Sweet Seduction Stripped (9 page)

A visual I could do without, but thankfully because it was all spoken, my mind didn't file the imagery away as it would an actual picture or the written word. My shaking hand wrapped around the brutal marks he'd left on my neck, my blurry eyes held his accepting the challenge for what it was.

Escape tonight or he would make me pay. In his bed.

Fuck ASI and Eric Shaw. Fuck this city and the people harmed by Jaxon Harding. And, I'm going straight to hell anyway, fuck the last few months of my dear father's life.

I had to pray God would one day forgive me, because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to after tonight.

"Eat," Jaxon commanded, bringing my attention to the sandwiches and fruit juice Max had unearthed and placed on the bar top at my back. I hadn't seen the guy come back in the room, I had to assume he waited until Jaxon had finished his crazy caveman display before re-entering. Derek Marks would have been a big enough lesson on that front.

My eyes skipped over the still curled form of the lawyer on the ground, but I couldn't afford to get distracted now.

Escape was all I thought as I resumed my seat.

Escape was all I thought as I forced the cardboard-like tasteless sandwich down my throat.

Escape was all I thought as I followed it with the juice.

I could do this. I could wait until Jaxon was distracted and run. I would. I should have done it before, not let a three year on-line relationship with a man whose green eyes called to me change my mind.

Not let familial obligations complicate my decision.

Oh, fuck. My dad.

Guilt invaded me. Stole stealthily and corruptly into my mind. Washed away conviction, trampled on resolve, and left me confused yet again.

I'm not a bad person. I've just made bad choices. And now I was paying for my crimes.

Who would make Jaxon pay?

I watched as he organised someone to remove the broken form of his lawyer from the clubroom floor, as he directed the cleaning up of the man's blood, spit and tears. And I was ready for him when he returned to my side, anger still bubbling under his surface, lust a quick come-on away.

I blew out a measured breath and slipped down from the stool to walk the short distance towards him.

"I think I need to go home and get some rest," I suggested, hoping with all my might that I could really act.

"Baby," he chastised with a soft shake of his head. "I'm not letting you out of my sight. Every damn time I do, you get in trouble."

Yeah, I thought as much. He knew exactly where I'd been this morning. And suddenly it all felt impossible. Completely and utterly unavoidable.

Hopeless.

I was trapped with the devil's minion and his pitchfork was at my throat.

Jaxon grinned.
That
grin. A bubble of hysteria welled up my body, swelled in my chest and lodged in my windpipe. I couldn't breathe.

"It's all good, baby," Jaxon insisted, as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and started to lead me off the clubroom floor and out the back; towards his office where no one would interrupt him or be overly concerned if I screamed.

"Jaxon, I'm really not feeling good," I tried. The things you'll do and say to save your skin. It seemed a pretty pathetic attempt, those six words. But they were all I could manage.

"What are you so afraid of, Amber?" he asked, opening up the door to his office.

Sleek black, white and silver met my eyes. Sharp edged metal framed and glass topped furniture, with modern architecturally designed chairs. All of it a bold statement; a ruler's domain.

"The truth?" he whispered, leading me to a sofa, the only soft surface in the entire harsh looking room.

I sank into the piece with trepidation.

"Baby," he said on another laugh. His amusement at my predicament making the entire experience seem a little surreal. "I'm not the bad guy," he added, making me cock my head and stare at the lunatic warily.

He pulled up a chair and sat down in front of me, slightly elevated from my position, legs crossed, suit jacket straightened, a model of business perfection. A lion dressed up as a lamb.

I didn't trust him. I had no idea what he'd say or do next. I did not understand this man.

"Amber, it's not me you should be worried about," he said evenly. "I'm on the right side of the law."

The snort almost escaped before I could stop it. He truly believed this drivel. He really thought he wasn't doing a thing wrong.

"Baby," he said, leaning forward, making me sink further into the sofa as I cringed. "You got no reason to fear me, I'm the knight in shining armour here."

Bloody hell, I wasn't sure I could take much more of this.

"Now, your friends at that café you visited," he announced, finally laying his cards on the table.

Here we go, this was it. His threat to kill each and every one of them because I'd walked inside the shop's door.

"Now they're the ones breaking the law, Amber baby," he surprised the crap out of me by saying. "And I got the proof right here."

He reached over to his desk and spun the laptop sitting on it around, so the screen faced us both.

"Baby, they're the terrorists. And with my help the law's gonna bring them down."

I looked up at an image on the screen. An image, that once seen could never be forgotten. In it was Eric and another man I didn't recognise. Ric looked younger, buffer, and was covered in camouflage gear, top to bottom; fatigues and that muck they smear on their cheeks. As well as the red of blood.

And in his hand was a gun, muzzle flaring.

The guy he was firing at with his empty hands raised and fear in his eyes.

"Check it out," Jaxon instructed. Calm. Sure. Confident. "You know how to pull these things apart, that beautiful big brain of yours, baby. Take a look. Test it to see if it's a fake."

He was being too pushy. I already knew it wasn't a fake for that fact alone. But the need to verify was so great, I almost moved from my seat, went to the laptop, and started typing in a line of code currently streaming behind my closed eyelids.

I shook my head instead and said, "Who is he?"

The relief at my voice sounding steady and honest made it easier to breathe.

"His name is Eric Shaw and he works for Anscombe Securities and Investigations," Jaxon said, but the underlying rage in his words was too great to ignore.

He knew all right. He knew I'd been inside Sweet Seduction. And he knew who I had talked to for way too long.

"Is that meant to mean something to me?" I asked, purposely flicking my hair out of my eyes as though I was bored.

"Baby," he growled. "You're being played."

Of all the things Jaxon could have said that was not expected. I was being played by Ric.

The urge to laugh was compelling. Knowing it would not be approved of right now kept me silent and ensured my lips stayed pressed in a thin line.

"Fucking hell, Amber!" Jason exploded. "You think I don't know where you go, who you talk to, what you do?" His laugh was half crazed. "I own you, baby. Every inch of that motherfucking body and every thing it is capable of. Pleasing me. Sucking my cock, riding it, taking it. Giving me what I want and need. And that includes your quick mind and oh so clever fingers on a keyboard. You think I paid for that fancy arse degree for the hell of it? I have great plans for you, baby, and they do not include letting Nick Fucking Anscombe get his greedy fucking hands on you!"

Who the hell was Nick Anscombe?

"Now, get off that fucking luscious arse of yours and get over here, test this fucking image, and find out the truth."

"Why?" I found myself saying. "I believe you," I added, trying to think on the spot. "There's no need, Jax. I trust you. You say they're bad guys, then they're bad guys. What's to check?"

He was on me in an instant. I screamed, it surprised me so. He gripped my upper arm, hauled me off the couch and slammed my body down in the chair he'd been sitting on, directly in front of the laptop screen.

"Do it!" he growled in my ear, not releasing his grip. "I wanna watch as the truth slaps you in the fucking face."

My fingers trembled as I lifted them to the keyboard, my eyes soaking in every feature on Ric's face in the full screen image displayed before me. Anger, pain and regret. I shook my head. I didn't want this confirmed. It had to be Photoshopped. He may not have been grinning, but he sure as hell looked like he was about to kill a man.

Just like Jaxon.

I wasn't sure I could handle another shock as world altering as that. I'd shared my life with Jaxon, but it wasn't until that moment that I realised I'd shared my head with RiC3.1415.

And I was already beginning to share my heart with Eric Shaw.

I didn't want to do this, but Jaxon's hold was tightening, the blood being cut off to my right arm, and the knowledge he had a gun on his body and wasn't afraid to pull it, had me typing in the code, chewing on my bottom lip, while I prayed silently inside my head.

It took three minutes for the programme I'd written to run its course.

The result: The image was legitimate, not faked.

My Ric held a gun to someone's head. And fired off a round.

"You see, baby," Jaxon said softly, soothingly. His hand running down my hair, no longer gripping my upper arm. "He's a bad man. And so are the men he works for. It's my job to bring them in."

Bring them in, what strange phrasing. Eric had said bring him down. I'd have expected the same words from Jaxon.

"They've been running rampant in this city for too long, baby. Their time is coming to an end. And you're gonna help me. Help the cops, too. Bring this thing to its conclusion, like it should have been years ago now."

He was losing me. I couldn't think straight to save myself. Too much information. Too much
horrific
information. I wasn't sure I could take another hit just yet.

Jaxon leaned over and swiped the touch-pad, making the image on the screen disappear. If only I could do the same with my brain. Then he brought up another screen, with a series of balances and figures that I quickly recognised as a bank account. The name at the top said Anscombe Securities and Investigations.

"Now," he said, turning and resting his butt against the desk's surface, looking down with that darker blue in his eyes. I hated that shade. I longed for the pale blue I'd fallen for.

Or a vivid green.

No, that wouldn't do either now.

"Time for you to earn your keep," Jaxon added.

I looked up at him and then back at the screen, and felt my face blanch. He wanted me to steal their money. To wipe their bank account as easily as he'd wiped mine.

"I can't do this, Jaxon," I admitted. "I don't know these guys."

"You know 'em well enough to enter their bitch's café." I flinched at his crude words. Jaxon swore a lot, but I hadn't ever heard him call a woman a bitch before. "You know enough to share a drink with their IT man." Did he mean the coffee at Sweet Seduction or the beer at the Irish Pub? "You know enough that they're killers, baby. That they've been doing this for a while. Help the law, Amber. Sort this shit out."

"The law?" I demanded, pushing back from the desk and standing up. "What would you know about the right side of the law?"

I didn't see him shift. Like before, when he punched Derek Marks' nose in the club, the back of his hand hit my cheek before I registered it had moved. I spun around and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Why do you make me into this person, baby?" he cried, and through tear filled eyes I saw him pull at his hair as though in as much pain as me.

I clutched my throbbing cheek, panted through the ache, and stayed very, very still.

Jaxon started pacing, mumbling to himself, but I caught every word, so silently and fearfully I remained statue like on the floor.

"Been doing this shit too fucking long. I want it over. I want it done. Can't keep doing this. Can't keep hurting like this. Can't do it no more."

To my utter horror, I felt something within me ache for him. He seemed tormented. Truly worn down and wrung out.

But I couldn't make myself go to him. I could
not
do that.

He turned and spied me crouched on the carpet, my hand hiding the bruise that must have been already forming on my right cheek by now. He groaned, took a step forward, making me whimper and scrabble backwards, and then he was on his knees, his head in my lap, cheek to my stomach, arms wrapped securely around my waist.

"Baby, baby, baby. I'm so sorry, so sorry. I've been under so much stress. But we're almost there. It's almost over and I promise we'll get away after it's all done. Go some place hot and tropical and I'll be your cabana boy, shower you with treats, rub lotion all over your sexy as fuck body, be at your beck and call. I promise, baby. Just bear with me. A few more weeks and we'll ditch this place and start all over again. Fresh and clean and with a new life stretching out ahead of us, and with none of this filth at all."

There was so much to take from that long winded, desperate, frantic rumble of words that I didn't know where to start. He thought I'd stay after that? Even if I didn't know what he was capable of, I would
never
stick around a man who used his fists on the woman he supposedly loved.

But that was a bit of a moot point now, because I did know and I needed to get out.

Damn him. And damn RiC3.1415 being part of this world too.

But I didn't have a choice now. I needed an escape route and Ric would damn well provide it. He was the only chance my father had as well. Not Jaxon, the man I'd been sleeping with for over twenty months. Not his twisted perspective on the fucked up shit he'd been doing and why. Not his lies, but ASI's.

One devil worse than the other, but I would use them and lose them, and I would fucking survive.

"It's all right," I said, my voice scratchy, my tone nowhere near the convincing concern I'd been going for. I cleared my throat. "It's OK, Jax. We'll get through this." Much better, even if I felt sick to my stomach and dirty as hell touching the man.

"Baby, you're perfect. I knew that the moment I laid eyes on you up on that stage. Fucking perfect. But when I knew how clever you were, I lost my ever loving mind."

I wasn't clever enough to see any of this coming.

"And now you own my heart, Amber Lane," he went on. "You know that right, baby? You own my fucking heart and it bleeds for you. Every fucking day you do some fucked up shit, it bleeds out."

Not a lot to say to that. His voice was cracked with the emotion he felt. No words could soothe that ravaged pain.

"If you ever go near them again, I don't know what I'll do, baby. Please don't make us find out."

There wasn't enough room inside me for more fear. For more turmoil and emotional upheaval. I was spent. Exhausted. About to fracture into a million pieces. Code unravelling before my eyes.

"Say you won't," he pleaded. "Say you'll stay with me forever."

I nodded.

"Say it!" he growled, and that switch flicked just like that.

"I'll stay with you forever, Jax. I promise."

"That's it, baby," he purred, laying kisses above his earlier neck bruise as though he hadn't just had a near breakdown and slapped me senseless to the floor. "Now prove it," he added.

Prove it?

He pulled back, lifted me up in his arms with ease, and settled us into the chair before the laptop.

"Do your magic, baby, and I won't put a bomb in that cunt's little chocolate store."

He meant it. His words too even, too controlled,
too real
. He'd blow up Gen's café just to prove a point. And there was nothing left of the connection we'd once shared to believe he didn't have it in him.

He'd destroyed us as much as he was promising to destroy Sweet Seduction.

"Where do you want the money?" I said numbly.

"Nah, baby. You got it wrong. We're giving those arseholes a present. A gift, so to speak."

"A gift?"

"Yeah," he said with obvious satisfaction. "A gift from an old friend of mine."

He reached forward and brought up a second screen, another bank account, this time in the name of a company I didn't recognise: PaP Holdings. It meant nothing to me.

"How much?" I asked, just wanting to be done with this.

"Oh, I think the whole lot, don't you?"

I stared at the screen. There were several million dollars in there. In US currency. Not only did he want me to wipe out these PaP Holdings people, he wanted me to do it through international electronic borders, implicating ASI.

"Now," Jaxon said, rubbing his hands up and down my arms, tenderly. He laid a kiss on the back of my neck. "Do it so it can't be traced, baby. You can do that, right?"

"And if I can't?"

The rubbing stopped. He gripped my throat instead, pulled me flush against his chest, and tipped my head to the side so I could see his hard eyes.

"If it's detectable, we get to see a big boom."

I wanted to call his bluff, but I was certain he didn't have one.

This man was crazy, out of control, and extremely lethal. And I had shared my life with him once.

"Untraceable," I repeated.

"There's my girl," he whispered, dark satisfaction in his tone. He released his grip on my throat with a stroke of his fingers to soothe. It took everything in me not to shudder.

"It'll take a while," I murmured, starting to type on the keyboard, for now just useless code.

"How long?" he demanded.

"You want it done clever?"

"It's what I said, isn't it?"

"Then a couple of hours."

Silence. I could feel the tension throughout his entire body, the hardness of his thighs, the steel in his arms, the marble in his torso. Solid. Immovable. But a hair-trigger away from exploding.

"Do it!" he growled, lifting me off his lap and placing me back in the seat.

He moved around the desk and sat down. I'd been hoping for him to leave me alone in the room, but that would have been too convenient. My life was no longer a casual walk in the park

His eyes lifted to mine as he picked up the receiver on his desk and pressed a button. I half watched the screen as I entered more code, and checked the security on the two banks I'd be breaching, while I kept a wary eye on my foe.

"Bryan," he said into the mouthpiece. "Got a job for you." A pause followed as Bryan, who I could only think was the Bryan I knew in C&C IT, answered. "My office. Want you watching what Amber's doing. You might learn something."