Expose (Billionaire Series) (14 page)

 

“Has he been captured?” someone called out.

 

“Yes, he was taken into custody a little under an hour ago,”
the policeman said. He could barely keep the grin off his face, and I was sure
that he would see a hefty bonus for today’s work. “His arrest prompted this
press conference – we wanted to bring this reassuring information to the public
as soon as it was possible to do so without risk of alerting the culprits.”

 

The story unfolded, and I listened, the relief soaking into
my brain bit by bit. It seemed almost too good to be true – not only had the
crime group been tied to the event of that afternoon, but the actual leader of
the crime group had been arrested and would be brought to justice for his
crimes.

 

It meant that Mathis was safe.

 

I could barely process the thought. As I listened to the
news, I heard that the rest of the crime group was going to be hunted down and
treated as terrorists – it seemed as if after their leader was arrested they
had scattered and were trying to escape custody. Since the word had already
spread, the police had decided to grab all the glory while they could and bask
in the success of arresting the key members.

 

It didn’t really matter, I thought. As long as Mathis was
unharmed, it was all okay. He would be safe now – and I would be free from the
invisible threat of this crime group too. I thought to the gun and money in my
closet. I’d send them back to Mathis first thing in the morning, whether I had
to send them to his office or his apartment. I wouldn’t need them anymore.

 

“What does that mean?” asked Sharon finally, breaking the
silence which had been thickening in the room. “Are you safe now? Is Mathis?”

 

“I guess so,” I said. I didn’t want my hopes to be raised,
and I couldn’t really decide what I should do, if anything.

 

“But it’s a good thing,” Sharon said.

 

“Yeah,” I echoed. “It’s a good thing.”

 

“You could look happier about it,” Sharon suggested.

 

“I don’t know, Shaz,” I said. “There are still so many
obstacles – all the police drama, my uncle, everything. I don’t know if this
will really make any difference.”

 

“Well, did you talk to Mathis?” she asked.

 

I shook my head. “I didn’t really get a chance to. He was
busy with other things.”

 

“Maybe he’ll call you?” Sharon suggested.

 

I shrugged, trying not to think about it – most likely
nothing had changed, since Mathis still didn’t want to go against my uncle’s
wishes, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself.

 

“Nothing else is going to happen, looks like,” I said,
referring to the smug policemen on the TV screen congratulating themselves for
the hundredth time.

 

“I’m tired of hearing about it anyway,” Sharon added.

 

As Sharon and I finally shut off the news and began
discussing whether we should rent a movie, her cell phone buzzed. She checked
it, and looked up at me nervously.

 

“It’s Ryan,” she said.

 

“Go on,” I told her. “You’re going to have to face him sooner
or later.”

 

She picked up, and I could hear Ryan’s anxious, raised voice
from my seat on the other side of the sofa.

 

“Sharon! Are you okay? I just saw on the news – why didn’t
you call me? I would have come and picked you up! Are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” Sharon assured him. “Amanda’s fine too. I’m over
at her place right now.”

 

“Good,” Ryan said. “Shaz, you should have called me right
away.”

 

“I didn’t want you to panic,” Sharon said. “It wasn’t a big
deal. Nobody was even hurt. It was just a man with a gun, and that’s hardly a
first-time occurrence.”

 

I watched them argue, and I felt a little bit wistful that
Sharon had someone to look out for her, even if she didn’t necessarily want or
need him to worry about her. I thought back to Mathis – although he’d asked if
I was okay, he hadn’t spent more than a few seconds with me before he went to
talk to security and ensure the safety of the politician. It could be read as
Mathis knowing I could care for myself, but that might just be blind optimism.

 

A stab of sadness went through me. I didn’t think I’d ever have
someone who looked out for me in that way. Mathis’ best answer for keeping me
safe was keeping me at arms’ length, whilst Ryan was currently trying to
convince Sharon to come home so he could see with his own two eyes that she
wasn’t hurt.

 

“I don’t want to leave Amanda all alone,” Sharon was saying.
“She was standing right next to the gunman and I think she needs some company
right now.”

 

“Tell her to come over too, then,” Ryan said. “I’m not going
to let this go, Shaz – I want you home now!”

 

“Fine,” Sharon sighed. “But I’m asking Amanda over too.”

 

She hung up the phone and rolled her eyes.

 

“He is so overprotective,” she said. “I have to go home or
he’ll probably gnaw his way through the tablecloth in anxiety.”

 

“That’s fine,” I said. I was tired anyway, and I thought that
perhaps it was best that I was left alone.

 

“Do you want to come over? It’ll be fine if you do,” Sharon
offered. “We could still rent that movie.”

 

“No, thanks,” I said. Even though Ryan was very nice, I’d
feel like an awkward third wheel getting in the way of their privacy. Besides,
I was sure that Ryan would want to hear the whole story all over again and I
didn’t want to rehash it.

 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you on your own.”

 

It was a kind thought, but it made me feel like a sad single
woman who had nobody else to worry about her. I thought again of Mathis and the
way he had held Kathryn. Why hadn’t he held me like that?

 

“I’m sure. Go and be with Ryan,” I said.

 

Sharon gave me a long hug. “If you need anything, just call,”
she said.

 

“I know.” My smile was starting to hurt, and I thought
longingly of my warm, comfy bed. I didn’t want to move for the rest of the
weekend. Too much had happened, and I just needed some time to work it all out
and decide where to go from here.

 

I helped Sharon get her things together and walked her to the
door. I opened it for her, and saw her give a start of surprise. I peered
around the door, my mouth fell open, and my eyes widened in disbelief.

 

Outside my little apartment, damp from the rain outside and
still clad in the same outfit he had been wearing at the car show was Mathis.
His tall figure filled my doorway and made my apartment seem tiny. His hand was
raised as if he had been about to knock.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re busy,” he said, turning to go.

 

“No!” Sharon said loudly. “I was just leaving. You go on in.
Bye, Amanda.”

 

As Mathis moved politely aside for her to get through, she
gave me an excited face from behind his back and mimed ‘call me!’ She
practically ran down the corridor.

Chapter
8

 

Her alarm had just
gone off when a text message from Philip came through. It was business rather
than pleasure, but it still gave her a thrill to see his name. He'd gotten a
confirmation email from the delivery service that the Carlisle files would be
in at eleven so he would be coming by to pick her up at ten. They'd pick up
brunch and stay at the office until they finished, then he would drive her
home. Part of her hoped that the driving home comment would be open to interpretation.

 

Jennifer whistled
to herself as she took her time getting ready. She dressed with extra care,
wanting to find the perfect balance of professionalism and sex appeal,
something different than her usual skirt and jacket, no matter how nice they looked
on her. She wanted something that reflected how wonderful she was feeling that
morning and reflected the new her, the strong, confident woman she was trying
to be.

 

By the time she
finally decided on a cute pale green sundress that she'd only worn a couple of
times, it was almost nine thirty. She could have sat inside to drink her
protein shake, but the sunshine had been calling her name since she'd first
looked outside and seen what an absolutely beautiful day it was. She didn't
want to waste a minute of it.

 

There was a bench
outside of the apartment building, perfectly situated to take advantage of both
sun and shade, and since it faced the street, she could keep an eye out for
Philip. Before heading out, she quickly packaged Brad's ring in a pre-stamped
box and wrote his address on the front. She'd drop it in the nearby post office
while waiting for Philip and be done with the whole thing. A clean slate for
her and Philip.

 

She was halfway
down the front steps when she saw him out of the corner of her eye. In all the
years she'd known him, she'd never seen Brad look so furious. She froze, eyes
wide.

 

What was he doing
here? Her heart began to pound as she frantically searched her mind for a way
to diffuse what she knew was going to be a volatile situation.

 

He was at the steps
before she was able to break free of the paralysis that had overcome her. Using
the placating tone she'd used during their years together, she spoke. “Brad, I
was just getting ready to drop this in the mail.” She held out the envelope.
“You didn't have to come all of the way over here just to get it.”

 

“That's not why I'm
here.” Brad's fingers closed around Jennifer's left wrist before she could get
away. She let out a pained cry as his grip tightened, the envelope falling from
her fingers onto the steps. He didn't even glance at it.

 

“Brad, let me go!”
Jennifer nearly fell as he pulled her down the last few steps. She struggled,
twisting her arm as she tried to loosen his grip. She didn't know what he was
planning to do, only that it couldn’t be anything good.

 

Brad stopped
suddenly and yanked her closer to him. “Knock it off!” He hissed and she could
smell the alcohol on his breath. “I want to talk to you. Stop being such a
bitch.”

 

Had he seriously
just called her a bitch for trying to get away from him? Jennifer's anger
suddenly overpowered her fear. She'd had enough. “You know what, Brad? Fuck
off. I'm done talking to you.”

 

“Wrong answer.”
Brad yanked Jennifer's arm, twisting it up behind her back at an angle painful
enough to make her cry out. “And don't even think about screaming. I'll break
your wrist before you get out half a sound. Got it?”

 

Jennifer nodded.
She was no match for Brad physically, not unless she could catch him off guard.
As much as she hated it, she knew she had to wait for the chance to gain the
upper hand. Instead of putting more than minimal effort into trying to get
away, she focused on paying attention to her surroundings as Brad practically
dragged her off to one side. In the background, she heard Brad muttering as
they walked.

 

“Who do you think
you are? Acting like you're better than me. As if anyone else would have you.
Stuck-up little bitch needs someone to teach her a lesson.”

 

The words rolled
off of Jennifer with an ease that surprised her, but she didn't dwell on it.
Now that she saw the narrow space between her apartment building and the one
next to it, she realized where Brad was taking them and knew that she had to
act before he got her in there. It was a dead-end barely three feet wide, and
the only way out would be past Brad. She wouldn't stand a chance against him in
such close quarters. Her only hope was something out in the open. Eighteen
months ago, at Rachel's insistence, Jennifer had joined her friend in a
self-defense class. She hadn't been as good as Rachel, but there was one
particular move that she'd learned well and she thought it might just work.

 

With just a few
feet left before she would find herself caught, Jennifer took a deep breath and
prayed that she could do this correctly. Before her nerves could get the better
of her, Jennifer let her muscle memory take over and she stopped, kicking her
right foot out behind her. She felt her sandal make contact and Brad let out a
stream of expletives, loosening his grip on her wrist.

 

“Bitch!” He snarled
as he shoved her.

 

Jennifer stumbled
back against the building, the impact knocking the wind out of her lungs. She
tried to push herself off of the wall but a sharp pain shot through her wrist
and shoulder. Her palm scraped against the rough brick as she tried to get her
feet back underneath her even as Brad limped towards her.

 

“You fucking c...”

 

He raised his hand
and Jennifer tensed, bracing herself for a blow.

 

A hand closed
around Brad's wrist and, as Brad was propelled away from Jennifer, she saw
Philip standing there, his eyes flashing. When Philip spoke, his voice was ice
cold and so dangerous that Jennifer shivered.

 

“If you ever lay a
hand on her again... no, if you ever come near her again, no lawyer in the city
will be able to get you out of the charges I'll have filed against you.”

 

Jennifer couldn't
take her eyes off of Philip, in complete shock over what had just happened. He
started to turn towards her when Brad rushed forward, head down, teeth bared.

 

“Philip!” She
called out a warning even as he reacted.

 

Her cry of alarm
died as Philip stepped aside and slammed his fists down on Brad's back. His
next series of moves were so quick that Jennifer barely registered them before
they were over. His right hand connected with Brad's jaw, his knee with Brad's
stomach. As the man dropped to the ground, Philip drew back his foot as if to
kick Brad, but paused as the other man made no move to defend himself.

 

“You're not even
worth it.” He spat out the words, a look of disgust on his face.

 

Jennifer took a
shaky step forward as Philip turned towards her leaving Brad lying—likely
unconscious— in the dirt. His expression instantly turned from one of anger to one
of concern. He crossed the distance between them in two long strides, his arms
automatically going out to her.

 

“Did he hurt you?”
Philip ran his hands over her hair and her face, his gaze searching her
features as if looking for something wrong with her.

 

“I'm okay,”
Jennifer hurried to assure him, all thoughts of her injured wrist and shoulder
banished by the thought that he'd been hurt. “Are
you
okay?”

 

“I'm fine,” he
dismissed the question as if it had no importance. “Are you sure you’re not
hurt?” He repeated.

 

His hands moved
down her arms and she winced as his hand touched her wrist. His face darkened
as he took her hand in his. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he ran his
fingers over her wrist, sending little tingles of electricity across her skin.

 

“Does that hurt?”

 

Jennifer let out a
shuddering breath. “N-nothing too serious.”

 

A small smile
played on Philip's lips, as if he knew exactly what his touch was doing to her.
Although, based on prior experiences, his insight didn't exactly surprise her.
His expression stayed serious as he began to manipulate her fingers, studying
her face to gauge her reactions. It wasn't until he started to move her wrist
that she sucked in a breath.

 

“We're going to the
doctor.”

 

“No,” Jennifer
started to protest. “I've already screwed up the beginning of our morning and
we have so much work to do...”

 

“Listen to me,”
Philip's voice was firm but held a tenderness that Jennifer hadn't heard
before. “You did nothing wrong. This was not your fault.” He apparently could
see that she was still skeptical because he bent his head and brushed his lips
against hers. “Have I ever lied to you?”

 

She shook her head.
Even when he'd hidden things from her, he'd never lied to her about them.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

She nodded.

 

“Then believe me
when I say that nothing that happened here was your fault.” While cradling
Jennifer's injured hand in his, Philip led her back to his car, stepping around
Brad without a second look. “And no arguing about the doctor. I'm not risking
you having serious damage to your wrist. There are too many fragile bones there
that could have been broken.” He gave her wink. “Gotta make sure you can still
type all of my reports, otherwise I'll have to do it myself.”

 

Jennifer smiled as
she slid into the passenger's seat. The dark cloud that had threatened to ruin
the day was beginning to pass. Now, if she could only get her hands to stop
shaking, she really would be fine. Neither one said much of anything until
Philip pulled into the parking lot of a very expensive-looking office that
Jennifer didn't recognize.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“Doctor Kevin
Dawson,” Philip got out of the car and jogged to the other side to open
Jennifer's door. “The best general practitioner in the state. Maybe the
country.”

 

“Just take me to
the ER, Philip. I can't afford this place.”

 

“You didn't
thoroughly read your contract did you?” Philip took Jennifer's uninjured hand
and began to walk towards the doors. “There is a clause in the contract of
every one of my employees. The company has an emergency fund specifically
designed to cover any and all circumstances deemed necessary by the CEO.” He
glanced down at Jennifer as he opened the door for her. “And before you argue
about me using it for you, know that this isn't the first time I've dipped into
it. Since it's been opened, I've paid legal fees where an employee was fighting
his abusive ex for custody of their three children, two medical procedures not
covered by the insurance company unless as a last resort, adoption fees for two
families, and six months' rent for a family that lost their home in a fire.”

 

“Wow,” Jennifer was
impressed.

 

“Does that mean
you're going to let Dr. Dawson take a look at your wrist and not fight me on
this?”

 

“Yes,” Jennifer
agreed nodding her head.

 

The doctor turned
out to be a middle-aged man with a brisk but polite bedside manner and it was
obvious from the way Philip spoke to him that he admired the doctor. Despite
not having an appointment and it not being a life-threatening emergency, he saw
Jennifer shortly after she arrived and had a diagnosis less than an hour later.
She didn't think she'd ever gone through a medical examination so quickly. To
Jennifer's relief, the injury was mild. The wrist was a sprain that would heal
with time and rest, and her shoulder would just be sore for a few days. The
doctor wrapped her wrist, gave her a prescription for pain meds if she needed
them and told her to keep her usage of that arm to a minimum.

 

“At least I still
have my right hand for note taking,” Jennifer quipped as she climbed back into
the car. “I can do all of the notes by hand today so we can see the results...”

 

“We're not going
back to the office,” Philip pulled the car out into traffic.

 

“Wait, why?”
Jennifer was startled by the statement. “Are the files somewhere else?”

 

“No,” Philip shook
his head. “The files are at the office by now, but I called Emma while you were
in with Dr. Dawson and told her that you'd been hurt and both of us would be
taking the day off.”

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