whatever you think is best,” I said. “Shouldn’t we call the police? Tell them what you’ve found?”
He shook his head. “Without proof there’s very little they can do, and all that will achieve is pissing him off. He’ll soon find out we’ve discovered his tap when it all goes quiet at his end. I’ll mention it to Francesca, though, just so she’s got the full picture.”
“Okay.”
He cupped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. “I know you’re scared, but I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m annoyed at myself for not expecting this and putting in counter measures earlier.”
“You anticipated he’d do something like this?” I swept a hand over my face. “Jesus.”
“I’m not surprised he’s stooped this low, no. I wouldn’t put anything past that fucker. Tomorrow, I want you to close down every personal email account, because he could also be hacking into those. I’ll get the team at work to set you up with one you can use for personal stuff, but it’ll go through our firewalls, making it far more secure. Web-based email is easy to hack into, if you know what you’re doing.”
God, this was all too much information. Too much to take in and deal with in one hit. Swamped with acute exhaustion, I rose from Dayton’s desk. “I’m going to check on Max, then go to bed.”
Dayton stood to kiss me. “I’ll finish up here and be in shortly. Try not to worry.”
I closed the door to his st
udy. Try not to worry? Impossible.
11
Dayton
I listened carefully until I heard the door to our bedroom click shut. I peered into the hallway just to make sure she wasn’t there. Satisfied the coast was clear, I reentered my study and picked up her phone. Turning it over in my hands, I wondered how Atwood had gained access. It was far from impossible, although you had to know what you were doing. There could be a mole in the camp, although I doubted it. My company carried out detailed checks on every employee. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to get my Head of Cyber Security to investigate.
I emailed him asking him to do just that, as well as instructing him to arrange for a secure personal email address to be set up for Christa. My next call was to Draven.
“Hey, Dayton. What’s up?”
“Found anything worthwhile yet?”
Draven barked out a booming laugh. “Not yet. These things take time, brother. I had one case that took me six months to crack. Hang in there. If there’s shit to find, I’ll find it.”
“I hope so.” I was a man who measured by results, not promises. “That’s not the main reason I’m calling, though.”
“Oh yeah?”
“I need someone who can provide round-the-clock surveillance on two, no, make that three, people. Cole told me that was part of your repertoire. Can you arrange it?”
Draven whistled through his teeth. “That’s gonna cost. For how long?”
“As long as it takes.”
“Maybe I’ll be able to afford that shack in the Bahamas after all.”
I laughed. I seriously liked this guy. “Do this right, and you’ll be able to afford a plantation house.”
“I take it Atwood is one of the targets?”
I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Plus his sister, Rochelle, and Atwood’s dog, Kawalski.”
“The guy you bloodied up?”
“The very same.”
“Any intervention, or straight-up surveillance?”
“Straight-up, unless Christa or Max is involved, and then it has to appear as if it’s a random act of kindness by a stranger. I don’t want your cover blown, unless either of them is in physical danger, which I doubt. Atwood isn’t that stupid.”
“Got it.” He told me his fee.
I didn’t even flinch.
“The courts gave him weekend access to Max,” I shared. “I want extra eyes on whenever Atwood has him.”
“Understood.”
“He’s picking him up this Friday and won’t return him until Sunday. I want hourly reports regarding Max’s welfare.”
“You want my team to start Friday?”
“No,” I replied. “I want them to start now.”
Christa held it together when Atwood came for Max that Friday. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed when Max happily went with him, his little backpack hoisted on his shoulders, and his favorite toy dangling from one hand. I didn’t want Max to suffer, but at the same time, jealousy carved a fucking great hole in my stomach at the thought of Max getting close to that bastard. For all intents and purposes, he was my kid. I loved him in a way Atwood wasn’t capable of.
Once the elevator doors closed, Christa walked stiffly past me and back into the penthouse. “Drink?” she asked, heading for the fridge. She held a bottle of wine in the air. “Because I need one.”
“Sure.” I flopped onto the couch and pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger.
She came over with our drinks and sat beside me. “What if he doesn’t take care of him?” she asked. “I mean, I know my fears are probably unfounded. Sutton’s a smart guy, and he’d know that if any harm comes to Max, his leverage is over, but still, I can’t help worrying. He’s my baby.”
I’d kept hiring Draven from Christa so far, with good intentions. I hadn’t wanted to put the fear of God into her that I felt it necessary to have Atwood, his sister, and his sidekick followed twenty-four seven. But the more I thought about it, the more peace it brought me. We had someone on our side, watching over Max when we couldn’t. Draven had even assured me that they had eyes and ears inside the hotel room Atwood was renting while he searched for a more permanent residence. I didn’t know how Draven had managed that—and I didn’t want to know—but regardless, it made me feel a whole lot better.
I rested an arm around her shoulder. “Max will be fine. I’ve got someone watching him.”
She straightened, her eyes opened wide. “What do you mean, someone watching him?”
I grazed a hand over my chin, uncertain how she’d take this. “A cop I know put me in touch with a guy who runs an investigative and private security firm.” I shrugged. “I hired him and his team to follow Atwood, his sister, and Kawalski. On the days Atwood has Max, there’s extra security, and they’re going to send regular reports, so we know what’s happening.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes darting left and right. And then she straddled my legs and hugged me so tight I couldn’t breathe. “Oh God, Dayton. Thank you. Thank you. You don’t know how worried I’ve been.” She kissed me hard on the lips, then straightened. “He’s good, this guy?”
“Apparently, he’s the best.” I grinned. “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I don’t think his methods are entirely legal. He told me he’s got eyes and ears inside the hotel room Atwood is staying in.”
“I don’t care if it’s not legal,” she said firmly. “Sutton won’t play by the rules, so we can’t either. We need to do everything we can to stay one step ahead.”
My thoughts entirely.
I tucked her hair behind her ears. “I was thinking of taking you somewhere tomorrow and staying overnight. We’ll be back in plenty of time for Max coming home on Sunday. It’ll do us good to get away for a little while. Hanging around this place all weekend won’t be fun for either of us.”
She curled her lips to the side, considering. “What if we need to hurry back?”
I’d expected this argument and I’d prepared for it. “We can be home in less than two hours.”
“Oh, Dayton, that’s too far. What if Max needs me?”
I cupped her cheek. “Angel, we’ve got eyes on him, twenty-four seven. Draven’s team knows to move in immediately if they think that Max is in any danger. Look, you know as well as I do that Atwood won’t hurt him. We know what Atwood’s agenda is. Max is simply the vehicle to exact his revenge, his weapon of choice, if you will.”
She winced, tugging on her bottom lip as she mulled over my argument, her gaze somewhere over my left shoulder. And then she nodded.
“Okay. I guess it will be good to get away. I can’t bear the thought of being here without Max.” Her voice broke, and her eyes filled with tears. She dashed at them with the back of her hand. “Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”
I drew my knuckles down her damp cheek. “You don’t have to pretend to me that this isn’t killing you. It’s killing me, too.”
She fisted her hands in my shirt and tugged me forward, then pressed her lips to mine. “I love you so goddamn much, Dayton Somers. I couldn’t do this alone.”
“Yes, you could,” I said. “But I’m glad you don’t have to.”
“God, me, too.” She grinned. “So where are you taking me for our dirty weekend away?”
I tapped the side of my nose. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
12
Christa
I should have expected a man as rich as Dayton to have his own plane but, truth be told, it hadn’t occurred to me, and because he’d driven on the trips we’d taken to the Cape and up to the Catskills, there hadn’t been a need for me to know.
Well, I knew now, but still, the sheer luxury of the interior blew me away. Soft, gray leather seating, thick, carpeted flooring, light-ash wood paneling. There was even a three-seater couch along one side, and opposite, a large flat-panel TV. Holy crap.
“Wow,” I said, because it was the only word that came to mind. I puffed up my che
eks, blowing the air out slowly. “This is…” I blinked. “Wow.”
Dayton chuckled. “I’d have brought you onboard before, but the right time never arose, until now.” He touched my elbow, guiding me to one of the plush high-backed chairs, then sat opposite. “Buckle up. We’ll be taking off in a few minutes.”
Doubt at leaving Max behind nudged me once more. The argument Dayton had used on me last night was a solid one, but that didn’t stop me worrying.
“What if Draven or his team need to contact us while we’re in the air?”
Dayton reached across the table separating us and knitted our fingers together. “We have WiFi onboard. Any problems, and I’ll have the plane turned around immediately. Angel, try to relax. I know it’s hard, but you need this break. Trust me, please.”
His earnest expression won me over. Dayton had done everything within his power to secure Max’s safety and my peace of mind. The only thing that would make things any better was tomorrow evening when Max was returned to me. In the meantime, Dayton was doing his very best to distract me, and I loved him for it.
“You’re very persuasive.”
He chuckled. “It’s part of my charm.”
The plane sped down the runway, easing smoothly into the air. The cloudless sky made our ascent turbulence free, and twenty minutes later, we leveled off. I’d only taken one flight in my life before—the one that had brought me to New York from Seattle—but the experiences were incomparable. Flying coach was about as much fun as having your teeth drilled, but this… God, I didn’t want it to end.
When the plane touched down, I peered out of the window, but there weren’t any clues as to where we’d landed. Dayton had been true to his word; the flight had taken us about ninety minutes door-to-door.
“Are you going to tell me where we are yet?”
“Canada,” he replied.
“Canada!” I squeaked.
Dayton unbuckled his belt and stood. He reached into his inside pocket and pulled out my passport—the one he’d insisted I get a few weeks ago ‘just in case.’
Avenging Christa: A Billionaire Romance (Irresistibly Mine Book 2) Page 8
