Nash Security Solutions

by Lola Silverman

  Chapter Thirteen

  Analise stomped through the back door of Ava’s South End Victorian home and glared at Nash. The man was sitting at the round kitchen table in the cozy breakfast nook with Ava. They seemed very cozy. Good for freaking them! Analise did not want to deal with this crap right now. She wanted to be gone. As in she wanted to be transferred to another city.

  “Analise,” Nash said with a smile. “Ava and I were just talking about you.”

  “Oh really?” Analise said with barely leashed anger. “Were you talking about how I’m sick and fucking tired of this city and this job and how I want to be transferred to another case somewhere else?”

  Nash looked taken aback. The relaxed lines of his face hardened, and Analise could tell that her vehemence had come as a surprise. No doubt the content of her words was a bit of a shock as well.

  Finally, it was Ava who spoke. “Is there something that’s happened to make you feel so strongly about leaving us?”

  Us? There was no us. There was Nash Security Solutions and there was Ava and her crazy-ass family of lunatics. The two things were independent of each other. They weren’t a unit. Or at least they had better not be a unit. Analise wasn’t even sure what she would do if they were leaning in that direction. Quit? Could she go somewhere else and get another job? Not like this one. There weren’t any jobs like this one for marines who had washed out of the service.

  That thought burned her even more fiercely. She pressed her fingers to her temples. “I want nothing to do with Ralston anymore. I don’t even think you guys can trust him. He’s making deals with Stedman behind your back. He’s got his own investigation going, and he’s making shit decisions about the people he hangs out with.”

  That last bit sounded infantile, but she didn’t care. It still pissed her off that Ralston had apologized—apologized—for Analise’s behavior to Chelsea. He had opened her up to censure. He hadn’t had her back at all. And he was pandering to his father for no reason that she could see. The man would stab him in the back at the first opportunity. If Ralston was determined to rush into that fate, there was nothing Analise could do about it.

  Ava stood up. “What people?”

  “Huh?” Analise’s brain was so far past that statement that she had to rewind to figure out what Ava was on about. “The people he’s hanging out with? Is that what you want to know?”

  “Yes.” Ava sounded impatient. “My son doesn’t hang out with the wrong people unless there’s a purpose.”

  “Really?” Analise cocked her head to one side and folded her arms over her chest. “A few days ago, he’s glad when I throw Chelsea Ettinger out of his house. Now he’s making apologies for the bad treatment she received from his unprofessional bodyguard and asking her to some fundraiser this weekend.”

  “The fundraiser?” Ava turned to stare at Nash. “He can’t possibly be considering that as a place to shame his father publicly!”

  “Shame his father?” Analise looked from Ava to Nash. “What are you two talking about?”

  Nash sighed. “I thought you didn’t want to be involved.”

  “I want to kick Ralston in the balls for throwing me under the bus,” Analise snapped. “But I’d like to understand why I have tire tracks all over me at the moment, if you know what I mean.”

  “Right,” Ava said with a serious nod. “We think that Ralston is gearing up to accuse his father of illegal activities and behaviors and actions unbecoming of a member of his social circle in a public place.”

  “Why?” Analise demanded. She threw up her hands and paced a small circle in the kitchen. There was so much food on the island. Why? Were they entertaining together now? “What’s with the food?” Analise asked suddenly.

  “It’s for you and your coworkers.” Ava looked surprised. “Surely you like to eat as much as Carson and Wrath do. Quinten is very fond of my turnovers.”

  “What are you? June Cleaver?” Analise shot Ava a dirty look.

  Why did the stupid woman have to be so put together all of the time? It was really annoying. She was so perfect, and Analise felt like such a mess. All. Of. The. Time. Of course, Analise’s family had never been shy about her shortcomings as a woman. That was the whole reason she hadn’t reupped with the marines. She hadn’t gone career because she was sick and tired of her parents nagging her about not having a family and settling down. After her father had passed away, her mother had been even more adamant that Analise was leaving her to die all alone without grandchildren. Analise wasn’t even sure she wanted kids.

  Ava touched Analise’s shoulder. The contact was so surprising that Analise jumped. She pulled away from the touch. It was uncomfortable. Ava sighed. “I’m very sorry that my son made you feel used.”

  “Who said that?” Analise felt the urge to flee. This was not going anywhere good. “I didn’t say that!”

  “I can read between the lines,” Ava said drily. “You essentially said that Ralston chose Chelsea over you. That’s very painful and I’m sorry.”

  Analise shrugged it off. “Ralston’s on his own. I’m going back to the truck. I’ll get my stuff and then I’m going home.”

  Nash cleared his throat. “You haven’t been released from duty, marine.”

  “That’s the great thing about being a civilian, sir,” she shot back. “I can just quit.”

  *

  Ralston took deep breaths to calm himself as he attempted to keep it together in his father’s office. Thank God Chelsea had left for some Swedish wrap appointment or some other ridiculous feminine activity that usually cost a shitload of money and made no sense. He was now officially dating Chelsea. It boggled the mind. Did Ralston really believe that he could pull off this charade? He had already screwed things up with Analise on an epic scale. There was a portion of his brain that had already decided he could not stop now.

  The idea of pretending to be on his father’s side had been in the back of his mind for the last several days. They could get information on his father in plenty of ways, but there was no definitive process that could put Stedman Hyde-Pierson behind bars for what he had done. There was no way to make him pay unless they managed to get someone on the inside and learn how the operation worked from the inside. And the only person who had any hope of accomplishing that was Ralston. Stedman would make quite a few allowances to get his heir on what he saw as the straight and narrow.

  “So.” Stedman peered at Ralston with his laser-like blue eyes. The gaze was so intense that Ralston had to forcefully suppress the urge to squirm. He could not fail now. Then Stedman smiled. “Your little bodyguard seemed rather upset.”

  Ralston gave a careless shrug. He wandered toward the expensive leather couch on one side of his father’s office. Sitting in one corner, he purposefully lounged back against the seat and made himself extremely comfortable.

  “You seem unconcerned.” Stedman perched on the edge of his desk and gazed at Ralston as though he could not quite decide what to believe. “You’ve shown a marked preference for that woman over the last several days. Care to explain this sudden change of heart?”

  “Heart has nothing to do with it,” Ralston said sharply. “Analise is extremely satisfying in bed.” The words burned his tongue. He was making light of something that he didn’t feel light about at all. He was an ass for doing this, and it would take him eons to gain Analise’s understanding and forgiveness. He cleared his throat and forced the next sentence past his lips. “Analise isn’t part of our world. She’s quite fun as a bedmate but completely unsuitable in any other capacity. And since allowing Ava and Nash to assign me a bodyguard was only part of my ruse to get some necessary information from them, Analise has served her purpose.”

  “Get information,” Stedman scoffed. “Twenty minutes ago, before Chelsea arrived, you were ranting and raving about my illegal practices and how you were going to take me down.”

  “I will,” Ralston said coolly. “Isn’t that the nature of every father-son relationship? I don’t approv
e of your methods. I think you’re sloppy and you leave far too many loose ends. I could do better. That is all I’m saying.”

  Stedman raised his eyebrows and got up from his seat. He crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t look at all perturbed by Ralston’s statement. “So this was all a ruse to find out what?”

  “That you’re far too sloppy for your own good,” Ralston repeated. “Like inviting Chelsea up here. What was that? What if she had heard us talking business? You don’t think that little twit would run back to Daddy and tattle whatever she heard?”

  “I’m not afraid of Ettinger,” Stedman said dismissively.

  “No?” Ralston stood up. He straightened his suit jacket and glanced at his diamond-studded Bulova watch. “Perhaps you should be. Ettinger is on the board of several opposing banks. He has federal agents in his pockets, and he is sniffing around Hyde-Pierson Financial trying to find a way to get his foot in the door.”

  Stedman’s expression didn’t change, but Ralston saw his father’s shoulders tense up.

  “And you”—Ralston pointed an accusing finger at his father—“are up here scheming and stealing from rivals and friends alike while trying to hire a professional security firm because of some bogus threats against your life. Do you not think everyone knows you made that shit up? It was poorly planned and even more poorly executed.”

  “Oh, please!” Stedman finally seemed to snap. His eyes flashed fire, and he took a few steps to glare right into Ralston’s face. “Please tell me how I screwed up. Everything has gone according to plan for the most part. I see no screw-ups.”

  “No?” Ralston hoped he had this right. If he didn’t, he was going to do irreparable damage to his cause. “Your idiotic plan to have your security personnel smite the Bratva so that you could waltz in and take over uncontested failed. Or hadn’t you noticed? You do realize that Anton told Nash and practically everyone else present some very interesting things about your association with him and with Sokolov.”

  A strange smile played at the corner of Stedman’s mouth. “Is that right? Do tell. What did good old Anton have to say?”

  “That you were the one attempting to have your family members killed because the Bratva threat made for a rather convenient reason to bump off people that were in possession of, or in the way of, what you wanted.” Ralston forced his expression into one of almost polite boredom. It was important that his father not believe he was at all invested in the fate of his mother, sister, cousin, or aunt.

  “And you believed some two-bit Russian thug?” Stedman blustered.

  Ralston exhaled a snort. “I believe that you would go into business with the mafia if it were lucrative enough. Croft confirmed that. I believe that you would seize any opportunity to be rid of people you didn’t particularly care about but who maintained ownerships of—for various reasons—things that you felt entitled to.” Ralston paused for dramatic effect. “Such as pieces of your company stock.”

  “Impudent pup,” Stedman muttered. But he was smiling. Ralston had managed to convince him that they had a mutual goal, at least for the moment.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Analise shoved her stuff into her bag. She cursed the fact that she still had things back at Ralston’s place. Her rucksack was there with her clothes. She didn’t own enough things to possibly consider leaving it behind no matter how badly she wanted to avoid the place.

  The surveillance truck was blessedly empty. She could not have endured being grilled by Wrath or Carson about her intentions. They were friends—sort of, but she had never felt comfortable enough with either of them to consider them confidantes.

  The squeak of the door behind her caused Analise to whirl around and take up a defensive position. When she saw that it was Ava, she didn’t drop her hands. As far as she was concerned, it was highly possible that she would need to fight her way out. She kept one hand up and groped for her bag with the other. She slung the carry strap over her shoulder and prepared for—well, she could not have said what would happen.

  “What do you want?” Analise growled. She shoved a piece of tangled hair behind her ear. Everything was just such a mess. She was a mess. It was too much. Didn’t the woman get that?

  Ava held up her hands as though she were approaching a wild animal. “I wanted to say again that I’m sorry for what my son did, but I think you’re misunderstanding his reasons.” Ava pressed her lips together for a brief moment. “At least I hope you’re misunderstanding them.”

  “Of course you would!” Analise fumed. “He’s your son! You want to believe the best about him. I’m glad of that. I really am, because his father is a shit. But I cannot imagine what purpose there would be for Ralston kissing up to Daddy Dearest. He claims to hate the man one second and then changes his tune the next? Why? And why add Chelsea into the bargain?” Analise could not believe she was getting into it with Ava about her son’s motives. This conversation was ridiculous. “I’m sorry, but I think you might be wrong about him. I’m starting to think that he really wants Daddy’s approval. And let me tell you from experience that winning that could cost someone their soul.”

  “What happened to you?” Ava asked suddenly. She took a step back and put her hands on her hips. “You are so incredibly bitter about families. You let some things slip when we were talking at Frankie’s, but I can’t figure you out.”

  “I was a marine,” Analise said defensively. “That wasn’t what my parents wanted. I left that horrible fate of marriage to the preacher’s boy behind, but I could never shake their expectations. Until he died, my father maintained that I was acting unnatural. He did not believe that women belonged in the military unless they were nurses.”

  “So, a sexist, then,” Ava guessed.

  “In a manner of speaking, I guess he was,” Analise admitted. “But my mother is still alive and still nagging me about popping out some grandkids. She never thinks about how a woman who is never in the same city for two months at a stretch could possibly raise a child, but she’s never really cared about reality and logistics before, so why now?”

  “You know,” Ava began slowly. “There’s no reason an intelligent, independent woman like you couldn’t have both.”

  “I don’t want both,” Analise snarled. “I want to be left alone.”

  “I am Ralston’s mother,” Ava said quietly. She folded her hands in front of her and looked contrite. “I will admit that I’m guilty of wanting to believe the best about my son. But I cannot imagine that he would ever make a promise and then break faith with you unless he had a very good, very reasonable course of action that he was following. Perhaps he simply did not have time to bring you up to speed.”

  Analise pushed past Ava and headed for the door of the surveillance truck. “He told me to wait in the lobby while he went upstairs. He claimed he couldn’t get me through security. I know that’s bullshit. I knew it then too. And it went against the parameters of my job and my good sense to let him go up there and talk with Stedman Hyde-Pierson alone. So up he went, and up I went too. Because I was certainly not going to just leave him to the wolves. When I got upstairs, I found out that he had already made a deal with the devil. You tell me how he didn’t have a chance to explain himself. I’d like to hear it.”

  With that, Analise stomped her way out of the truck and down the steps. It felt better being outside. Somehow the free air made her feel as though she could think more clearly. Yes. This was the right decision to make. She just didn’t know where to go from there.

  “I wish you wouldn’t give up on him,” Ava called out from the doorway of the truck. “Everyone always seems to give up on Ralston. It’s why he has so little trust.”

  “Maybe you should consider what he does to make himself so damn untrustworthy,” Analise pointed out. “Perhaps it’s your son doing the damage to his personal relationships and you’re too blinded by that motherly love thing to realize he’s just one more rich asshole looking for a way to get richer.”

  *


  Ralston was wandering aimlessly around the top floor of his building where his servers were located. His mind kept going over and over little things in order to stave off the big things he really wasn’t ready to deal with yet.

  For example, it was completely ridiculous to put his servers and other computer equipment on the top floor of his building. The climate control costs for such a decision had been astronomical because it was so difficult to keep the temperature reasonable enough to run computer equipment efficiently. The basement would have been far more practical, but he couldn’t really justify storing his cars on the top floor, and he liked to work with plenty of light.

  He laced his fingers together and put his hands on top of his head. His mind wandered away from cooling issues and fixated briefly—for about the millionth time—on Analise. He kept waiting for her to return. He needed to explain what had happened. It was vital that he have that opportunity. Her things were still here. Surely she would come back to get them. Right?

  A sudden knock on the door downstairs had Ralston bounding down the steps so quickly that he nearly crashed at the bottom. His shoulder rammed up against the wall as he scrambled to unlock the deadbolts and key in the disarm code for the security system. If anyone could have seen him at that moment, they would have never believed him to be the same cool, unaffected man that drifted through Boston’s social scene while showing almost no outward interest at all.

  Ralston flung open the door. “Analise?”

  “Not quite.” Ava marched into the house and slammed the door shut behind her. “You and I need to talk.”

  Ralston had to marshal his thought processes long enough to try and decide if a discussion with Ava would work in his favor with this latest charade he had going with Stedman, or if it would blow the whole thing. It was really difficult to say at the moment. His position with Stedman was still tenuous at the moment. Ralston had yet to prove himself or his motives.