by KB Winters
Then there was Talia. She’d been his mistress for the last eighteen months. He didn’t even bother trying to hide her. They attended charity events together and she’d gone with him on more than a few business trips to keep him entertained in between making deals and signing contracts.
In the beginning, his cheating had damn near destroyed me. But, that was back when I was still under the illusion that we had a real marriage. That we were actually in love. Now, years later, I was smarter and saw the truth a helluva lot more clearly. I was Henry’s wife in name only. We no longer had a relationship. I couldn’t even remember the last time we’d had sex.
He was too busy with his other women, and to be frank, I’d stopped caring a long time ago. At one point I’d considered sending his posse of strippers, call girls, and gold diggers an assortment of fruit baskets or flowers as a way of thanking them for taking care of his…appetite…so that I didn’t have to anymore.
Talia was different though. She hadn’t been some late night hook up or spur of the moment fuck in the bathroom of some high end club. No, he’d taken her out in public. People we knew—together—knew who she was, and while I was pretty sure he hadn’t openly called her his mistress—there was no doubt she was. Yes, Talia had hurt me. The sick part about it was…she looked almost like me. He had a loving, doting wife at home with his child, and he chose to fuck someone with dark hair and eyes like mine, though her hair was longer, there was a resemblance.
Oh, yes, Talia was the final nail in the coffin that contained the remains of my heart—not to mention the promises I’d made to Henry on the beaches of Jamaica when we eloped.
Henry’s relationship with her was the last thing I couldn’t forgive. He’d fallen out of love with me, and in love with her.
The sound of footsteps outside the kitchen stirred me from my stewing, and I jolted ramrod straight when Henry’s large form filled my peripheral vision. I whipped around to face him and plastered a smile on my face. “Hello, darling,” I gritted out between clenched teeth. “I wasn’t expecting you home for dinner.”
Henry’s cold eyes raked over me. “You look like shit, Melissa.”
Mmm. So loving.
“I’ll change before dinner,” I replied, not batting an eye. I’d learned a long time ago that the barbs he threw were meant to rattle me so that he could take out his aggression on me and walk away, assured that I’d provoked him. If I didn’t want to end up sprawled across the kitchen floor, it was better to take whatever he wanted to dish out and cry about it later.
If I could muster up the energy.
“See that you do. Where is our son?”
I set my jaw. “Jackson is in the living room watching a show while I get dinner ready.”
“I should have known,” Henry fired back, stalking across the kitchen. “Why parent your own fucking child when the TV can do it for you. Fuck, Melissa, you’re so damned lazy. What is it you do around here all day, that you can’t take care of my son?”
My hands wrapped around the edge of the sink, squeezing so tightly to the smooth granite that my knuckles went white. “I’m sorry, Henry. It’s been a long day.”
He scoffed, apparently too disgusted to even retort my reply, and stormed from the kitchen into the adjoining family room through two large wooden doors.
In his absence, I sucked in a shaky breath and pried my hands from the counter. The only kernel of relief in the entire situation was that Henry had never once laid a hand on Jackson. He’d knocked me on my ass, but he’d never so much as raised his voice at our son.
I could only imagine what would happen if he did…
I’d spend the rest of my life in jail on a murder rap before I let that sack of shit hurt my baby.
A timer went off and I flew across the kitchen to silence it before Henry could storm back in to rage about the irritating noise. The chicken roasting in the oven was nearly done and I lost myself in preparing the side dishes and getting everything laid out on the table. Henry was rarely home for dinner, but I always made sure to prepare enough food so that if he was, he would have one less thing to complain about.
Twenty minutes later, we all sat down like a normal family around the dining room table and Henry listened as Jackson amused him with stories of the tree frog we’d found in the backyard earlier in the afternoon and the new action figure his friend, Scotty, had brought to school for show and tell.
When dinner was over, Henry went to his study, and I went to work cleaning up and getting Jackson ready for bed. As night fell, I snuggled with Jackson in his bed as we read one of his favorite stories together. When it was done, Jackson rolled over and let me hold him while we sang the goodnight song from one of his favorite cartoons. Most nights, I ended up falling asleep beside him, finding no point in going down the hall to the guest bedroom I’d been sleeping in for the past two years since Henry and I had stopped sleeping together. But my mind was still reeling over the events of the day and the nagging thoughts made it impossible to relax.
When Jackson’s breathing dropped into a steady pattern, I eased to the edge of the bed, and sneaked from the room on my tiptoes. “Sweet dreams, my baby,” I whispered at the doorway before pulling the door closed.
The house was eerily quiet and I glanced down the hall at my room, debating whether I should go lock myself away for the night, or go downstairs and see if I could engage Henry in a conversation. If I managed to get him talking, odds were it would turn into an argument, but there was a sliver of a chance that if I played it just right, I might be able to pick up some clues to determining how much he knew about my visits to Matt’s office over the past few months.
I squared my shoulders and went down the back staircase that let off in the family room. As I neared the bottom of the steps, Henry’s voice carried and I realized he was still in his study, but at some point he must have opened the door, or forgot to shut it completely after entering, because his words were crystal clear.
“—up putting the kid to bed.” Henry sighed. “Yes, I understand this is last minute, but if she goes through with this, I’ll risk losing half of everything.”
All of the air in my lungs evaporated and I doubled over, trying desperately to suck back in a breath.
He knew.
“Make it look like an accident. Jensen, I’m counting on you to figure this out. You took care of that whore Talia—”
Stars floated behind my closed eyes as I struggled for air. Cold claws of terror had a stranglehold around my windpipe.
Took care of Talia? As far as I knew, Talia was alive and well, probably tucked away in some luxury hotel suite, eating room service and spending her days lounging by the pool. But that wasn’t what it sounded like…was she dead? Had Henry killed her?
Was I next?
It was too much to comprehend. I couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
“Make it work. You’re running out of time. If you can’t do it, then find someone who can.”
A slam jolted me back to life and I ran on unsteady legs in the opposite direction, gasping for air by the time I reached the kitchen. I slipped on the marble floor in my sock-clad feet and swung into the pantry at the sound of footsteps behind me. I closed the door and sagged against it, panting to get as much air back into my lungs as possible.
Another loud thump sounded and I cringed, not sure the origin of the sound. “Melissa?”
I smoothed back my hair, took an even breath, and opened the door. “Yes?” I said, smiling sweetly at Henry.
He scowled back. “What are you doing in there?”
“Making Jackson’s lunch for tomorrow.” With the hand hidden from his sight by the door, I reached out and grasped for the basket of snacks, pulling a pouch of fruit snacks out. I held it up for Henry to see and hoped to God he couldn’t hear my heart slamming against my chest.
“All right, whatever. I need your help with something.”
“Help?” I repeated the word automatically. It wasn’t a word Hen
ry used often.
“Yes.” He gestured over his shoulder at a large duffel bag on the kitchen island. “This money needs to be delivered to Grand Fir Bank tomorrow morning after you drop Jackson off at school. The money is to be deposited into this account,” he paused to hand me a small white card with a long series of number scrawled across it in Henry’s bold print handwriting. “No stops. No errands. You take the cash directly to the bank. Yourself. Not with George. Got it?”
I nodded dumbly, trying to figure out what he was playing at. He never asked me to do anything involving his business—legitimate or otherwise. So, why now? My head was still spinning from the snippets of conversation I’d overheard and overshadowed my attempt to make sense of it all.
“Good.” Henry flashed a catlike grin at me before turning to leave the kitchen, an easy swagger to his narrow hips.
When his footsteps faded, I stepped into the kitchen to get a peek inside the bag. My mouth dropped open as I peeled back the top flap of the duffel bag and saw rows upon rows of hundred dollar bills. Math was never my strong suit, but even I knew that ballpark—I was staring at probably close to a million dollars in cold, hard cash.
I zipped the bag back together before Henry could come back and catch me looking at it. Before I could obsess any further, I stashed the bag in the pantry, shut the door tight, and scurried upstairs and barricaded myself in my room.
After a night spent tossing and turning, I’d put together and picked apart a thousand theories, each one more insane than the last, and when my alarm clock rang, I knew I was no closer to the truth than I’d been when I had lain down in my bed hours before.
All I knew was that if I delivered that money, that something very, very bad was going to happen to me.
Chapter Three
Chase
“You still bumming around on the beach?”
I smirked at my older brother, Matt’s question. “Yes, sir. You jealous?”
“Desperately,” Matt deadpanned. “Listen, I know we need to catch up, but this is actually not a social call.”
The serious tone in his voice had me sitting up at full attention. I scanned the pool area where I’d been lounging for the past hour, working my way through a King novel and a pina colada. “What’s wrong?”
“I need your help.”
“Yeah, man, what do you need?”
“Well, I have a client, she’s married to a real asshole. High power guy in the real estate biz. She’s filing for divorce, infidelity, this guys a real winner. Anyway she has a suspicion he’s going to try and have her killed before she gets a chance at half of his fortune.”
“Shit. That’s not cool.”
“Yeah. I don’t know all the details yet, but she called me this morning in a panic. She was begging for help. I don’t know what else to do. She can’t go to the cops, she doesn’t have any proof, at least not anything tangible, but I’ve been working with her for a few months now and I’ve never seen her come unglued like this. I think she’s right about this guy…”
Matt was one of the most level headed, logical men that I knew. If he thought there was a chance this woman’s hunch checked out—then it probably did. My heart went out to whoever she was. I could only imagine how terrified she must be.
“And she has a five-year-old son,” Matt added.
My guts twisted into a knot. “Double shit.”
“I need you to get them out of town for a while. I have a PI on the case to see if she’s right about this. If she is, once my guy dredges up enough evidence, we’ll take it to the authorities and I’ll get in touch to have you bring her and her son back.”
The fact that he wasn’t leaving me wiggle room to turn the job down, spoke volumes. I knew my brother well enough to know he wouldn’t ask me for such a huge favor if he wasn’t backed into a corner. “When do you need this to happen?”
“Now. Today.”
I blew out a puff of air and set my paperback on the table beside my beach chair. “Damn, bro. No pressure, huh?”
Matt chuckled. “Well, I need the best for this job, and you fit the bill.”
I grinned at his compliment. Even if it was only intended to butter me up.
I’d spent eight years as a Navy SEAL and since getting out, I’d served as a consultant with the CIA, did some private eye stuff, and taken a few private security gigs to finance my love for the beach. Truth was, I didn’t need the money. I took the jobs as they came mostly for the taste of action they usually provided. I missed my days in the SEALs, and although there were definite perks to living life on my own terms and not getting midnight calls to ship halfway around the world on one life threatening mission after another—it was tough to walk away cold turkey from the thrill of it all.
“She can pay,” Matt added, a creeping note of desperation to his tone.
“I’ll do it,” I said, pushing off my chair. I gathered my drink, paperback, and towel and started back towards my hotel room. I’d been renting a beach side suite for the last week, coming down from a gig with a crooked politician that had gotten himself tangled up with the wrong kind of people.
“Great! Chase, I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to, man. I was getting bored watching all these bikinis anyway,” I replied, a smile tugging up one corner of my mouth.
Matt laughed. “Yeah, right, glad to hear it. I’ll send you the address and a picture of her so you know who you’re looking for. Pick her up and get her somewhere safe. I’ll get in touch with you as soon as I know more about what’s going on.”
“Got it.”
We said goodbye and I clicked off the call as I made my way back to my hotel room. The maid had been by while I was out at the pool and a fresh clean smell lingered. I tossed the contents of my drink in the sink and set the dirty glass off to the side. My phone buzzed as I was stripping down to take a quick shower and I stopped cold at the striking woman staring back at me from the photo and text Matt had just sent.
This is Melissa O’Keefe. Husband is Henry O’Keefe, the big shot real estate tycoon. Son’s name is Jackson. They’ll be waiting for you at the airport.
I tore my eyes off the photo of the dark haired beauty and tapped out a quick reply.
No airport. If he’s after her, that’s the first place he’ll look. No train stations, bus depots, airports. Have her wait for me at the McDonald’s by the airport instead. Much safer.
Satisfied that my orders would be followed, I dropped my phone onto the table and went to the bathroom to rinse off the chlorine smell from my laps in the pool earlier that morning. When I stepped out, I had a message back from Matt and nodded at his agreement to my change of plans.
I dressed quickly and packed up the few items that weren’t already in my duffel bag and hurried to check out of the hotel, three days before I was set to leave. I didn’t know how long I’d be taking care of Melissa and her son, but if it turned out the way I was imagining—it would be longer than three days—a lot longer.
My vacation was officially over.
* * * *
As promised, Melissa and her son were waiting inside the McDonald’s a few blocks off the exit to the airport. I spotted them before they saw me through the windows as I approached the front doors of the fast food joint, but as soon as I pushed through the doors, Melissa’s eyes darted to mine and went wide with recognition. She kept her arm draped around the shoulders of her son, but stood from where she’d been perched at the edge of a booth on the opposite end of the restaurant.
Smart woman, I noted to myself, assessing how she’d positioned her back to the wall and close to a side emergency exit. I appreciated her quick wit but couldn’t hold back a grimace at the thought of whatever she’d been through to make her so paranoid and alert to danger.
I joined them and extended my hand. “Chase Hart,” I said.
Melissa took my hand and gave it a firm shake. “Melissa O’Keefe and this is Jackson.”
“Hi,” the boy said, shifting
his eyes up at me, a sad look on his face.
I squatted down to get eye to eye with the towheaded boy. “Hey, Jackson. I’m your new buddy, okay? I’m here to help you out.”
He nodded but glanced at his mom for confirmation. She gave him a small smile and bobbed her head. “That’s right. We’re going to spend some time with Chase for a couple of days, okay?”
Jackson didn’t look convinced. “But I wanted to go to school and play with my friends today, Mom.”
Melissa’s eyes fluttered closed and I could tell this wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation since leaving the house earlier that morning.
“We’re going to go on an adventure,” I interjected, drawing his attention away from his mother for a moment. “It’s gonna be fun. I promise.”
Jackson eyed me suspiciously and I clapped him on the shoulder before rising to my feet.
“Thank you,” Melissa said, sweeping a tawny strand of hair away from Jackson’s forehead. “Uhm, what do we do now? I have a car outside.”
“Come on,” I glanced around the room. It wasn’t full, but there were enough people within earshot that I didn’t want to lay out any details of my plan.
We started for the doors, but Jackson stopped short and planted his feet. With a pout, he crossed his arms and glared up at Melissa. “I’m not leaving until we get my toy!” He declared, loud enough to draw the attention of those around us.
“I’m sorry, Jackson. I forgot.” She glanced at me. “Sorry, I promised him he could get a toy…did you want anything?”
“I’ll take care of this,” I said, holding up a hand. “What does he like?”
“Nuggets.”
“Okay. Stay here.”
I got in line and ordered three meals from the cashier, making sure a toy would be included with the order, and asked that they hurry. With the food in hand, I led the way outside, and Melissa showed me to her large SUV.
