The Arrangement (The Blankenships Book 9) (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

There was part of him that still loved seeing the way that Zoey would blush when faced with something unexpected. It started low on her chest and crept up her neck until her cheeks were aflame with color. It was, he imagined, part of why he’d been playing the dominant so hard in bed this past week; it was one of the few things that could break through the wall of—God, he had no idea how to describe it. Grief? Numbness? Depression? All of the words seemed to apply. He wished he’d been able to keep the appointment with his therapist. He’d thought more than once of finding a quiet spot to call, but he wasn’t sure how to explain to Zoey what he’d needed. He’d been vague about his past on purpose.

It was almost funny. If one of his friends had been explaining that they were ashamed about going to therapy, he would have explained that it was the new millennium, that it was good, that everyone needed an outside perspective. That no one gave diabetics crap about needing insulin, and mental health conditions were exactly the same. But when it came to himself, the sense of shame he felt even contemplating it was deep and thick.

They’d screwed again in the shower, and he’d loved that she trusted him enough to let him comb conditioner through her curls and run his fingers through it, taking out the tangles that he’d put there. But he loved the way she blushed when they walked out into the suite’s living area to find Zhu sitting quietly in the corner of a couch.

She was covered, wrapped up demurely in a cotton robe, though he was sure she’d consider herself indecent. He had a towel wrapped low around his hips, beads of water still along his torso. Zoey froze for a moment; he placed a hand on the small of her back, half comfort and half guidance into the room. He wasn’t going to let Zhu undermine his small power in this situation by showing fear. Yes, he was now the only controlling interest in AEGIS, but Zhu had a lot of cards in his hand. Zhu wanted something that he could provide, but that was no guarantee that the man actually meant to help them. He was their best bet, but that didn’t mean he owned them. It couldn’t. Alex had had more than enough of that.

He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss behind Zoey’s ear. “Go ahead and get dressed, then come back if you’re comfortable.”

She nodded, giving him a grateful glance, and then stepped past Zhu on the couch, heading towards the bedroom area.

Alex watched her go, appreciating the soft sway of her body. He was oddly proud of the fact that she didn’t scurry or rush to get away from the two of them; she just walked, her head high and her back straight. The thought,
that’s my girl,
wandered through his mind and made him smile.

He sat on the couch in his towel, keeping his body as carefully aligned as if he’d been wearing a business suit to match Zhu’s. Zhu was watching him with dark eyes that sparkled with cold amusement. “My apologies,” Zhu said, his voice as crisp as his suit. “I had assumed that by this hour, you would be dressed.”

Alex resisted the urge to laugh. It was a fascinating thing, how the man could make an apology into an insult. He had to laugh, because he couldn’t afford to be insulted. “I understand,” Alex said. “And if I had known you were going to be visiting us, I certainly would have made sure to be more… presentable. What can I do for you, Mr. Zhu?”

Zhu smiled, ever so slightly. “I wanted to let you know that the papers had been arranged. You will return to New York tomorrow morning.”

Alex forced himself not to tap his knee with irritation. Zhu could have easily conveyed that information, as well as itineraries, through the shiny new cellphones he and Zoey had been given. Papers could have been delivered through a courier. There was more, but the soft gaze on Zhu’s face didn’t inspire Alex to believe that whatever other information the man had would be forthcoming quickly.

He decided to wait Zhu out and patiently sat in silence for several minutes. Zoey came back, dressed in slim, fluidly moving pants and a fitted T-shirt, and sat next to him on the couch. She left a finger’s breadth of space between them, but it was less than she would have left just a few weeks ago. It was something. It was, really, quite a lot.

Zoey was the one who broke the silence. “So what can we do for you, Mr. Zhu?”

“Nicholas, please,” he said, inclining his head in her direction. “I trust you have enjoyed your stay here? Hong Kong has pleased you?”

“Deeply,” she replied. “I particularly enjoyed the Clock Tower. It was amazing to see one monument encompassing so much of what Hong Kong has been through in its history.”

Alex smothered the smile that wanted to push his lips up, and Zhu inclined his head again in acknowledgment of the point.

“I wanted to deliver the necessary papers personally,” Zhu said, “but I always wanted to share information I have learned about these men, Wes Black and Aaron Schwartz.”

Alex waited for the pain to come. These were the men who had killed his mother, who had engineered his sister’s death. But, no, the pain was one more thing trapped behind the wall, like love and lust and sensation. God, he was in rough shape. The only benefit was that he knew it. And there would be help on the horizon. “What have you learned?”

“Wes Black is dead,” Zhu said, his voice flat.

“You?” Zoey’s voice was abrupt, and Zhu gave her an ugly smile.

“No, Ms. Gardener,” he said, and the amusement shone through his words. “I would never have been so sloppy with the kill.”

“So then, you believe Aaron Schwartz to have been behind the other killings?”

Zhu shook his head, and Alex felt a cold smile stretching his lips. It felt strange, the expression spreading without the mirth behind it, but at the same moment, there was nothing else that he was able to offer. “I think perhaps that Aaron Schwartz may have been the mastermind, if it was not your mother.” Zhu inclined his head with a courtesy that conveyed, more than anything else could, what he thought of the odds of Schwartz masterminding anything. “But I feel confident that this Wes Black was the executioner. He made sure that the killings in London, in New York, could not be connected. Each time, a different, untraceable weapon. Each time, no connections that anyone other than the most dedicated observer would notice. And even those who are quite sure are unable to obtain any proof. If there is any, if anyone has casually left something out where it can be found, what you propose would not be so difficult.”

“And what do you propose? Leave for a non-extradition country and live the rest of my life on a beach while the man who murdered my mother and my sister lives free and clear, perhaps hurting more people?”

Zhu’s face was very still. Alex realized in that moment that he’d run headlong into a test, and he wasn’t sure which way to head to make sure that he stayed out of traps. “And which of those two things bothers you more?” Zhu asked. His gaze was light, but his words were not. His words were heavy and resonant, and Alex took a moment to consider his answer.

He had never been a particularly religious man, never lived in fear of God, but even if he could get Zoey to agree to leave behind everything and everyone she’d ever known and go to some country where the basic lawlessness meant that they would never be in danger from the American force of law, he knew that it was never that simple. Living in a lawless country meant different dangers, especially for a woman, and depending on where they were, for a Black man. If there really were beach front communities where the two of them could luxuriate for the rest of their lives without any possibility of getting caught, he didn’t know how to access them. He was sure that Philip had possessed off shore accounts, but he’d never created any. He was fairly sure that these lawless countries were a lot less tolerant of American refugees who turned up without free flowing cash reserves.

But regardless. If he turned up on that beach, and he was relaxing with Zoey, drinking something with an umbrella and enjoying the luxury of the world, how would he manage not to feel like the ghosts of his mother and sister were hovering over his shoulder every time he closed his eyes to relax in the sun?

How could he rest knowing that the man who’d killed them both, the man that Zhu believed had pulled the trigger, was out in the world, potentially hurting more people? Maybe hurting more children.

Either thought made him sick. “I don’t know which one would be worse,” he said, finally, and hoped that he was saying the right thing. “I couldn’t live with myself either way.”

Zhu’s lips bent ever so slightly at the corners. “An excellent answer, Mr. Blankenship,” Zhu said, with an ever so slight inclination of his head. “Time will tell, I suppose, if it is an honest one.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit and drew out a thick envelope. “Everything you need is here. I have funded an account which will see you back to the United States in a style that you should find acceptable. It should give you a few days in the city, as well, before you need to draw on your own funds. After that?” He made an enigmatic gesture, raising his hands ever so slightly to each side. “I hope that I will hear from you.”

It was a cold gesture from a man who had been cold for a very long time. Alex couldn’t fault him for it, not really. But he also couldn’t stop himself from asking the last question he had. “And what if I don’t survive my return?”

That didn’t even get an enigmatic shrug. “If you return, I have sufficient leverage to make sure that AEGIS moves in a direction that removes me from a conflict that I no longer wish to drive. If you do not return, the board will be in disarray after the loss of all the Blankenship heirs in such a short period of time. After a brief delay for grieving, I can decouple my company from yours and achieve the same result.”

“And you don’t believe that Mr. Tanaka will have anything to say about that?”

Zhu’s grin should have been fringed with icicles, but he didn’t speak. It was Zoey who shook her head.

“Mr. Tanaka won’t be saying anything, will he, Mr. Zhu?”

“Nicholas,” he said, without his eyes turning towards her. “Please.”

Zoey didn’t give, not a single inch. “Did you have him killed?”

The small man rolled his eyes. It was a disconcerting gesture to see in a middle aged man in an incredibly expensive business suit. “Please, Ms. Gardener. As if I would ever allow myself to be tied to such a thing.” He stood, rebuttoning his suit and nodding at both of them. “Thank you for talking with me this afternoon, and thank you for allowing me to show you hospitality while you were in my country. I very much hope that we will speak again. I will await your call. And I trust that, once you are home, you will dispose of the things I have given you with all due speed. I will not allow myself to be connected to any of this.”

Alex couldn’t contain the small scoff. Zhu’s eyes blazed with displeasure.

“You may have nothing and no one left to lose, Mr. Blankenship,” Zhu said. “I don’t believe that is true for others in the room.”

The threat—because it absolutely was, there was no question in Alex’s mind about that—was more than clear. Zoey didn’t stiffen next to him, didn’t give any outward sign that Alex could feel as to any fear she might have felt. He loved her for that. Never let the predator see that you were afraid. His father had said that. He’d been proven right, whether Alex liked it or not.

He stood, still wearing nothing but the towel. It slipped ever so slightly on his hips, and for one moment, he thought it might come loose, leaving him facing Zhu wearing nothing at all. He refused to clutch for it, or show any sign of embarrassment. He just reached out his hand to shake. After a moment, Zhu took it.

In a movie, there would have been ominous music or a change in lighting. Hell, he had the feeling that he’d just made a deal with the devil, and that he’d end up regretting it later. He was quite sure that the moment deserved a crack of thunder threatening the landscape or at least dramatic mood lighting. Something. Not a dude in a towel hoping that he wasn’t about to flash a shooting star at a guy in a business suit.

The towel stayed in place, and Zhu left behind his envelope of papers and turned away.

Zoey sat still on the couch for a time. Alex searched for the right words to talk to her, tell her it was going to be all right, but they fell flat before he even spoke then. She wasn’t a woman who appreciated empty reassurances, and he wasn’t a man who enjoyed offering them.