Taking Control (Kerr Chronicles #2)(70)
Author: Jen Frederick

She scoffs. “You know why. We have no money. We live the way we do on credit, and now that Richard is humiliated and ruined the credit won’t be extended. I’m not cut out for a life of menial shop girl labor.”

“With your connections, you could probably have run a charitable organization. That’s hardly menial shop girl work.”

Before she has time to answer, we pull up to a five-story limestone townhome. The Howe residence, I presume. “Nice place you have here.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because Cecilia reaches out and slaps me across the face with the gun in her hand. My head hits the window. My vision is blurred, and when the door opens and Travis, a big brute, pulls me out, I’m not ready. I struggle, but Travis is too big for me. His arms band around my side, and I’m carried down into the basement.

I catch glimpses of shelving, carpet, and then I’m shoved into a wine cellar. Travis drops me into the corner, and Cecilia follows behind. The door shuts and it’s just Cecilia and me. In my struggle with Travis, I still manage to dial Ian’s phone. I don’t know if I still have a signal down here. I can only pray it connects.

IAN

WHEN I STEP INTO MY office suite, Malcolm Hedder is sitting in the waiting area looking like he went a few rounds down at the gym with some bruiser and lost. Rose raises both eyebrows in helpless chagrin.

“He wouldn’t leave.”

“Of course not.” I open the door to the inner sanctum. “Come on, then.”

He walks gingerly toward me. The surface bruises must be matched by others less visible. Or maybe he’s faking to make me feel sympathetic.

I drop into my chair and gesture for him to take a seat. He does, lowering himself slowly into the chair that I f**ked Tiny on. I get a juvenile sense of satisfaction over that.

“Are you here to beg for mercy? You’ve timed it right.” I spread my arms wide. “I’m feeling benevolent.”

Malcolm scowls at me. “He’s is gone. I told him to leave.”

“Him being Mitch?” I ask, lowering my arms to the desk.

“Who else?”

“Was it you or your father who hired the attack on me?”

“Neither.” He looks at me with undisguised surprise. I figured it was Richard, but it didn’t hurt to ask questions when the opportunity arose. “Why would you suspect me?”

“I could say because it’s in your nature to want dangerous things. Like your sister. You did try to obtain my signature on an unsavory and unenforceable contract for services in the hopes of blackmail. But the real reason I suspected you is because you love her and you didn’t realize this until she fell in love with me. Pretty clichéd,” I mock. “Wanting what you can’t have.”

He laughs then, a hollow, aching sound, and I feel almost sorry for him. Almost. “Yeah, like a sister.”

“You love her,” I repeat.

His face falls, and as if the effort of denying himself is too strong or he’s just relieved to finally say it, he admits, “I love her.”

“I’m not unsympathetic. I’m sure I would be a broken and angry man if I had as many opportunities as you did to share this with her and didn’t, but she’s mine now. And I’ll do everything I can to protect her, even if that means limiting your contact with her. Tell me why you believe your father is gone?”

“Because I told him to go. There wasn’t any point in him hanging around.”

“I’m sorry you have shitty parents. It happens to the best of us.” It’s the most comfort I can offer.

“Maybe. Anyway, I’ll keep him out of your hair as much as I can.”

“Are you blackmailing him?” Because if he pays his father off once, he’ll have to continue to pay, and the price will go up until Malcolm can’t meet it. So clearly, Malcolm must have something to hold over his father’s head that’s more powerful than money. I can’t imagine—no, I don’t want to imagine—what that might be.

He gives me a short nod. “But I’m not telling you what I’m holding over his head, and you won’t find out—not with an army of investigators.”

“Fair enough. But if he comes calling again, all bets are off.” There’s never any peaceful end to blackmail. Why Malcolm hasn’t learned this yet is a surprise to me. In some ways, he’s almost as innocent as his sister, despite his criminal activities and propensity to f**k his stable of hookers.

“Did you get Sophie’s things from him? Tiny will want them.”

“There isn’t anything. It was all a story designed to lure Tiny into his web and then get money from you.”

“Goddammit.” I sigh. The last thing I want to do is inflict more pain on Tiny as a result of her mother’s death.

“I’ll tell her, though,” Malcolm so generously offers.

“With me.”

“What is this? Fucking supervised visitation?” he scoffs.

“Call it whatever you want, but you don’t get to see her without me being present. Ever,” I reply evenly.

“She’s my sister,” he protests.

“Stepsister,” I correct. “And you don’t have brotherly feelings toward her.” At his mulish expression, I continue, “Look at it from my point of view. Would you ever permit a man who loved your woman within ten feet of her alone? No. I can see by your face you wouldn’t. She was never a Hedder. She belonged to Sophie and now me. She’ll be a Kerr soon, and you can either be part of that world where she stands beside me and sleeps with me, or you can be on the outside. Take whatever path you want.”

I stand up. Our meeting is over. Hedder rises and lumbers after me to the door. As he exits, I call after him. “She cares for you. Don’t shut her out. You’ll regret that.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t respond.

“No more phone calls,” I instruct Rose. “I’m not getting anything done.”

“Yes, sir.” She mock salutes me.

Before I can even close my office door, my cellphone rings. It’s Jake.

“Are you sitting down?”

Instantly I know it’s Tiny. “Where is she?”

“We don’t know.”

“What the f**k, Jake?” I explode. Racing to my desk, I fumble with the bottom drawer. Before he can say another word, my line beeps. It’s Tiny.

“Thank God,” I say, but she starts speaking over me, and I realize she isn’t talking to me at all.