“Then let's explore them today,” he invites me, his hand going down to cup my hip.
“You trying to wear me out?” I laugh, purring when he cups my ass. His hands feel so good, but I want to draw it out, make it last. “Come on, we've got time. Go get a shower while I make a few phone calls, and we'll plan out the rest of the day.”
Jackson shakes his head. “Only after a good morning kiss. Then I'll go. If not, I'm dragging you to the shower where I’m going to seduce you, and then I’m going to do it again on the bed afterward before you can make your phone call.”
I chuckle and kiss him, loving this side of him. It's something I've had so little time for. It feels nice. “There. Now go, and if my phone call goes quickly enough, maybe I'll join you for the last part of the shower.”
Jackson grins and gets up, giving me quite a show of his naked butt as he walks into the bathroom, and I roll off the bed, finding my phone. I know who I want to contact, and I need Jackson out of the room to do so. I wait until I hear the shower start, and through the crack in the door I see him get in and start washing. Opening my apps, I see that Andrea has tried to contact me via Viber, and I return her call. She's online, and maybe she's got a smartphone like me, so I don't have to wait.
“Hello?”
“It's good to hear your voice again, Andrea.”
“It's been too long, Katrina. How is Savannah?”
“Actually, we're in Miami. That's what I wanted to call you about. I found my parents. They're alive.”
“Whoa. I suspected something with the way Nathan and Jackson bounced so quickly, but that's one I didn't think of.”
“Yeah well, Peter helped my parents fake their deaths. Nathan's already told Jackson about it, and it's a stake in Peter's heart if I can prove it. Andrea, I'm going to need your help.”
“What can I do?”
“I’ve never been able to crack Peter's home computer, or wherever he keeps whatever electronic files he's got. If I can get something to tie him to my parents' faked deaths, and to the dirty dealings my... that Sam Grammercy was doing, I can bring him down quickly.”
“What's the rush? I mean, besides your life being in danger.”
“I'm ready to move on from all of this. But I have to complete it first. I’ve put too much into this to just give it up. Andrea... can you help me?”
“Damn right. Let me get to work.”
“Thanks. I'll have another friend working it too, so if you run into someone online called BlakDhal1A, chill. That's my girl.”
“All right, I'll be in touch. For now, though, I've got class in ten. Enjoy Miami.”
Andrea hangs up, and I set my phone back in my bag. I hear the shower turn off and Jackson get out. “Any longer and I'd turn into a prune,” he calls. “But if you want, you can help me dry off.”
“Hmm, maybe I can,” I tease, going into the bathroom where he's dripping, gloriously naked, his cock hanging long and thick between his legs, and twitching as he sees me. “What, did you think I'd get dressed?”
“I wasn't sure, but I'm glad you didn't,” he replies, kissing me when I come close enough. “I thought you wanted to take your time?”
“I do. This is just a little foreplay,” I say. He’s already rock hard and ready to go at it, but we’ve got things to do. “Come on. Let's get dressed, go get some breakfast, and then we'll have all day to have fun before we head back to New Orleans and put this whole damn thing behind us.”
I leave the bathroom, Jackson lagging behind as he wipes down, and I get dressed quickly. I'm hungry, and after having sex, I'm looking forward to a big breakfast before coming back for more.
“Actually, I was thinking about that in the shower,” Jackson says nervously. “Uhm, is there a way that maybe we can get your vengeance without Peter going to jail?”
I've got my pants on, and my sports bra is half on, but I pause, shocked at what I just heard. I finish pulling my bra on and reach for a t-shirt, since it's closest. “You must be joking, Jackson. What do you want me to do, kill him?”
Jackson blanches, and shakes his head. “No, no. What I mean is... what about just the two of us running away? We live well, and safe from his influence. Isn't that a better revenge than destroying him and hurting others?”
“Others?” I ask, sensing where this is going. “You mean hurting your ability to drop five hundred bucks on a skirt and sandals for me, don't you? Didn't think I noticed the price tag?”
Jackson blushes, but shakes his head. “No... not just that, Katrina. I mean, there's my mother, and as bad as she was to me, she can't survive on her own. And Andrea, she's still in school, and then there's the other people who may...”
“Stop it, Jackson. Just... cut the bullshit,” I snap, pulling my t-shirt on. I sit down and pull my socks on, looking for my boots. “Jesus, I had hoped we were past this point. It's not about the fucking money! Life isn't about that!”
“It isn't about blood and revenge either!” Jackson yells back, still naked. “You told me to be better than him, well, you need to be, too! Stop worrying about your goddamn vengeance and live your life! Let it go, let us be able to let it go!”
“I can't!” I yell back, furious. “I'm not looking for his death anymore, but that asshole stole ten years of my life! I can't get that back, and I'm not the only one. Maybe he didn't kill my parents, but he's killed how many more? How much of that money you're so worried about is blood money? And don't try to fucking lie, telling me it's not the money you're worried about!”
“So what are you going to do? Blow the whole damn thing up? Burn the house to the ground? Because if you send him to jail, you might as well! You know the feds and who the fuck else is going to civil sue the shit outta the estate. What then? Living broke?”
“I've done it,” I reply coldly, standing up. I go to grab my bag, and see the skirt sitting on top. I yank it out, and rip it in half, tossing the pieces onto the carpet. “It isn't as bad as you think. Might just make you stronger, Jackson.”
Before he can answer, I grab my backpack and leave, pissed and trying not to cry. I'd suspected, I'd feared since yesterday, but hearing his words, I know that I can't trust Jackson to not interfere in the rest of the plan. He cares for me, I know that. But right now... he's not ready.
“This seat taken?”
For the first time in my life, I'm well on my way to being drunk. After storming out of the hotel, I grabbed a taxi, going toward the beach, not with any purpose but to get some distance and to calm down. Distance and perspective are important for any warrior in a fight, after all, and I hoped that watching the waves on the sand would help me find some temporary peace and clarity.
The problem is, I can't calm down. I used the prepaid card I have with me to take out a couple hundred dollars, most of what's left on that card, and crash at a fleabag hotel, putting myself through a workout that leaves my body dripping in sweat, but my mind no more settled.
Jackson's tried to call me half a dozen times, and texted me more. He's apologetic, but I can read between the lines, he still wants to protect the fucking money. Finally, about two hours ago, I gave up and shut off my phone. Instead, I headed here, one of the first bars that I saw, and walked inside. Fuck it, it works for everyone else, why not me, too?
I'm about four drinks in when I hear the voice, and I turn my head, three-quarters drunk, seeing two people standing there. I have no idea who they are, but don't really care. “Go 'way. Not good conversation.”
“I can see that, Katrina,” the one person, a woman I notice, says gently. At the mention of my name my head whips back, and I reel to my feet.
“Who the fuck're you?” I ask.
“It's me,” the woman says, stepping closer into the light. “It's Andrea.”
I squint, and I realize that it is Andrea. The straight black hair, the almond-shaped eyes, but the same dark blue as Jackson's... “Well hey! It is you! How'd the hell you get here? Who's yur big friend?”
I blink, but in the di
m light of the bar, I can't make out his face. “Who are you?”
“A man who owes you a lot more than I can ever repay,” he says. “Come, let's talk. Away from the alcohol.”
“My tab though...” I protest, and the bartender, who's been watching with a leery eye, waves me off. “What?”
“We're pay as you go,” he reminds me. “We're square.”
Andrea reaches into her pocket and pulls out another bill and puts it on the bar. “Just in case, and for taking care of her,” she says. Coming closer, she takes my arm and puts it around her shoulder. “Come on, Kat. How much did you drink, anyway?”
“I dunno... less than a bottle,” I say, swaying along with Andrea's help out onto the streets. It's later than I thought it'd be, the moon is nearly fully overhead. “Hey... what time is it?”
“A little before eleven thirty,” Andrea says. The sidewalk is mostly empty, but this is the beach area of Miami, and I guess along A1A, the traffic and pedestrians don't go to bed until much later. “Sorry it took us so long to get here.”
“How did you get here?” I ask, the clear air helping me at least not slur my words. The man stays behind me and Andrea, and I sense that he's giving us security. I wonder who he is.
“Well, after you called me, Jackson called Nathan here after you two argued, Nathan gave me a call. I figured it was enough of an emergency, I booked a flight and boogied while Nathan hauled ass in his Tahoe.”
“Nathan?” I ask, turning around. I recognize him now, Nathan Black. The bastard who helped my parents fake their death. My hand flashes out, catching Nathan in the face with a slap, but he takes it without even reacting. “I should try and castrate you.”
“You should... but there's a line on people who want my balls, Miss Grammercy,” he says softly, calm. His eyes are a strangely disconcerting green, giving him almost a reptilian look in the streetlights. “Besides, Andrea and I are here to help you. After that... you and I can settle accounts between us.”
“Fine,” I say, turning back around and almost falling. “Where are we going?”
“To where I'm staying,” Andrea says. “I don't know where you're at, Jackson didn't tell Nathan.”
“How'd you find me?”
“The Viber account. I called the number, did a GPS ping off the towers. It got us here, and we've spent the past three hours checking around.”
I nod. It's a good trick, and one that I should have thought of.
“Now, let's just get you out of here, and you get to meet Maverick.”
“Who?”
“My dog,” Nathan says with a touch of affection. “I'm glad we were able to find a place that's pet-friendly.”
“A dog, a half-Japanese business student, a former Green Beret... I pick such interesting people to hang out with,” I mutter, relaxing as Andrea helps me over to a taxi. I let it all go as the taxi pulls away, Nathan crunching in up front with the driver while Andrea comforts me. I know I cry, although Andrea doesn't ask me why, and Nathan stays quiet the whole ride. We end up out by the airport again, although on the other side than where Jackson and I were staying. Driving past a bunch of houses, I'm confused. “Where're we going?”
“AirBnB,” Andrea explains as we pull up to a house. “Easy, casual, and more anonymous.”
“Good idea. Shoulda thought of that myself,” I mutter, clarity starting to come back. I feel like an ass for losing control so much, and inside me, I can hear some of my instructors telling me off for putting myself in so much danger. I'm lucky that Andrea and Nathan wanted to help, and not put a bullet in my head. “I'm hungry.”
“There's food inside, and I'll brew you some tea,” Nathan says. “If you need to rest, we can. Then we'll talk.”
“I don’t need rest,” I reply as Andrea helps me inside. We're greeted by what has to be the biggest damn dog I've ever seen, who's bouncing and wagging his tail excitedly, barking loudly when Nathan comes in behind us, closing the door. The barks drive icy daggers into my ears, and I groan. “That's not a dog, that's a fucking horse. Oh, my head.”
“Maverick!” Nathan says quietly, snapping his fingers. The dog quiets immediately, and when Nathan points, he retreats, laying down in what I guess is the living room of the house. “Sorry, he's energetic after being in the Tahoe all day.”
Andrea leads me into the kitchen, where she has me sit down and comes back with some cereal in a bowl. “It's not much, but it's all we've got right this second. Didn't do any shopping, we were kinda busy looking for you.”
“Thanks,” I mumble, picking up the dry little rings and munching on them. It's not a lot, but it'll help. “I can't believe I went and got drunk.”
“Emotions do that to us,” Nathan says quietly, no condescension in his voice, which surprises me. He goes to the stove and starts a pot of water, and leaves the room, coming back with a metal canister. “Thankfully, I keep my travel stash with me, and it's strong and black.”
“No coffee?”
Andrea chuckles and snatches a piece of cereal from my bowl. “Despite the long New Orleans tradition of some of the finest French Roast in the entire United States, Nathan here is a total heathen who only drinks tea now. I think it was all those years of bad Army coffee that got to him.”
“A Japanese girl calling someone a heathen for drinking only tea,” I remark, shaking my head slowly. “Maybe I drank more than I thought.”
“Hardly, I just like giving Nathan a hard time,” Andrea says. We're quiet, and Nathan finishes his tea brewing, bringing big mugs for all of us. “Thanks, Nathan.”
He takes a seat at the table and sips, sighing contentedly. “That's as much for me as you guys. You might want to let yours cool some though, Katrina.”
I nod my thanks and keep munching on the cereal until the bowl is empty. Andrea gets up and grabs the box, bringing it over, and I see that it's probably been left behind by the last renters since it's mostly empty already. “Fine dining.”
“The finest,” Andrea agrees quietly. “I don't want to pry... but do you want to tell us about it?”
“Tell me what you've found first,” I order, pouring another bowl of cereal and emptying the box. “And we might need a food run.”
“There's a twenty-four-hour place down the street, I saw it driving from the airport,” Nathan says. “I can go later. As for what you're asking, I believe you're talking about the files on Peter's personal computer you asked Andrea about?”
I give Andrea a raised eyebrow, and she shrugs. “Nathan and I talked after meeting up at the airport and while we've been looking for you. We laid it all out between us, making sure we're working toward the same goal. We want Peter to pay as much as you do.”
I look sideways at Nathan, who nods. “I know. Like I said, we'll discuss it later.”
“Fine. And, what have you found?”
Andrea shakes her head. “Peter kept nothing. I've had his password for a while, and copied a lot of his server a while back for... personal reasons. But he kept nothing about the bomb that was used for your parents.”
“However, I did keep information,” Nathan says before I can get upset. He takes a memory card from his pocket and sets it on the table. “I've kept it and a few other e-mails as insurance against Peter going too crazy on me. I don't know what you've got, but this could easily put him behind bars for a long, long time.”
I take the chip, and look at it. “You know that if you give this to me, you’re putting yourself in my hands?”
“I should have done that as soon as I found your loft address,” Nathan says quietly. “I should have done it again after Jackson came to me and asked me not to turn you into Peter, and then again when he asked for my allegiance in covering this trip. So don't worry about that part.”
I nod, then take out my phone, putting the chip inside. I copy the files, and then upload them to my cloud server, making sure there are copies in multiple locations. Darcy knows about the cloud. She can get the files if something happens to me. “Okay. So what n
ow?”
“Now we take him down,” Andrea says with intensity. “The only issues are timeline and method. What about Jackson?”
“He's... not on board,” I say softly, trying not to let my mood falter. I'm in work mode, and I can't be worried about Jackson right this moment. “He... he's still got some things to let go of.”
Nathan nods in understanding, then sips his tea. “Then I have an idea... one that protects him, protects you, and brings the authorities in relatively quickly.”
“I'm listening.”
Chapter 24
Jackson
I'm frantic with not knowing what to do. I've tried calling Katrina for the past two days, and I'm paralyzed with worry.
At first, when Katrina walked out, I thought she was just pissed off. I mean, I've pissed off women before, but I figured she'd come back after cooling off. It wasn't until after I got dressed that I realized her bag was gone too, and by then, it was too late. I searched the area around the hotel, but she wasn't there.
I tried text messages, calls, everything as I took the rental car around the hotel's neighborhood, hoping that maybe she stayed close. Two hours of driving later, and I tried other places as well. But nothing, which shouldn't really surprise me. Miami's a big city, and I'm looking for one woman.
Nathan calls me back, and I'm glad for his help. He came down from Savannah as soon as he could, arriving just after midnight that day, meeting me for breakfast the next morning. He searched in his Tahoe all day yesterday, and now I'm desperate.
“Nathan... what have I done?” I ask as he mechanically shovels hash browns into his mouth. We're at a diner, and I realize with a start that I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday, and I call the waitress over for a pancake breakfast. Fuck the carbs, I need food. “What have I done?”
Alpha's Baby: A Secret Baby Romance Page 41
