“Stop it,” Lorraine tried to insist, “let me through!” Unable to beat the thick rush of frightened New Yorkers, Lorraine scanned the crowd instead, desperate to find Griffin and Ashe and simply rush them away from the auditorium as quickly as possible, if it wasn't already too late.
Faces rushed past her, and Lorraine knew that wasn't the only exit, that both her husband and son could have fled out one of the other doors. When she saw Ashe running out, dragging his girlfriend Rachel out with him, Lorraine rushed over and wrapped her arms around him.
“Thank God you’re all right! You, too, Rachel. Are your parents outside?”
“I don’t know.” She said quietly.
Lorraine looked down at Ashe. “Have you seen your father?” Ashe shook his head and Lorraine scanned the crowd. “Okay, you two get outta here, run as far away as you can. Stick together and find an adult you know.”
“But Mom — ”
“Do it now, Ashe!” By then, Lorraine was already running back into the auditorium.
Treena climbed up onto the stage as the last stragglers ran out from the various exits. Lorraine slipped into the door at the side of the stage, hurrying down the hall to see Griffin pushing himself slowly up the little concrete staircase.
“Griffin!”
Lorraine rushed to Griffin’s side, slipped under his arm, and supported him in an awkward, injured gate to the door. They stopped and turned, Treena on the stage, a tragic, crumpled figure, barely able to stand upright.
Lorraine called out, “Treena, please!”
She turned slowly to look at them, her face without expression, without pain. She’d already let go of those Earthly emotions. Instead, she shouted, “Just get out!” After a long moment of consideration, Lorraine and Griffin turned, pushed the door open, and limped out of the auditorium.
They made it out of the double-doors, the last two people who would ever walk out of that auditorium alive tonight. They walked as quickly as they could, Griffin clutching his bleeding belly as Lorraine dragged him along as fast as they could go.
“Who shot you? Casper Newkirk?”
“Fat man, pale, didn't know him.” Griffin managed to say between sharp, labored breaths.
“That’s him all right. Where is he?”
“Left him knocked out, some package next to him.”
“Package,” Lorraine repeated, still hurrying the wounded Griffin away from that doomed structure. “The bomb … ”
But, that was the last second of quiet reflection Lorraine would have. The explosion burst with such volume that it hardly seemed to make any sound at all. The wave of heat and energy smacked Lorraine and Griffin from behind, pushing them forward making them stumble to the asphalt. They fell, hitting the ground hard, which was the only thing keeping them from being perforated by flying shards of shattered glass and hail-stone sized chunks of hot stone.
Lorraine’s ears were ringing, her back stinging with a slight burn. Flames replaced the explosion, the massive crackle and roar of a terrific fire, big enough to handily consume what remained of the auditorium, and everything inside of it.
Lorraine and Griffin looked up to see the auditorium burning, debris still falling, lighter chunks carried away by the heat of the fire and the spring breeze. They clutched each other, reddened faces pressing together. Ashe ran up to them and fell to his knees, the Phoenix family reunited once again, against all odds from that moment forward. They shared tears of joy and of relief, heads pressing against each other, arms intertwined, hearts bound forever.
Epilogue
One year later, another diverse crowd of Denver, Coloradans were gathered around a newly restored brownstone in Lincoln Park. Cars crawled down the boulevard, drivers gawking at the gathering. News crews were there, interviewing members of the community, the famous Phoenix family, visiting from New York especially for the dedication. The warm, salty smell of popcorn poured out from the vendor’s cart, a cloudless sky stretched out above them.
Lorraine and Griffin stood in the crowd with Ashe, who was thrilled that his fifteen-year-old girlfriend’s parents allowed Rachel to join him on the trip. He’d earned their respect, and that of every other adult he came to know. And, of course, he lived up to his reputation as a respectful, sober-minded, and gentlemanly young man.
Lorraine held little Kayla, which was harder and harder to do the older the child got. At four years old, she was a wiggle-worm, eager to investigate everything, see everything, do anything. So like her father, Lorraine thought to herself, and I suppose a bit like her mother, too.
Jeremy and Anton stood next to the Phoenix family, their newly adopted baby girl, Leezah, already asleep in Anton’s arms.
Lorraine looked out over the crowd and smiled easily. There was no trace of the fear or doubt which had plagued her over the previous four years, and for years before that. At long last, Lorraine had defeated her demons, both inside and out. Authorities finally found Mrs. B. running a pub in the London suburb of Croydon, and thanks to Griffin’s connections and Lorraine’s high profile, she was extradited. Both Mrs. B and Tony Gardner had been found guilty only two months before the Phoenix’s trip back to Denver, and they’d spend the rest of their lives in federal prison on multiple felony charges including conspiracy, attempted grand larceny, and more.
It had been an otherwise quiet year, no sign of any retribution from the school board, the Education Department, pro sports, nobody. With Casper and Treena’s deaths, Albert’s murder had been solved and avenged and a major source of department corruption taken out of commission forever.
On the stage, Sally and Larry Devonshire winked at their daughter as they drew the crowd’s applause. They had run the first Denver PEEC project learning center to success, then spearheaded the city’s second learning center in Lincoln Park, which they had just dedicated to great fanfare. The PEEC project became the center of their lives, which were healthier, happier, and more fulfilled. Sally’s smile told Lorraine how grateful she was, how proud of her daughter and grandchildren, how much she looked forward to her future.
Larry flashed Lorraine a big, goofy grin.
She couldn’t help but chuckle. She’d never been more proud of them, or happier to be their daughter. In fact, Lorraine had never been happier in her life. She’d retired from her professional pursuits to raise the children, a new little baby bump just emerging under her casual summer dress. Lorraine Devonshire Phoenix had done a lot in four years; saving the entire public library system, creating a new and thriving series of urban learning centers, clearing out some of the corruption in the public school system, even if she could never have wiped it all out completely. Lorraine was satisfied, even proud of what she’d accomplished, and she was ready to pick up the banner again if it was ever necessary.
But, she hoped and prayed that it wouldn’t be. Because of all the things she’d accomplished, some of which affected the entire nation, nothing was greater to Lorraine than her husband and children, the love and the family she and Griffin created together and enjoyed together … and nothing ever would be.
THE END
Bonus Content: Knight Brothers Series
Part I
Copyright
Copyright © 2017 by Natalia Banks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
NOTE: This is a work of fiction, names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to real life is coincidental. All characters in the story are 18 years of age or older. Intended reading audience 18+
Chapter 1
Kieran
“The tenants refuse to leave, Mr. Knight.”
I say nothing for a moment, sizing up the new guy. He’s nervous. There’s sweat beading across his hairline. He turns his head to the
side, as if he can loosen the stranglehold of his tie and I know he’s struggling not to slide a finger under the collar.
Placing my elbows on my desk, I tent my fingers and study him. His eyes trace my motions and his Adam’s apple bobs.
I imagine he fools the rest of the office, but I know he’s not as tough as he plays.
He’s a tool.
And I’m about to bring the water to boil.
“Start eviction proceedings.” My voice sounds cold to my own ears. But that’s how I got where I am today. The world is a cold, evil, heartless place. Either you keep up or you get put down.
I’m sure as fuck not going to let compassion wring my neck.
Your move, pretty boy.
His eyes widen and he shifts his weight back as if he’s trying to put even millimeters of distance between us. “But they’re-”
“Now.”
He swallows back his argument.
Checkmate, new blood.
He turns and leaves, carefully closing my office door behind him. Swiveling my chair, I stare out the window of this high rise office.
Like he’s right behind me, I hear my old man’s voice. “You’re nothing.”
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. Damn if I didn’t prove the old bastard wrong. Too bad the asshole isn’t here to let me rub his nose in my success. But no, he made his choice. A knock at the door brings me full circle in my chair.
On the other side of the glass, I see the bright blue eyes of the only person in this world that means anything to me. She slides open the door and runs over to throw an arm around my neck.
“Daddy!” She says, pressing her forehead to mine.
“How’s my warrior?” I ask, kissing her chin.
She giggles and presses her hands to my cheeks. But instead of answering with words, she closes her right hand in a fist and presses it to her little chest. I follow suit. Balling up my fist, I bring my fingers to my chest.
She taps her chest; a quick double tap that mimics her heartbeat.
I do the same.
“Still beating,” she whispers, before kissing my cheek.
The ache in my soul grows into a dark, hungry monster, but I keep upbeat for her. “How was school?”
“Mrs. Linda is mean.” Her little face scrunches up like she’s eating something sour and I want to march down to the school and put in harsh words for Mrs. Linda. Instead, I try to get Olivia to open up.
“What did she do that’s mean?” I ask.
Before she can answer, my secretary Nikki peeks in, a lollipop in hand. “Olivia!” She says, careful not to look me in the eyes. My daughter looks over at her and I see a chill take her little frame over.
“Yes?” she says, her icy tone deadpan.
But I’m not proud. I don’t want this. I don’t want her to be cold. I want her to be warm, loving, sweet, and innocent. I don’t want her to be like me. I don’t want her to be dead inside.
“Manners,” I say under my breath. Olivia’s wide blue eyes meet mine a moment, and I see a flash of understanding that’s decades too old flash behind her eyes. She glances back at Nikki, who’s stunned silent.
“Hi Nikki!” Olivia’s tone is decidedly warmer, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. She sounds like a normal nine year old now. Warm and sunny, happy, even excited.
Nikki just kind of reacts, still clearly put off by the initial reception. “I found this in my desk. I can’t eat it, so I thought you might be able to help.” Her glance suddenly meets mine and she blushes red and stammers. “I mean, if your dad-”
“It’s fine.” My tone is dead. It’s not like I don’t know where Olivia is learning it from. She’s my daughter, all right. And she’s a blessing, yet I’m a bastard for taking something so pure and perfect and destroying it.
“Oh, you’re so sweet,” Olivia says, her tone honey as she leaves my side to skip over to Nikki. She takes the treat and tucks it in her pocket before telling me she’s off to the loo.
Nikki looks after her and I look at Nikki.
My eyes glide over her pleasant curves. Her skirt is proper, carefully measured to just above her knees. But the brilliant crimson of them screams Look at me! and I doubt any red-blooded man could resist. Her legs are long, slim, and would look amazing wrapped around my hips.
Her cream-colored blouse is tucked in at the waist, showcasing her flat belly. But the thrust of her breasts leaves me no doubt she’s either god’s gift to men or she’s had work done. Her neck is long and slender, and her lips match her skirt.
I wonder how often she reapplies that lipstick? It would have to be often to keep it so perfect. And that color, like ripe red tomatoes, would look incredible circling the base of my cock.
As if she can hear my thoughts, Nikki looks over at me, her cheeks suddenly reddening.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Knight, I should have asked first-”
“It’s fine,” I say, still looking at her. Her wide eyes are warm, but I see fear there. Good. It’s better if they fear me. It stops them from asking stupid questions or wasting my time with things that I really don’t want to deal with.
Her chocolate hair is twisted up in a bun that’s loose. Tendrils have escaped to frame her pale face and cling to her neck. There’s heat on her skin, and the slight sheen of moisture. It’s not hot in my office, I guess I just make everyone sweat.
But the blush creeping down her chest is clearly not embarrassment. And when her eyes stray to my lips, I see her heart begin to pound the delicate skin covering the hollow at the base of her throat.
She seems trapped, caught like a fly in a spider’s web as we study each other.
“Daddy!” Olivia says, walking back in.
“Vi,” I say, not taking my eyes off Nikki. “Is Sandy not waiting?” Her nanny is forever pushing limits. As it is, I’m certain the woman is sitting in the car on the curb right now, waiting for Olivia to come back rather than staying with her.
How many times do I have to tell the woman that I don’t care if she thinks my nine year old needs freedoms, and that I want her escorted everywhere? You don’t get where I am without making a few enemies. And though I’ve got a bodyguard who’s starting tomorrow, I would still like the nanny to be by Olivia’s side.
Not that she couldn’t take care of herself. I had her take her first self-defense class at three. And now, when we spar, she’s quick and ready when I try to surprise her. Still, as tough as she is, she’s still a small child. Even if she fought her heart out, it would be possible for someone large to grab her and toss her in the back of a car and drive off.
I know she’d fight like hell to get free, and we’ve got a plan in place if that happens, but I still don’t want that plan to become a reality.
She doesn’t need that trauma on top of everything else life has dealt her.
Olivia’s face falls, and I know I caught her. I fix the full force of my fatherly anger on her and she has the grace to look somewhat contrite. “Yes. I’ll go. I love you daddy,” she says, pulling me into another hug.
“I love you too,” I say softly for her ears only.
I’m not my father. She’ll always know how much I love her. She’ll know I value her, that she’s everything to me, that life wouldn’t be worth living without her.
“Now go,” I tell her and she walks off like a proper lady, her chin held high.
“She’s so cute,” Nikki says, and I realize this is the most conversation we’ve had since she started two years ago. She’d been eighteen then. I’d noticed her, but only vaguely. As much as I notice anyone in the office.
Sure, she’s got a nice body, but I don’t mix business and pleasure. That’s a recipe for disaster. And it’s not like I don’t have plenty of women on hold, waiting for me to call or text them.
“Is Sandy her mom?” Nikki asks, and I fix the full force of my glare on her.
She winces and backs toward the door. “I’m sorry, Mr. Knight.”
“Get out.”
She no
ds and escapes my office, closing the sliding glass door with a thump. I stare after her, thinking about those red lips. I can think of a punishment for her.
Fuck. I need to blow off some steam.
First the stupid tenants in the new house I bought are refusing to get the fuck out, and now I’m seriously thinking about fucking a woman I work with. I must be losing it.
Planting my elbows on my desk, I put my face in my hands and let out a sigh. Nothing comes easy.
Is Sandy her mom? Damn it. That last thing I want is more drama, more bullshit. Why are people so shocked at the thought of a single dad? What, women can’t be shitty parents too? Only men cut ties and run? Only men can be deadbeats? Jesus Christ, what is wrong with the world that we think only women are there for their kids, that men are the ones who leave, that it’s anyone’s business who Olivia’s mom is?
I don’t owe anyone a damn thing. And I certainly don’t owe my co-workers explanations on the dysfunction of my personal life.
The best thing that bitch ever did was walk away.
We don’t need her. Olivia and I, we’re just perfect on our own. I’ve got her, she’s got me, and we’re getting along just fine.
Still furious, I stare at the paperwork on my desk and try to divert my energy to work. The tenants have to leave for me to renovate the house. I work on one project at a time, so the roadblocks are more infuriating. My hands are tied, and I don’t like being in a situation I don’t have full control over. My old man taught me to make sure I’m always on top.
“Even a hooker is waiting to cut your throat and take your wallet,” he’d told me on my twelfth birthday. Great words for a young boy to hear. But he’s right. Everyone is waiting to see a weak spot to exploit.
“You’ve got to strike before they have the chance.”
Yeah, he gave me more gold than I give him credit for. But I would have traded it all. But it is what it is. I made myself. I took the information he gave me and used it to crawl out of the hole he’d dug for me.
Capture Me Page 47
