Taking Control (Kerr Chronicles #2)(66)
Author: Jen Frederick

“A minute,” I tell Ross. He nods, his face alight with concern.

“Certainly, Mr. Kerr. Take all the time you need.”

I draw Tiny behind one of the pillars. We aren’t hidden, but it provides us a small measure of privacy. Sweeping my hands up to the bare flesh of her shoulders and down to the bracelet cuff, I try to rub some of the shock away.

“I would have told you before, but I wanted it to be a surprise. I see now that was a poor idea.”

“Months ago, Ian?” she says with a trembling voice.

“Months.” I nod. “I knew from the minute I saw you that I wanted you. If I had to buy my way into your heart, I would. It’s my flaw, you know. I need you. And now, since you’ve foolishly fallen for me, I thought to make the donation to honor your mother. Consider it a wedding gift.”

“Before my mother’s death?”

“Even before then, but I upped the donation and made the naming a condition of the gift after she passed.”

“I’m pretty angry with you right now,” she says. I brace myself, wondering how I’ll be able to talk or buy my way out of this. “Because I really, really want to reward you, and I know I’m going to have to wait.”

I exhale in relief. “This’ll be over in less than thirty minutes, and then we’ll be in the car and I’ll make sure you come twice before we’ve passed midtown.”

She laughs at this. “I might hold you to that.”

“Do. After this is all over, I’m going to need a challenge.” My smile fades then. “I’m sorry for tainting your night with the Howe business, though. I felt like this was our best chance, and I wanted to get it over with.”

“Don’t apologize.” She brushes my cheek. “I want this as much as you. And I know my mother is probably cheering you on right this minute.”

And what is there for me to do but kiss her until all her lipstick is smeared between us? Her mouth tastes like scotch and Tiny—a sweet, heady brew. Her lips are lush, ripe fruit that beg for my teeth, and her tongue is a swift, darting thing inciting lust with every caress.

A loud cough from Ross breaks us apart. Panting slightly, she points to my mouth. Whipping out my handkerchief, I wipe at my lips and cheek until she gives me a nod and wink of approval. Leaning forward I give her another kiss. After all, I’ve destroyed her lipstick already. There’s no point in restraint now.

“Kill him,” she whispers, and it’s with her bloodthirsty words in mind that I join Howe at the dais.

“Kind of you to join me,” Howe says tightly. “Hope this isn’t uncomfortable for you, old man.”

“Not at all. I’m still feeling spry, given that I haven’t even reached my mid-thirties yet. Are you feeling poorly? Perhaps Ross has a chair for you.” I start to raise my hand to gesture for Fairchild.

Howe tugs my arm down. He is a remarkably easy target. In my mind, he’s been built up as this soulless monster ravaging everyone around him, too dangerous for a child to attack. But I am not a child or even the orphaned teen I used to be.

“I’m fine.” He scowls and then at a signal from his father, smoothes his face into a placid expression. “Good thing you got your check in early. Wasn’t sure if we would be able to continue with the ceremony. Did this come straight from the Kerr Inc. coffers? What would your shareholders say to that?”

“Unlike you, Howe, I don’t need to dip into my shareholder funds. I have plenty of my own to draw from.”

“That old canard? Is that what your father told you? That I borrowed some funds from a few portfolios?”

“Not at all,” I counter smoothly. “I was thirteen when he died. It was you who admitted to your wrongdoing. Don’t you remember?”

He pales, and I forge on.

“He came to you with a request that you return some of the funds he had lent you to cover up your embezzlement. You refused. You told him that he of all people should know that the code of the street was to eat or be eaten and that he shouldn’t have let you gobble him up.” I stare at Howe steadily as he turns ghostly white. The lilies lining the atrium have more color. “Want to know how I know this?” I ask quietly.

It’s hard to say whether the movement of his head is a nod of affirmation or a negative shake, but I proceed on. “Because my father recorded it. I still have it.” I reach inside my jacket pocket. “Shall I play it for you?”

Howe reaches for my hand. “Stop.” His breath is labored and sweat dots his brow. “What do you want? You told me that my credit is no good. I assume you’ve bought up my debt. What is it that you want? For me to leave Tiny alone? Done.”

“What I want from you, Howe, is to admit your wrongdoing once and for all.” My words are barely above a whisper, but he hears every word. “Confess your sins here and now, and I’ll make it right for you.”

The buzz of the crowd has all but dissipated, but Howe doesn’t recognize this. He is too wrapped up in his own panic to be aware of his surroundings—including the fact that I don’t have a recorder.

He nods, slowly and jerkily. “Then all will be returned to the way it was?”

“Yes. All will be made right.”

“Wh-what specific sins?” He licks his lips.

“Why not start with my family? If we have time, you can recount any others you’ve done wrong.”

“I did turn your father away, but I want you to know I’ve regretted it.”

“Did you regret taking the money from him? Or allowing him to cover up your embezzlement? Or did you regret turning him away?”

“All of it. It’s been eating at me.” He thumps his chest.

“What about the people you stole money from? Do you regret that?”

“Y-yes.” When he doesn’t say anything further, I take a menacing step forward. He starts talking again. “I regret taking the money from my clients.”

“Is that why your father’s funds are so depleted now? Why he’s had to rely on his friends for so many big donations? Do they know he’s not matching them with his own funds because he’s covering up your mistakes?”

He shakes his head. “It’s an expensive lifestyle we lead.” He grabs for me, but I move away from him. I don’t want his filthy hands on me. He loses his balance and grabs the podium. “You know this.” He raises his voice even higher. “You know this!”