Authors: Dee J. Adams
He looked scary as hell at the moment. His dark eyes blazed. Fierce. Unstoppable. And very ready to commit some unspeakable acts if she didn’t do something to change his mind. She needed to talk…so she tackled the subject that interested him most.
“I think I know where Maurice might’ to work foratlistenedve gone tonight,” she blurted.
His eyes narrowed. He scanned her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. His gaze lingered on her mouth and Jess bit her bottom lip, her nerves shot to hell and back. What if it wasn’t enough?
His nostrils flared, animalistic.
Though her insides quaked, she stayed outwardly calm. He wasn’t an animal and probably not insane. He was a man with a lot on his mind and she needed to treat him like a human being, something he probably wasn’t used to in prison. Mostly, she needed to get his mind focused on something other than her body. To do that she had to make him see her as a person, not an object.
“If we’re going to find Maurice, I should know your name,” she said, trying to put some oomph behind her words. The stronger she sounded the less likely he was to think he could roll over her.
Yeah, right. She may as well have been a leaf on the road and he was the Tuesday street-cleaner. He could blow through her in a matter of seconds. He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“I guess you don’t have to give me your real name,” she offered. “But I should call you something. I can’t just say, ‘hey you.’” Long, tense seconds ticked by. She’d stared down her brothers before, but it had never been anything like this. They’d mostly conceded defeat, whether because she was the big sister or they didn’t want to face the wrath of their mother, Jess didn’t know. But holding her own with this man scared the hell out her. Especially the way his gaze drilled into hers as if he hadn’t yet decided if she was dinner…or dessert.
Finally, anger ebbed from his eyes until he blinked away any emotion at all. “Tanner,” he mumbled.
Relief whistled through her. Progress.
Tanner. His first name or last? It didn’t matter. “It fits you,” she said softly. She’d never met a Tanner before, but this man wore his name well. Strong, Male. Competent and in charge. Clearly he wasn’t going to divulge another name, but she’d only given one, too, so fair was fair. Not that this situation seemed remotely fair.
“Where is he?” Tanner asked.
Maurice. He wanted Maurice tonight. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Just because he’d drawn blood didn’t mean he was done for the night…especially since the blood was hers. But her bait had worked. Finding Maurice would get her out of this hotel room. Then she’d find a way to get away from this man permanently.
“He’s probably at his Malibu house,” Jess answered. That’s where he’d run to after every incident…and lately there had been several. Maybe she could ditch Tanner there. Maurice always had a couple of “guys” around. Jess had no clue what they did for a living besides mooch off Maurice. More recently he’d surrounded himself with security. If she could get to him, she’d be okay. Tanner didn’t stand a chance against five to one odds.
Tanner snatched a pad of paper and pen from the scratched up desk and shoved it in front of her. “Write down the address and placed a pack sat and directions,” he ordered.
Not likely. Jess didn’t take either item. “So you can go by yourself and kill him? Hell no,” she snapped. “I told you, I need him alive. I’ll show you how to get there.”
His nostrils flared again and Jess got the impression he didn’t like obeying orders. Especially from someone half his size. God, he really was a giant. Huge shoulders and trim waist. Long muscular legs that filled out his dark jeans to perfection. How ironic that God could create something so ruggedly beautiful on the outside, but mess up so drastically beneath the surface.
“How far is Malibu from here?” he asked.
So he wasn’t a Los Angeles native. That worked to her advantage. “Where is here?” she demanded. She had no idea where he’d brought her.
He swore under his breath. “Hollywood.”
“We can take Sunset and be there in forty minutes,” she told him. “Give or take a few.”
“I’ll need to blindfold you until we get a few miles away.”
Naturally. She shrugged and hid her excitement. More progress. “Why not. I’ve already been shot. A blindfold is a piece of cake.” He flinched, but it was quick and if she hadn’t been watching, she’d have missed it.
Fifteen minutes later, sitting shotgun, she was allowed to take off the bandana he’d wrapped around her eyes. She didn’t expect to be sitting in a Volvo of all things, and not a sporty one, but a family car. Her mother drove a car like this. A 740 GLE family wagon.
Jess had a sudden flash of memory: her mother driving while Jess sat in the passenger seat, her four little brothers crammed into the back, all fighting over water guns and homemade sling shots. The noise had been deafening, but her mother had been calm and collected. How had her mother stayed so relaxed during the chaos? Jess never figured it out, but at the moment she wanted nothing more than to have inherited her mother’s genes.
“Nice wheels,” she joked. “Did you get to drive the prison soccer team?”
His deadly glare pierced her before focusing back on the road.
Dumb thing to say, especially to a man just out of prison. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I get nervous traveling with…” Ex-cons. But she didn’t say it.
Jess chose to look at the bright side. She needed to talk to Maurice and maybe Tanner’s gun would help her get what she needed. Then she’d find a way to save Maurice’s sorry ass before Tanner really killed him. There seemed to be some circularity to the evening. Tanner could help her with Maurice, Maurice could help her with her family and she could help Maurice with Tanner. A nice, neat package.
Ha.
What a surreal thought. That Tanner might actually kill Maurice if/when he found him. Looking at Tanner’s stone-cold face, mostly hidden in shadows, she doubted she’d be able to stop him from doing anything he wanted. H a spectacular view of the or behind er shoulder throbbed as if to agree with the assessment. Maybe she couldn’t stop him, but Maurice’s security team could.
“How much time do you need with Juneau before he’s mine?”
Holy jeez! What a question. And he’d stated it so calmly. As if taking someone’s life was just another errand in a long day. Of course, if Tanner thought to ask, maybe he had the inclination to negotiate. Maurice had better hope so. So, the time she needed with Maurice depended on how seriously he took the situation. “I don’t know.”
“Let me rephrase,” he said. “
What
do you need from Juneau before he’s mine?” The certainty in Tanner’s voice freaked her out. He didn’t strike her as a man who killed on a regular basis, yet he sure talked like it. What if that was why he’d been in prison? What if he’d killed multiple people? What if Maurice’s security couldn’t stop him? Bad thought. Because maybe he planned on taking her to Maurice and killing her there, making it seem like some type of work related incident.
Crazy Assistant Attacks Boss And Takes Her Own Life.
Story at eleven. Yikes.
“Did you not understand my question?” he said. “What do you need with Juneau?”
Jess swallowed. This guy wasn’t long on patience. Maybe after spending years in prison, his patience had evaporated. If he’d had any to begin with. “Money. I need money.” A whole hell of a lot of money.
Tanner glanced at her again, but this time with assessing eyes. He hadn’t expected that answer. Good. She wanted to surprise him. Wanted him to know she wasn’t a wimp who crumbled at the littlest thing…well most of the time. Most of the time she handled a crisis with calm rational thinking. But her idea of a crisis was a cameraman calling in with car trouble and finding a replacement ASAP. Or making sure the location permits were in order or that a fire marshal was present when incendiary devices were used on the set.
“How much money do you need?” he asked.
Would it matter if she told him? If he knew how much, he might actually spare Maurice, especially if he thought he could get a fraction of that amount for himself.
Jess took a deep breath. “Eight million dollars.”
Tanner jerked his head and looked at her. A car horn blared and he quickly corrected the car. “Eight mil.” He whistled. “What’s a little thing like you going to do with eight million dollars?”
Save her family, but that was none of his business. She’d been warned not to tell a soul and she wouldn’t. Not if it meant their lives.
“What does anyone do with that kind of money?” She tried to sound casual, but sounded ridiculous even to herself.
“Depends on who you are,” Tanner said. He gave her another hard glare. “Who are you, Jess-Jessie?”
He was mocking her now? “It wasn’t enough that you shot me, now you have to make fun of me too?” It was something her brothers would do, but s gesturing to her.t him he didn’t get any type of brotherly vibe from Tanner. He had her on edge…made her angry. Worse than those two things, he made her itchy. Itchy in a way she couldn’t put a finger on. She held back the urge to squirm in her seat.
“I told you,” she said, finally answering his question. “I’m his assistant.” And someone in a boatload of trouble.
____________
For the hundredth time, Jay St. John surveyed the unfinished basement where his wife and four sons had been tied—and trapped—for the last twenty-four hours. The cement walls had no windows and only one door led to a short hallway and stairs to the upper part of the house. A series of pipes ran horizontally against the walls several inches off the floor and that’s where the whole family had been handcuffed. No doubt about it, they were in a boatload of trouble. Trying to loosen the pipe that held him, Jay felt the bite of the handcuffs against his raw wrists and pain sizzled up his arms. The damn thing should give at some point.
His mind had been spinning for hours, trying to figure out who had abducted them and why. Originally, he’d suspected one of his angry clients. As a lawyer, he’d made enough enemies, people not happy with the job he did or a final verdict. But this had been pretty damn extreme. It was one thing to want to hurt
him
, but to grab almost his whole family? That didn’t make sense.
Terry shifted and brought his focus back to now. She’d finally fallen asleep an hour ago, her head in his lap. Her cuffs bound her to the same horizontal pipe. He itched to smooth her red hair away from her face, but the restraints made that impossible. From this vantage point, her black eye looked as if she’d gone a few rounds with a heavyweight champ. His sons had similar bruises. So did he. He couldn’t have been more proud of Terry, of the boys too. They’d all fought hard until the moment they realized the futility.
“She’ll be okay,” Eric, murmured, his voice low, but confident. “Remember when she joined that roller derby team a few years ago and got body-checked off the track? She had a huge shiner after that.”
Jay looked at his oldest son and forced a smile. The cut over Eric’s eyebrow had stopped bleeding, but the trail of blood still remained along his cheek. “Yeah. Good thing it was the end of the season and I convinced her to hang up her skates.”
He’d fallen in love with Terry because of her sass. Her attitude and energy drew him like flies to a picnic. She was the only woman he’d ever loved—high school sweethearts in fact—and he’d be the first to admit that their love had grown even stronger through their twenty-seven years together.
Eric stretched his long legs in front of him, rotated his shoulders as best he could and winced before a grim smile curved his lips. “I think the guy that surprised Mom at the door won’t ever have kids.”
“Yeah.” Jay grinned too, picturing Terry kneeing the stranger in the balls and slamming her purse against his head. He’d gone down quicker than a bowling ball in quicksand. At that point the house had been full of men. It had taken five of them to bring down all the St. Johns. It private investigator. mt him would’ve taken more if they hadn’t picked them off one and two at a time, waiting as everyone got home. But Terry had been just as awesome as the boys, fighting for her family, for herself. Right up until one of the men slammed his fist in her face and she’d crumbled to the floor in a heap. Jay’s smile faded and he opened his eyes to banish the memory.
“I hope Jess is okay. You think they plan on bringing her here too?” Eric asked.
“No.” Jay shook his head. He’d been considering that idea. “I think we’re leverage. I don’t know who’s taken us, but the longer I mull it over, the more I think Jess is involved. She’s the only one
not
here.” Once the goons at the house had Terry and the boys, they’d hit the road with six of the St. Johns’ in two different vans and a squeal of tires. They would’ve snagged Jess if they’d wanted everyone, which told him she was being used.
But why and by whom? Who did Jess know who would put all of them in this kind of danger? Only one name came to mind: Maurice Juneau, her boss. Jay had told Jess years ago, when she went to work for the man, that he was trouble. He didn’t have solid proof, but he’d worked for Juneau himself long before that and the experience had inspired Jay to shift his career.
Instead of staying in private practice and making money hand over fist, Jay took a job in the public defender’s office for a fraction of the salary. Life changed. The household budget got tighter and raising five kids suddenly became a lot harder. Terry took a job as a teacher at the kids’ private school and the reduction in tuition was the only reason the kids stayed enrolled.