Blood Type (Page 62)

“There is more proof, Beckham. Felix confirmed that she was one of the Elle rebels. He said he had been in contact with her about the organization.”

Reyna’s mouth dropped open. Felix had told them that she was an Elle contact? How preposterous! If Felix was a rebel, then he was likely a horrible one. The only time she hadn’t seen him look completely drugged was at their very first introduction.

Beckham stood very still. He refused to look at her. “And where is Felix now to give this testimony?”

Cassandra glanced away from him. “He’s no longer with us.”

“He died in the fires,” Harrington confirmed.

Reyna gasped softly. She couldn’t believe he was one of the ones who had died. She didn’t even really know him and it was a tragedy.

“And when did he tell you this,” Beckham probed.

“Before he died.”

“So…we’re supposed to believe the word of a dead man?”

“What more proof would you like before you believe that she is working against us?” Rowland demanded.

Beckham shook his head in disgust. He was pissed. She could see it all over his face. He knew what was happening. Rowland was upset and had worked against him to get rid of Reyna. Perhaps he would even try to claim her as the prize. No…they couldn’t allow this.

“So, by questioning Reyna’s allegiance are you also questioning my allegiance?” he growled.

“I already said I trust you, Beckham,” Harrington said. The old man looked as if he wanted Beckham to believe him, but there was something hard and fierce in his eyes that said he would burn everyone to the ground before letting them beat him.

“I’ve done nothing but serve Visage and the company’s interests faithfully for years. I was one of the loudest voices for Visage in the early years. I helped the company get off its feet during the trying times during the initial wave of blood type matches. I’ve done everything for you, and now this?” he asked. “I vouch for Reyna, and since when is my word questioned?”

“I don’t question your loyalty, Beckham,” Harrington said. “You know I think of you as a son. You’ve proven yourself, but the evidence is incriminating and I won’t take the chance.”

Beckham laughed humorlessly. “A few pictures that you think match a website yet unconfirmed as an Elle sympathizer let alone part of Elle itself. No matching images, and I was there when they were all taken. Plus, the word of a dead man that Cassandra probably drained for fun.”

Cassandra tried to look indignant, but Reyna could see he had struck a chord.

“Don’t try to deny it,” Beckham said. “We all know it’s not the first time.”

Cassandra shrugged her lithe shoulders and sat back down demurely.

“Your evidence is circumstantial at best. Let’s lay it out there and say what all this is really about. Rowland is pissed that I kept him from Reyna at the Vault and then beat him at his own game. He thought he could get back at me through Reyna, through this ruse, and he used you, Harrington, to do it. Let’s discuss his actions if we’re going to throw out accusations.”

Rowland’s eyes blazed. She could see that he knew he was losing ground with Beckham’s speech. “I would never come forth without a real belief that she has been working against us.”

“You’re a liar and a cheat!” Beckham cried. “You wanted to sleep with her and you wanted to drink from her, but she’s not your Permanent. She’s not a fucking toy or a goddamn pet! She’s a human being, and she’s mine.”

Everyone in the room was silent after Beckham’s declaration. Reyna’s heart was beating wildly in her chest. He had just defended her to everyone.

“Rowland is all of this true?” Harrington finally asked. Rowland’s silence was answer enough. “I don’t want fighting within my upper rank. We should be pleased with the results of today, not bickering over a girl. Unless you can bring forward more evidence, I’ll have to defer to Beckham’s judgment, as I always do. I just want to find a matching blood type and get my full strength back. Then we can really move forward with our plans.”

Harrington gave Reyna a deadly look and it took everything in her to hold that gaze. Even though she was safe for now…fear clawed at her.

Chapter 33

Reyna and Beckham left Harrington’s office. Reyna had her camera back in hand. She had retrieved it from a sullen Rowland. The look on his face told her that this wasn’t over. This was just round one.

They made it down the elevators and back outside in complete silence. Reyna held the camera close to her chest as Beckham’s driver appeared. She stepped inside first and Beckham followed. The car started on the familiar drive back to Beckham’s penthouse, and Reyna released a big breath.

“That was awful,” she whispered.

Beckham nodded tensely. “It could have been so much worse.”

She agreed with that. Harrington’s trust of Beckham went so deep that he had let them go. Though she was sure he was going to have them both watched more closely. She couldn’t gallivant around at night anymore. Not that she was going to break the new curfew anyway.

Reyna felt as if she were coming down from a buzz. After the rally, the near-death encounter, and the accusations at Visage, she was drained. The only good part was that Beckham had chosen her and now they were going back to his place together…as a couple. It almost made everything else worth it.

Once they made it to his penthouse, Reyna finally let herself think about what this meant going forward. She was here now not as an employee or an investment. He wanted her here. It was that moment where she realized they had made it…now what?

“How are you feeling?” Beckham asked cautiously.

“Shaken up,” she admitted, “but I’m okay.”

“I’m really sorry that Rowland dragged you through all of that. I should have been paying more attention from the start. Then I would have noticed what his endgame was.”

“It’s really my fault. I should have told you when Rowland was advancing on me, then we wouldn’t be here and they never would have taken my camera.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. “I can’t believe he stole it at the restaurant, and I didn’t even know.”

“You were angry at me. It’s not your fault that he was trying to blame you,” Beckham told her.

“Well, I guess I should delete the website. It’s too risky at this point.” The thought of deleting it made her sick. She had put so much time and energy into that thing. The pictures would still be on her computer, but it was different. It didn’t seem to have as much life to her.

“No,” he said automatically. He reached forward and cupped her cheek. “If you delete it now, they’ll know that it was your website. I don’t want to do anything that might draw their attention. For now, the images are safe where they are. I programmed them so they are practically impenetrable.”

“Oh. Right. That makes sense.”

“You know I agree with your images, right?” he asked. His dark eyes were saying so much more than his words in that moment. She stopped fidgeting and got lost in their depths.

“You agree with them?” she whispered.

“Their message. I agree with the message you were trying to send. That there are people out there that need help. That equality is possible. We need to tackle the core issue of prejudice. That the rich sit on high when there are those that suffer. That was what I tried to capture in my work too.” He gestured to the framed pictures on the walls of the penthouse. “I could only hang these, but I think you can still see the influence in them.”