Next August (15 page)

“I don’t know.” I start to cry.

“It’s okay, baby.” He pulls me close. “We can try again later.”

“I’m exhausted,”I say between sobs.” Maybe I’m coming down with something. It’s not like me to cry.”

“The flu bug has been going around. How about I go tuck you in bed and have Stella bring you up some hot tea?”

I nod. My head hurts, and so does my heart. I don’t know why Tom won’t talk to August. To his own son. But he’ll talk to me. And August doesn’t even seem bothered by it. Men make no sense to me.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

August

After a week, Nash is finally starting to feel like her old self. She had a nasty case of the flu. I know she’s feeling better because she wakes me up by stroking me.

“Good morning. I’ve missed you.” She says as she runs her tongue along my ear.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” I hope her answer is yes because my cock is aching to be inside of her.

She climbs on top of me after lowering my shorts.” I’m more than ready. Besides, I want to take care of you, like you’ve taken care of me this week.” She kisses the tip of my cock.

She puts me in her mouth. She starts out slow and sweet, and her eyes get darker and darker with each suck. I breathe deeply and let her have her way. Just as I start to lose control she stops. She lifts her hips and slowly lowers herself onto my cock. She’s so tight and so wet. I watch, enthralled, as she makes love to me.

☀

After our shower, we enjoy a late breakfast together.” I need to go into the office today for a conference call.”

“Are you going to Seattle this week?” she asks.

“No.” I don’t offer any other explanation, and she doesn’t ask, but the truth is, I haven’t wanted to leave her. Wayne still hasn’t been able to figure out exactly how the intruder got into my house. I’m not leaving Nash alone in this place with only Stella and an apparently faulty security system to protect her. “I’ll be gone most of the day.”

“It’s okay. Anna and I had planned a Saturday shopping trip.”

I fish a credit card from my wallet.” Can you do me a favor and buy some sexy nightgowns?”

She shakes her head.” I have my own money, thank you very much. But I’ll see what I can come up with.” She hops down from the barstool and kisses my lips.

“You are one stubborn woman.”

“We’re not getting into this fight this morning. I feel great for the first time in a week. I am not starting off in an endless argument with you.” She grabs her purse. “An argument you know you’ll never win.”

I laugh. “I love you, Nash.”

She kisses me again.” Thank you for this morning.”

“What do you mean?”

She blushes. “You know. Letting me take charge. I know how hard it is for you to let me have control.”

I smack her on the ass. She laughs and rubs her bottom. It’s like a silent reminder between the two of us. I love how she dominated me this morning, but that’s not going to be the case very often. We both know who is in charge in the bedroom, and we both like it that way.

☀

The conference call lasts over two hours, and by the time I hang up, I’m annoyed and tired. The entire call focused on haggling over the salaries of a few of my international vice presidents of operations. If one gets a raise, another wants one. If one gets a new bonus structure, I’m supposed to give it to all of them. No matter what’s happening in the global markets. Then I had the board yammering away in the background. All this political maneuvering in my own company drives me nuts. I finally told them all I’d make the decisions myself, and they would be final, and I didn’t want to hear any more whining about it. Maybe not the most diplomatic approach, but I get things done.

I just want to get home to Nash. Everything feels simpler when I’m with her. As I stand to shove some papers and books into my briefcase, I notice a bulky envelope on my chair. I never sit while I’m on the phone— I pace around the room. So I didn’t see it until now. It’s addressed to me personally.

How weird,
I think. I wonder how it got here. Usually, my assistant goes through my correspondence, or at least lets me know if something like this shows up.

I rip open the package. A note and several photographs land on my desk. My stomach drops as I look at the pictures. Photos of my dad and Nashville, by the lake on my property. He’s in his wheelchair, and Nash appears to be talking to him. To my surprise, in one picture, his hand is in midair. He’s throwing bread to the ducks. Nash wasn’t imagining things. He is interactive.

I unfold the note with trembling hands. The handwriting is messy but perfectly legible.

I knew he was alive. You bastard. The two of you took too much from me. You WILL pay. You can keep your dirty money. It’s too late for that.

I shake the envelope, and the shreds of a torn up check float down onto the desk. Whoever wrote this was right—I was trying to buy them off. I recently sent money to the family of the “victim” in my dad’s second car accident, in the hope that they’d leave me, and hence Nash, alone.
I grab my hair and clench my teeth. Nash might not realize it, but she’s ruined everything. If this guy discloses those pictures, and the world realizes my father is still alive, I’ll be ruined.

I call Wayne, and I’m so agitated, I’m almost screaming into the phone. “I need my house on lock down. Nobody comes or goes without my knowledge. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Mr. Rylan.”

I tell him about the pictures.” You need to find out how this asshole is getting onto my property.”

“I’m working on a few leads, sir.”

I feel the urge to scream at him. How can he be so calm? I end the conversation before it can go south. The last thing I need is Wayne quitting on me. He’s having trouble with this conundrum, but I know he’s one of the best security professionals in the country. I call Nash. She’ll calm me down.

“Hey baby,” she says.

Unfortunately, her sweet voice doesn’t have the effect I’m hoping it will have. I’m too worked up about the potential disaster I have on my hands.” Why did you take my father outside the house?”

“Uh, hello to you, too. I took him outside for some fresh air. Once. What’s the big deal? And how do you know about it, anyway?”

“Someone took pictures of the two of you. Now there’s proof that my father is alive. Floating around God knows where. Probably on the Internet.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—“

“You took him outside without my permission!”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. You told me to take care of your father. So that’s what I did. The man needed a change of venue. It’s not good for anyone, being locked up in your castle day and night!”

“Guess what? He’s no longer your concern.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re firing me for taking your dad outside to get some fresh air?”

“You have no idea what you’ve done. The wrong people knowing that my father is alive could ruin me.”

“Well, maybe it’s time for you to face the music!”

“Why do you feel the need to fix things that aren’t broken? Everything was fine just as it was!”

“Your father feels the need to hide from you, he won’t communicate or even engage with anyone but me. He’s hiding out in plain sight. Inside his own body. And you think things were fine?” She’s yelling now, too.

“Did you ever stop to think that I don’t want the bastard to speak again? You have no idea how he treated me. I’m happier with this version of him.”

“August.” I can tell she’s trying to stay calm. “Your father loves you. I know he does.”

I feel like she’s talking to me as if I’m still eight years old. I don’t want to prove her right by having a complete temper tantrum, so I try to get a grip on my own emotions. “Look, we can talk about this when I get home. I need some time to cool off. No one is to leave the house until further notice.”

Silence.

“Do you understand me, Nash? I don’t want to fight you about this. I need you safe.”

“Yes. Of course. Your wish is my command.” She hangs up the phone.

I wonder if she’ll really stay put. Damn it. My mind goes into damage control mode. If this gets out, how am I going to spin the story? By the time my father had his stroke, his reputation was terrible. His own employees and board members hated him and had zero confidence in his abilities. I had to build my own reputation from the ground up and separate myself from him. Now everything I’ve worked for hangs in the balance. My heart knows it’s not Nash’s fault, but at the same time, I didn’t have these complications when I didn’t have anyone significant in my life. It just reminds me, I was a loner all those years for a reason.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Nashville

I stare at the phone after I hang up on August. What an asshole. All my efforts to heal the wounds between him and his father and all he cares about is protecting whatever business reputation he’s built for himself. Even if that reputation is based on lies and secrets. I feel my own heart breaking, but I know I can’t tie myself to someone who would make money more important than family. Even if his father was an asshole, I can’t ignore how August himself is behaving. It takes one to know one.

I ruminate as I pack some essentials. I’ll go to Anna’s again. I at least need some time to think, away from August. Anna herself will probably think I’m nuts. All this back and forth? It’s exhausting. I should have stayed away from him after I left him the first time. But when he showed up at my parents’ house, and he seemed so sincere…

A crash from upstairs distracts me. I walk to the hallway and listen, but I don’t hear anything else. Maybe I’m imaging things. I’m so distraught, and August’s paranoia is rubbing off on me. I start back to the bedroom but decide I should at least check on Tom. Maybe an aide knocked something over. Or maybe Tom himself was trying to move or needed something. I walk upstairs, and to my surprise, the door is wide open. August likes it to be shut, and the staff knows that.

I peer around the corner and into the room. The aide is laying on the floor, not moving. A man, dressed all in black, stands over Tom with a pillow pressed to his face. Tom’s arm flails in a weak attempt to push him off.

I run to the stranger and shove him. “Stop it!” I scream as I push him backward. He stumbles, probably out of surprise more than my great strength, and then grabs me. I struggle, and we both hit the ground. He pins my arms above my head.

“I could have killed him and walked out. Now I have to take care of you, too!”

The air is knocked out of me when Tom rolls off the bed and lands on the assailant, who is on top of me. Tom is dead weight. The man in black flails and rolls around, and as he pushes Tom off himself, I am able to squirm out from under him. I scramble to my feet, grab a bedside lamp, and knock the man upside the head with it. He falls to his knees, and I grab Tom. I try to drag him away. His eyes are on me, totally aware, and he’s moaning. “Go. Go,” he says.

“I’m not leaving you,” I say.

But the man in black is faster and stronger than me. As I try to drag Tom toward the door. He shoves me backward. I lose my grip on Tom’s wrists and slide across the floor on my butt. My tailbone explodes in pain. The man hits Tom in the head, three times, with the lamp. Blood flies across the room and hits the white sheets, the white walls, everything around us is red and white.

Tom’s body twitches and spasms, and I know what that means. The man turns toward me. I can clearly see his face—a scruffy beard, small, angry blue eyes. All I can think about it the fact that if he’s staring at me, and I know what he looks like, he’s not going to let me live to tell this tale.

He swings the lamp in my direction. Pain on the side of my head, and then the world goes dark.

August

Two hours later

I take some time to cool down, and the more I think about it, the worse I feel for yelling at Nash. She’s only been trying to help, and in the end, so what if people know about my dad? I’ve spent years building a reputation on my own merit. Maybe she’s right, and I have to put the past behind me and own my own reality. Nash really had no idea what was at stake, anyway. I told her no one could know about her work with my father, but I never explained what would probably happen if someone did find out. I never told her she shouldn’t take him outside. Honestly, I wouldn’t have thought to tell her that, because who would have believed she’d make so much progress with him anyway? That she’d get him to the point where he’d actually enjoy the sunshine, and feeding the damn ducks? I try to call her on the way home to apologize, but she doesn’t answer.

I pull up to the front gate, but the guard isn’t there. I buzz myself in and call Wayne at the same time.

“There’s no guard at the gate,” I say.

“I was just about to call you, sir. That guard—we just found out he’s connected to the family that of the young man that died in that accident. His brother and that young man were good friends. He must be letting people onto the property. He’s probably giving them information.”

“What the fuck,” I say. “Call 911. I have no idea what I’m walking into right now.”

“Sir—be careful—“

I hang up. All I can think about is Nashville, in that house, with some crazy person after her. I drive up to the house and jump out of my car. I keep a gun in a safe in the garage. I grip the loaded weapon in one sweaty hand as I open the back door to the kitchen. I hear a rustling noise, and moaning. Stella is gagged and tied to a chair. Her panicked eyes meet mine, and I put my finger to my lips to quiet her.

I pull the gag out of her mouth.” Where is Nash?” I whisper.

“I don’t know.” She’s crying. “I heard the struggle, but I haven’t heard anything in about an hour.”

I loosen her hands. “Wayne called 911. I want you to lock yourself in the pantry until they get here. I’m going upstairs to look for her.”

“Shouldn’t you wait for the police?”

“No. I might already be too late.” I shut the pantry door behind her.

I creep upstairs to our bedroom. There’s a suitcase on the bed, but there is no sign of Nash. I whisper her name as I check closets and under the bed. I check the guest room, and there’s nothing and no one in there. I’m terrified of what I’ll find in my father’s room.

The reality of the carnage is as bad as I expect. My father is dead, a pool of blood on the floor around his head. The aide is on the floor across the room. I check her pulse. She’s still breathing. No sign of Nash.

My heart is in my throat as I lean down to close my father’s eyes. They’re already fixed, staring at the ceiling. His mouth hangs open as if he’s finally about to speak to me after all these years. Something shiny in his hand catches my eye.

My heart stops. It’s Nash’s bracelet. I slip the bracelet into my pocket and call out to her, softly, even though I know she’s not here. I straighten up and call for her louder. Still no answer.

It’s my worst nightmare. He’s taken her. Where, or why, I have no idea. But she’s finally truly out of my control, and under the power of someone else. Someone whose intentions are terrible.

☀

Sirens announce the police’s arrival. They search the house, and then I join them at the police station. We spent five hours discussing the details of the intrusion. I don’t hold back—I tell them everything. Everything they could possibly need to know in order to find her.

When they finally have everything they need, I meet Wayne outside the station, beside my limo. “Tell me what you know,” I say to him.

“The guard—the one who knew the family—he’s been sneaking the father onto your property. The father of the guy who went over the bridge. They’ve been messing with the cameras, too.”

“How about the men that were tailing Nash? Did they see anything?”

“No. They’re tracking down that guard now to see what information we can get out of him.” Wayne eyeballs the police officers as they approach their cruisers. “We have ways to get information out of people. Our own ways. The police might be too squeamish, but I’m not, and neither are my men.”

“We have to find Nash.”

“If this guy wanted to kill her, at least right away, he would have left her there, dead. I think this is a mind game against you, sir.”

“I agree,” I say.

“Do you want me to notify the girl’s parents’ sir?”

“No. Let’s find her first.

☀

The guard lives thirty minutes outside of town, in a small rundown house surrounded by a rusty chain-link fence. There are a few houses around it, on a dead end street. I ask Wayne to have his men park a couple miles down the road and await my instructions. I want to check the place out first myself.

Fred pulls off on a side road and Wayne and I arm ourselves.” You stay in the front. I’ll go around to the back of the house.”

The backyard is in even worse shape than the front yard. The windows are broken, and trash and old tires and other car components dot the patchy dirt and grass that leads to a ramshackle shed. I crouch by the back door, listening for Wayne to knock out front. Someone scrabbles around inside the house, and the back door flies open. The guard sees me and my drawn weapon and stops with his hands in the air. Wayne walks up behind the guard and cocks his own gun beside the man’s head.

I creep in close to the man’s face. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know.” He looks terrified.

“You have to the count of five to tell me where she is, or my friend here is going to put a bullet in your head.”

“I swear I don’t know where he took her. He told me he wasn’t going to hurt anyone. He just wanted proof that your father was still alive.”

“He did more than get proof. He killed my father, injured an employee, and took my girlfriend hostage!So if I were you, I would start thinking real hard.”

“He has a cabin. A hunting cabin. It’s two hours northeast of here. Up in the mountains.”

Sirens peel out in the distance, and a cavalcade of police vehicles speeds down the dirt road. I see a few of the disheveled neighbors wondering their own patchy yards and peeking through mobile home windows. This is the most excitement they’ve had in years.

One of the officers comes around the house. His eyes widen when he sees me. “Lower your gun, Mr. Rylan.”

I follow his advice.

“We’re taking him into custody,” the cop says.

I lean into the guard’s ear.” If you want anyway out of this mess, you better tell me exactly where I can find this cabin.”

He whispers the address in my ear as the police cuff his hands behind his back.

☀

I have a hotspot in my limo, so we pull up a visual of the cabin and the surrounding area. It’s heavily wooded and very secluded.

“What do you want me to do about the media, sir? They’re already all over this. The Seattle office is in a frenzy. Three board members have already turned in their resignations. Northwest Industries and Cybertech have put their orders on hold.

I start to ask who quit the board, but honestly, I can probably guess. And who really cares, anyway, with Nash out there somewhere, in danger?” I can’t think about the business right now. Once I have Nash back, I can focus on all that.” I pause for a moment.” Where did they take my dad’s body?”

“He’s at the morgue, sir. You’ll have to go down there and ID him in order to get the body released.”

“How is the aide that was injured?”

“She took a good hit to the head, but she’ll be okay.”

“And Stella?” I rub my hand down my face.

“She’s shaken up, understandably, but not hurt. The guy obviously overpowered her. She didn’t have a chance.”

“Who roughs up a middle-aged housekeeper? And then my father… and Nash. I will fucking kill this asshole.”

“Sir, we should really let the police handle this.”

“I’m not waiting around for them to fuck this up. I can’t risk Nash.”

Fred interrupts.” We should be at the bottom of the mountain in ten minutes, sir. Do you want me to drive up?”

“No, park at the bottom. I want to surprise this mother fucker.” I grit my teeth. “Maybe he’s like me. Maybe he doesn’t like surprises, but he’s got one coming to him.”