Damage Control

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “You said there was a murder. That doesn’t sound like you think this was an accident.”

  “There was an obvious struggle. I believe they fought, but what kind of person bashes a man’s head in, Shane?” She swallows hard and shuts her eyes a moment before she looks at me again. “It wasn’t one bash to the head. Or maybe it was. Who am I to judge? I could barely look at him like that.”

  “If you think it was more than self-defense,” I say, “I trust your instincts. What was his reasoning for not going to the police?”

  “He said that Geminis don’t turn in Geminis or they end up dead. And Geminis that steal from Geminis end up tortured and then dead. In my eyes, that was a reason for him to offer evidence against the Geminis in exchange for immunity.”

  “But he didn’t agree.”

  “He told me he had to clean up the mess, prove his innocence. And if he failed, he said two things would happen: They’d make him watch me die and then they’d kill him. I told him I’d go to the police. I’m not a Gemini, but he said anyone who turned on them ended up dead.”

  “That’s when he told you to run,” I say, but I’m beginning to think he was just getting rid of a problem, thankfully without killing her.

  “Yes,” she confirms. “That’s when he told me to run. He had me take a leave from school, made my new identification, and sent me on my way. He wouldn’t even let me touch the money my mother left me that I have saved. He said it would look to the Geminis, and the police, like I was running. Which I am, but he made up some story about some trip to Africa to help the starving and sick. Booked my tickets, registered me.”

  “Let’s hope he did a better job of that than he did on your identity.” And as I’m suspicious by nature, and even more so about her brother, I ask, “How much money do you have in your account?”

  “Two hundred thousand in three accounts. I’m paranoid. I didn’t want it all in one place.”

  “And your brother has money too, right?”

  “Oh yes. He’s a millionaire, just like my stepfather. And if you’re asking yourself why am I living like I am here in Denver, it’s a good question. He keeps promising to send me my money, but he doesn’t.”

  “What is his reasoning?”

  “He says he’s trying to find a way to send it to me without drawing attention, but he’s sent me nothing. Not a dime. I left school because of him, and I can’t even get to my own money. I was down to pennies when I got the job working for your father.”

  “Based on what you’ve told me about your stepfather, I now know why you handle my father so well.”

  “My brother and stepfather are different variations of your father. All three are rich, arrogant jerks. He’s actually a little too like my stepfather for comfort.”

  “They’re both certainly poison to everyone around them. Do you have any idea if your stepfather has been found?”

  “My brother told me he made it look like he left the country.”

  “We can find that out, and let’s hope he did a better job of that than he did of creating your new identity. I’m going to get Seth to do some discreet digging and we’ll have answers tomorrow.” I stroke her hair behind her ear. “I want you to move in with me.”

  She catches my hand. “How, after all I’ve told you, can you think that having me in your life is a good idea? I don’t want to be an obligation. I’m fine at my apartment.”

  “Sweetheart, there are a hundred ways I could help you and not invite you into my bed, or my life. I want you to live with me.”

  “Shane—”

  I lean in and press my lips to hers, lingering there before I inch back and look at her. “Save whatever you’re going to say for my bed that is now our bed, unless it’s a request to get naked one more time before we leave.” I lower my voice, confessing what I’ve felt, but haven’t even admitted to myself. “I need you with me.”

  “You don’t have to be my protector.”

  I think of my family, of the lines I’ve walked for them, of the lines, even now, I cross, and something about this woman reminds me why I can’t be the Brandon my father wants me to be. “Maybe it’s me who needs you to protect me.”

  “You? Who do you need protection from?

  My lips quirk. “Usually my mother.”

  “I’d laugh, but I think we all need protection from your mother.”

  My mother’s motives and actions burn in the back of my mind, but right now, it’s Emily’s mother that deserves attention. “Speaking of mothers,” I say, reaching into my pocket and removing the velvet box, which I open for her.

  She sucks in air and reaches out to touch the chain before glancing up at me. “Thank you, Shane.”

  “Why aren’t you wearing it?”

  “I never took it off before all of this happened. It seemed like something the police might detail on my wanted poster.” She reaches up and tugs on her dark brown hair. “Right along with the blond hair I no longer have.”

  “You’re really a blonde?”

  “Yes. I am. Can you picture it?”

  “I’ll picture it when you change it back.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to go back.”

  “We can buy a wig.” I glance down at the velvet box. “Put the bracelet on.”

  “No,” she says, resolutely shutting the box and taking it from me. “It’s too much a part of the old me. I need to be the new me. That’s how I survive.” She speaks the words with the strength and bravado I expect from her, but underneath there is a vulnerability that says she’s still scared. I want to tell her she doesn’t have a reason to be.

  My cell phone rings and I dig it out of my pocket, see Seth’s number on the screen, and hit the answer button. “How are things there?” he asks, and I know him well enough to see this as the prelude to whatever he really called about.

  “We’re headed to the garage in five minutes,” I say and, as if Emily takes my cue, she slides off the bed to start dressing. “Why?”

  “There was a partial power outage at Brandon Pharmaceuticals,” Seth says, “and it included the security cameras.”

  I don’t react. Not with Emily sitting here watching me. I’m also aware that the assembly lines are shut down for the night, and that my cell phone can never be assured secure; I keep my question cautious. “Any activity?”

  “They were back up before security could even alert us,” he says. “And nothing appears out of line.”

  Translation: We know my brother has invited a drug cartel into our operation and we still have no clue how they’re operating. “I’ll talk to you when I get downstairs.” I end the call and look up to find Emily standing by the door, her back to me, at the same moment as she pulls off my T-shirt, leaving me a view of her gorgeous naked skin, that has me thinking of her breasts. Inhaling, I remind myself I have problems to solve that won’t happen in this room with Emily naked. But I will have her naked again tonight.

  Standing, I shove my phone into my pocket. Emily whirls around to face me and tosses me my shirt. I catch it and put it on, the naturally sweet scent of her clinging to the cotton the way it does to my bed, which is now her bed. She is sweet, and yet somehow still tough as nails. It’s a combination that works for me, but as I watch her shove that velvet box in her pocket, afraid to even embrace a tiny piece of her past, I am struck by a hard reality. She’s escaping from one corrupt family to hide inside another. Mine.

  EMILY

  This time when Shane and I walk to the elevator, it’s hand in hand, but he doesn’t speak and I know him well enough to know he’s troubled and I don’t think it’s about me. We enter the elevator and he punches the lobby level and then he’s leaning against the wall and pulling me to him, and he is a hard body in all of the places I am soft. Strong in ways that are not just sexy, but I admire that trait in him. And suddenly, I’m not thinking about my brother, or my name, or law school, but him. This man. His battles to save a company from a father who cannot be saved, and how I can help him survive and
thrive.

  “I have to take care of some business when we get to the apartment,” he says. “But I’m thinking pizza, then a hot shower and a warm bed, both with you in them.”

  “You’ll get no objection from me, but is there any chance we could swing by my apartment so I can grab a few things?”

  “You and that empty apartment are done,” he says. “Your stuff is in the car and a shopping trip is in your future. And”—he reaches into his pocket and hands me my cell phone—“I’m guessing you didn’t accidentally leave that in your coat.”

  “No,” I admit. “I was trying to throw you off.”

  “Coming to my apartment took balls.”

  “My secret weapon,” I say. “I have a set of my own.”

  “I like that about you, except when it works against me.” He molds me close. “Don’t do that again.”

  “I won’t,” I promise.

  “Maybe I’ll just tie you to the bed to be sure.”

  “Will you be in bed with me?”

  His lips curve. “That’s the only way it makes sense.”

  The elevator dings and he takes my hand, leading me into the garage. We round the corner to find Seth a few feet away, wearing a trench coat and leaning against a black Mercedes. And while he normally has that lethal, hard air about him, which you’d expect from ex-CIA, tonight he’s reading more like the Mafia, with me on the hit list.

  “Can we hurry up and convince him I’m not the enemy before he shoots me or something?”

  Shane laughs. “Look on the bright side. He’ll shoot your enemies once he knows they exist too.”

  “No. He’ll shoot your enemies.”

  “Your enemies are my enemies,” he says, and fortunately Seth doesn’t look at me as we reach the car. Or maybe it’s unfortunately. I kind of get the impression he’s calculating ways to tie me up and he’s the wrong man for that job.

  Shane opens the back door for me. “Give us just a minute,” he says, and I gladly nod and slide into the car, the warm air surrounding me, exhaustion seeming to hit me like a blow. I slide low into the seat and close my eyes, heaviness overcoming me.

  Shane and Seth’s voices hum outside the car, random words reaching my ears. Brother. Stepfather. Texas. Law school. Law school. If I stay Emily, I’ve lost my credits, and I can’t go back without risking discovery. God, that hurts, but I know it’s true. I’m lingering on that painful thought when the word “Gemini” rumbles off the glass, spoken by Seth in just the right tone, at just the right spot outside, for me to hear him clearly now.

  “I worked a case involving the Geminis,” Seth goes on to say. “If they are after her, she’s in trouble. And so are we if they find her.”

  I wonder if this is the moment when Shane regrets coming after me.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  EMILY

  I hold my breath, waiting on Shane’s reply, which comes without hesitation. “Can you keep her off their radar?”

  “I have questions I need answered before I can give you a conclusive reply.”

  They move toward the driver’s door, and I frustratingly can’t hear the rest of what they say. I’m about to just get out and ask when the doors open, and Shane slides in beside me, while Seth claims the driver’s seat.

  “What questions do you need answered?” I blurt out.

  Seth eyes me in the rearview mirror and then he and Shane exchange a look, before Seth puts us in drive. Shane turns to me and takes my hand. “Obviously you heard that conversation.”

  “Enough to know the Geminis are as dangerous as I suspected and I need to disappear completely and I can’t stay here and expose you.”

  “Does your brother know where you live or work?” Seth asks.

  “No,” I say. “He only knows I’m in Denver because he bought my airline ticket. That and five thousand dollars and I was on my own.”

  “How long ago was that?” Seth asks.

  “Two months ago,” I reply.

  Shane gives me a disbelieving look. “And he hasn’t even asked how you’re surviving?”

  “He didn’t ask,” I confirm. “Our conversations were short and I didn’t tell him I had a job because I was afraid he wouldn’t send me my money.”

  “That certainly makes things less complicated,” Seth says, and already we’ve traveled the short three blocks to the Four Seasons and are at the door.

  “Seth is going to park and come upstairs,” Shane says when the doorman opens the door.

  Eager to get upstairs and get a plan together, I exit the car, and for once I’m thankful our favorite doorman Tai isn’t around, because I really can’t make small talk right now. Shane steps to my side, palming the man who’d gotten my door a bill, and then drapes his arm over my shoulder. “Deep breath, sweetheart. Things happen for a reason and that reason was to get our shields up and impermeable.”

  “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  “Yes. It’s possible.”

  “God, I love how confident you are about everything,” I say, and we round the corner toward the elevators. One of the cars dings and Shane and I step to the doors, waiting for them to open. When they do, they reveal Brandon Senior. I suck in air at the unexpected, and highly unlikely, second encounter in one night, but then everything about this evening has been trouble. He is different now. His tie is missing, his face is redder than normal, and I have the uncomfortable feeling he’s just had sex, and yet, there is this dull throb of what I think might be pain, and perhaps the reason he’s leaving, in the depths of his gray eyes.

  “In for the evening?” he asks, looking between us.

  “Mr. Brandon—” I begin, not even sure what explanation is going to come out of my mouth.

  “In the morning,” Shane says, his arm wrapping my waist, hand settling at my hip. “Goodnight, father.”

  Brandon Senior’s eyes light, that dull throb banking as he looks at his son and says, “Goodnight, son.”

  Shane backs us up and around a bit and his father walks onward in the direction of the lobby. “Oh my God,” I say, letting Shane lead me into the elevator, burying my face in my hands, and turn around as he finishes punching in our floor to face me. “He just looked at you like you’d scored the prize. Like you’re the brother who got his secretary in bed, to use me for information.”

  He snags my hips and walks me to him, his back to the doors. “Which, of course, you know is not true.”

  “I do know, but that doesn’t change how naked I feel right now.” My fingers curl on his chest. “Really. Can this night end any time now?”

  “Not for a while, I’m afraid, but when it does, it’ll be us, in bed, preferably naked.”

  “Should we even be this close in an elevator? Or I guess we can, because it’s kudos to Shane for fucking the secretary.”

  “Emily—”

  “I know. I know it’s not you, I promise. That look your father gave you just got to me. Icing on the cake, or more nails on a chalkboard, or someone smacking bubblegum over and over.”

  “My father and bubblegum smacking,” he says, reaching up and covering my hands with his. “Those are two things I never thought I’d hear in the same sentence.”

  “I can’t imagine what it was like to grow up with that man,” I say, still fuming and feeling kind of dirty. “At least my father made me feel loved.” I grimace. “Until he decided to desert me. Maybe that’s why my brother is the way he is. He’s selfish like my father.”

  “Don’t give him that excuse. I sure as hell don’t give it to Derek. We all choose who we want to be in life.”

  “We don’t choose everything. Or maybe we do.” The elevator dings and stops moving. “I could have stayed and faced this.”

  “I told you,” he says, lacing the fingers of one of his hands with mine. “Trust your instincts.” He leads me into the hallway.

  “They told me to run.”

  “Then you needed to run.”

  At the expense of law school, I think, but I shove that
thought aside before it starts shredding me to pieces all over again. “I’m pretty sure I’m fired,” I say, as we reach his apartment.

  “He won’t fire you,” he says. “He’ll make you a player in our game. He’ll taunt Derek about me winning over his secretary, not him.”

  We reach the door and he opens it, and his past warnings about Derek come to mind. “Isn’t that trouble?” I ask, walking inside and turning to wait on him. “Won’t he dig into my background?”

  “We’re going to clean up your background,” he says, shutting the door and motioning me toward the archway leading to the kitchen. “Let’s make coffee and talk.”

  “I’m too wired for coffee,” I say, walking with him, both of us claiming a spot at the rectangular bamboo island, facing each other. A million seconds seem to pass, the implications of this night, and all we have been and could be, expanding and shifting between us.

  “Shane,” I whisper, because I do not even know what it is I want to say, just that I need to say it.

  “Emily,” he replies, his voice a low, velvety rasp. “Reagan. Whoever you are. I’m not deserting you.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “Never. Things happen for a reason. I believe that, and you belong with me now.”

  “If that is true, then I believe I’m supposed to help you fight for the company and win. And it gives me a purpose I need right now. So if you’re going to tell me I can’t work for Brandon Enterprises—”

  “I’m not.”

  I blink in surprise. “You’re not?”

  “No. I’m not, because I cannot have you in my life and hide you from my family, but you are above sitting at my father’s door. Capable of so much more.”

  “I appreciate that, Shane, but it’s where I belong now. It’s where I can make a difference.”

  “Unfortunately, I have to let you win this battle at least for now, because we need to buy time to let Seth clean up your electronic records.”

  “Buy time how?”