by Linzi Baxter
I could see Alex in his office across the hall. He was pacing back and forth, looking out the window. Whenever there was an issue, he would pace back and forth. Over the past year of being his CFO, I had learned a lot of his tells.
A deep sigh came through the receiver. “I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important. Can you have Brock drive you to the new jobsite and meet with the project manager? He’s having a problem costing the new job. I would send the account manager for the project, but Randy called in sick, and I have a meeting I can’t miss.”
I knew I should have said no because Brock wasn’t with me, and I wasn’t supposed to leave by myself. But what could go wrong? I would run to the jobsite and come right back. I had a company car I seldom used. No one would know I was gone.
“Sure. When is he expecting me?”
“Can Brock take you now?”
“I can go now,” I replied immediately. Technically, I didn’t lie.
Alex breathed a sigh of relief and thanked me.
My assistant was buried in a heap of documents when I walked out to her desk. Joana was in her early twenties. She was taking night classes, getting her degree in accounting. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail, and she had dark circles around her eyes that I hadn’t noticed earlier.
“Hey, Joana. Is everything okay? You look tired.”
“Nothing you need to worry about. School is kicking my butt.” I got the sense that she wasn’t telling me everything, but I had to run. I would ask her more questions tomorrow.
I grabbed the company car keys off the shelf. “Why don’t you head home for the day? I have to go to a jobsite for Alex.”
She looked up at me, scrunching her nose, thinking about something before she spoke. “When Brock was here earlier, he said you weren’t supposed to leave. I care about you and don’t want anything to happen to you. Does Alex know you are going off by yourself?”
“I told Alex I would take care of the meeting,” I told her. I’m a grown-ass woman. I can go to a meeting by myself.
“Okay.” Joana looked like she wanted to say something but held back. I turned on my Jimmy Choo heels and hightailed it toward the elevator. Since getting promoted, my office was on the same floor as Alex’s. I hoped he was already at his meeting and wouldn’t see me sneak out.
Ten minutes later, I made it to the fourth floor of the parking garage. I felt like I was fifteen again, trying to sneak out of my father’s castle, which was a lot harder because we had guards surrounding the castle. I only remember a handful of times Patty and I made it out without getting caught. I think the few times we did make it out, the guards followed us without our knowing it.
As I was walking toward the car, I meant to click the button on my key fob to unlock it. Instead, I hit the starter button, and the white Mercedes SUV exploded. The force of the explosion caused me to fly back and land on my tailbone. The blast made all the car alarms go off. The smoke smelled like burned rubber.
I needed to get out of the parking garage and call for help. Trying to get up was a challenge since my equilibrium was off from the force of the blast. My ears were still ringing, and sounds were going in and out. When I tried for the fifth time to get up, someone was at my side. It took a couple seconds for my eyes to focus. It was Antonio, one of Alex’s younger brothers.
“Jessica, are you all right? Anything feel broken? Where’s Brock?”
The question about anything being broken made me laugh hysterically. I had just had my casts removed yesterday. When Brock found out I tried to drive myself somewhere, he would deliver on his promise to tan my ass. I couldn’t stop laughing. Antonio said something about shock before he lifted me into a cradle position and walked toward the elevator.
“Jessica, you need to tell me where Brock is. They can’t locate him in the garage,” Antonio said before putting his phone back up to his ear. All the security guards were talking to each other through the earpieces.
“He’s at work.”
The look on Antonio’s face was pure fury. I could feel it vibrating off his body. “What were you doing in the garage?” he demanded. His question left no room for avoidance.
Well, I had done something wrong, and I needed to fess up. “Alex needed me to take a meeting for him. It was at one of our project sites.” I was coming down from the adrenaline high, and coming that close to death again was beginning to set in. Tears ran down my face.
When we entered the elevator, I asked Antonio to put me down. He refused, and we rode the next twenty-seven floors in pure silence.
Once we reached my floor, Antonio headed to the left toward Alex’s office. I would have to deal with three alpha men and their egos.
“You can take me to my office. Numbers don’t calculate themselves. I will call the project manager, and we can do it over the phone. When Alex gets out of his meeting, I will tell him what happened.” Maybe I could sneak out before Alex’s meeting was over and go into hiding. I wasn’t sure who would yell at me the most—Alex or Brock.
Antonio gave me a stern stare. “No.”
When we walked around the corner, the double doors to Alex’s office were open. He was pacing back and forth, yelling about something, and his assistant, Sarah, was taking notes. When he saw Antonio caring me, he headed toward us. “Thank god you’re okay.” Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool. “Is Brock in the garage working the case?” Alex asked Antonio.
Once Antonio had set me on Alex’s white couch and dropped a blanket over me, he replied, “No.”
“What the fuck do you mean no? Where is he? Is he okay?”
Antonio looked at me and raised his eyebrows. It seemed Antonio wanted me to explain why Brock wasn’t with me. “Umm, Brock is at Blackwood Security. He’s meeting with a high-profile client.”
Alex was not holding his anger in any longer. “That can’t be right. I told you to take Brock to the jobsite!”
The tears streaked down my face. “I wanted to help you out. Brock is meeting with new clients today. I told you I would take care of it. I never said Brock would take me.”
Alex stormed back to his desk and picked up his cell phone.
I leaped off the couch to stop him. The blanket pooled on the ground, and I tried to hobble toward him. “You can’t call him. He is in important meetings. With Sam and Patty gone, he’s in charge.”
Alex gave me an I don’t give a shit stare and dialed Brock’s number.
Brock
This day was turning into a clusterfuck. I hated having to leave Jessica alone at work. With Sam gone to Shialia, we were short-handed. The FBI Director, Charles Westblack, needed help on a human trafficking case that kept leading to dead ends.
I had been in a meeting with the FBI director for the past couple hours. Another woman had been seized, and the FBI thought the Mujahideen terrorist group was behind the kidnapping. Mia would take lead on the case. I was helping with the digital fingerprint.
The door to the conference room swung open, and John walked in. I could tell by the look of him that he had more bad news. I took a swig of my warm Mountain Dew before addressing him.
“What’s going on, John?”
John shifted. “Do you have your phone on you?”
Fuck. I had put it on the charger and forgotten to bring it with me.
“Alex has been trying to get in touch with you, and he’s not happy.” Knowing Alex, he’d probably chewed John out because I didn’t have my phone.
I didn’t care that we had the FBI director in the room. Mia could finish working on the case and grab anyone else she needed. If Alex was throwing a fit, it meant something had happened to Jessica.
I ran down the cream-colored hallway to my lair. My phone was on the charger next to my keyboard. I swiped my finger across the screen and saw I had thirty missed calls, all from Alex. Dialing Alex and grabbing my truck keys, I ran toward the exit. Alex picked up on the first ring.
“About fucking time you called me back!” Alex screamed in th
e phone.
“Is Jessica okay?” I’d become accustomed to Alex’s temper tantrums, and they didn’t bother me anymore.
“Yes, other than her work car blew up ten seconds before she got in it.”
6
Jessica
Since the car bombing incident, Brock had taken my security to a new level. I wasn’t allowed to leave the building that held Sam’s BDSM club, the Blackwood Security offices, and Sam’s and Brock’s apartments. Alex had my office computer and files delivered to me there and ordered me stay put. He said that if I attempted to walk into Ross Enterprises, he would fire me. Brock had reconfigured the connection on my laptop so that it would only work on the Blackwood network.
After being stuck inside for a while, I was looking forward to a change of scenery. Brock had to work at the club this evening, but he was worried about leaving me alone for more than a few minutes. So I was going to visit the Club Sanctorum for the first time.
Over the past couple of weeks, Brock and I had discussed what scenes I might see. He was concerned that some of the scenes might trigger a panic attack. I didn’t think they would. If I kept the right frame of mind, nothing should trigger an attack. My main triggers were words. I went into flashbacks when I heard certain phrases. Brock had emailed the club members, letting them know what words to stay away from for the evening. He gave them a list of words that might trigger a panic attack.
Living with Brock for the past few weeks had been torture. He was a sculpture of pure masculinity. At night when we watched TV, and in the morning over breakfast, Brock would wear only a pair of sweatpants that hung off his hip bones. No shirt. The man had an eight-pack, and his skin was golden brown. He had a scar on the upper-right part of his back. We hadn’t discussed his time in the military. Every time I brought it up, he changed the subject.
We were sitting at the kitchen counter enjoying our breakfast. I was trying not to throw myself at him. There was a lot of sexual tension building between us. His question brought me out of my fantasies.
“Are you sure you’re okay coming along tonight? You could sit at the reception desk with Mia.”
“No. I’m going to the club. You promised, if I did my research and didn’t escape my prison, I would get to go.”
Brock’s demeanor softened at the hitch in my voice. Not being able to go anywhere was driving me crazy.
Brock walked around the counter and wrapped me in his arms. He had gradually been getting more physical with me over the last few days. I leaned my head back against his chest. I could smell his mountain-fresh bodywash from taking a shower.
“I know it has been hard for you these last two weeks. I’m just worried someone will hurt you. How about we go out tomorrow? We can stop by your apartment to pick up mo—”
I didn’t even wait for him to finish the statement. I spun in his arms and pressed my lips to his. I was so excited to be going out tomorrow, and with the sexual tension that had been building between us, I didn’t even realize what I had done. Once my brain caught up with my actions, I tried to pull back.
Brock slid his arm up to hold my head in place and deepened the kiss. The sensation of his other hand running down my body made me come alive. When he pulled back, we were both panting.
I was wrapped in Brock’s arms when he said, “I’ve wanted to do that from the first time I saw you.” His declaration made my face turn red. I had never experienced a kiss with so much passion.
I tried to pull out of his arms, but he tightened his grip. I was about to protest when the ringer on his phone started to go off. Brock let out an aggravated breath. “We aren’t done with this.”
When he turned to get his phone, I scurried back to the guest room. I wanted to take a quick shower and get my body under control before I headed down to my temporary office to start the day.
It was the end of the month, and the budget numbers consumed my thoughts.
The feeling of someone watching me brought me out of my number-induced coma. When I looked up, a woman dressed in a black cocktail dress was standing at the door. She was tall and thin. Her long strawberry-blond hair reached down to the middle of her back.
It took me a few seconds to realize who she was. Patty had told me about Daisy. Sam and Brock’s team had rescued her from a sex slave auction three months ago. She had been sold and resold many times. They had been working with her, trying to get her back into society. Because of the years spent as a sex slave, she had social anxiety issues. She was fidgeting at the door, and I assumed she was waiting for me to ask her in.
“Hello, Daisy. Do you want to have a seat?” I gestured to the black leather chair in front of my temporary desk. The office was decorated in dark, rich neutrals. The walls were a deep gray. The furniture was dark brown or black. The office had no pop of color.
Daisy walked in and sat on the chair, tucking her legs underneath her. “Master Brock didn’t want me to disturb you if you were too busy.” She was chewing on her bottom lip, nervous about upsetting me.
I wasn’t close to being done with the latest income statement, but I wanted to meet new people. I also knew Daisy needed more social interaction. It wasn’t until I looked down to close out the accounting software that I noticed it was already a quarter to five. Brock and I were going to the club at seven, and I wanted to spend time getting ready.
“Not a problem at all, Daisy. I didn’t realize it was this late already. Was there something you needed?”
“Daisy likes doing hair and makeup,” Daisy replied, speaking of herself in the third person. “Master Brock said, if you wanted, I could do yours. Sir didn’t want me to disrupt you if you were busy. I thought you looked really busy. Daisy wanted to play with your hair. It’s so pretty.” By the time Daisy had finished talking, she was staring at the floor. I could see a light sheen of tears in her eyes.
I wanted to hug her and take her in as my own pet. “Daisy, you didn’t disturb me, and I couldn’t imagine anyone else doing my hair and makeup.”
Her manner changed immediately when I said she could work on me. She jumped out of her chair, and before I knew it, I had a six-foot, strawberry blonde on my lap, giving me a hug. All I could do was chuckle.
“Why don’t we head to Brock’s apartment? On our way up, we can stop by his office and let him know what we’re planning.”
After Daisy removed herself from my lap, we headed down to Brock’s office. He was typing intensely at the keyboard, a piece of licorice hanging out of his mouth. On the left screen was the picture of a man I had spent years trying to forget, the man that had kidnapped and tortured me for days. His dead black eyes were staring back at me.
“She wasn’t upset a second ago. Daisy didn’t disturb her. Daisy doesn’t know what’s wrong.”
I heard Brock cuss underneath his breath. The screen with Axmed’s face on it went black. The only reason Brock would have Axmed’s picture on the monitor was if he thought Axmed was behind the attacks. I wasn’t sure how this information made me feel.
“Daisy, you’re fine. You did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have had Axmed’s picture on display,” Brock replied to Daisy in a panic.
“When Daisy gets upset about the man who tortured her, she throws darts at his face or puts his face on a punching bag. Daisy has a punching bag in her room. Do you want to go punch him? It will be fun.”
Her crazy talk brought me back to the present and made me laugh. “No, I think I’ll be fine. Seeing Axmed’s face was a surprise, is all. Does this mean you figured out who’s after me?” My voice was shaking by the time I had my question out.
Brock wrapped his arms around me tightly. The feeling of being close to him helped tamp down the shock of seeing that man’s face again.
“I was stopping by to let you know Daisy and I are heading up to the apartment. She’s going to help me with my hair and makeup.” I tried to pull out of Brock’s arms so I could head upstairs and get ready.
He placed a kiss on my forehead. “Okay. I will have an out
fit waiting for you in the club dressing room. Daisy can take you there afterward.” When he finally released his hold, Daisy and I went upstairs.
Two hours later, I looked like a different person. Daisy had done my hair in loose curls. My makeup was elegant. I felt as though I were attending a ball, not a night at a BDSM club.
“Daisy did a good job. Master Brock is going to like what he sees.”
“Why don’t you do this professionally? You are amazing.” Her talent was astounding. My hair and makeup turned out incredible. Patty and I had hired a lot of makeup and hair artists over the years. None of it compared to Daisy’s work.
Daisy’s shoulders sank in response to my question. She was such a fantastic person, and I wanted to do anything to bring her spirits back. She spoke before I could apologize for what I’d said.
“Daisy was a famous makeup artist. Daisy used to do make up for the top A-list stars in Hollywood. Then, one day, a big-wig producer hired Daisy for a party. I was taken at the party and sold into slavery.”
Daisy had tears running down her face. It broke my heart that anyone would do that to such a sweet person. I wrapped my arms around her, soothing her, hoping to bring some joy back. “Well, you are my new makeup artist and hairstylist. I bet once Patty sees how well you do, she will want your help too.”
“Daisy likes that. We need to go change before we are late and Master Brock comes looking. Daisy wants to be on time so Master John gives her a reward. Daisy likes rewards.”
We headed down to the club’s changing room. It reminded me of any expensive gym changing room. There was a row of lockers, but instead of being made of metal, they were a dark oak. Pink padded chairs sat in front of each locker, and a white couch rested along the wall. Above the couch was a picture of naked women tied to a St. Andrew’s cross.
There was only one other woman in the locker room. She was changing into her clothes for the night. Daisy grabbed my arm and took me in the opposite direction. There was a present on one chair, with my name on it in silver writing.
