AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You have to pack,” I say, “but we’ll get fresh pizza delivered to the hotel.”
“At this point, I’m so hungry, we’d better order an extra pizza.”
I don’t laugh. Food is serious business that hasn’t been property attended to today. “I do believe you’re right.” I lace the fingers of one of my hands with hers and lead her to her door. Once we’re there, I press my cheek to hers and whisper, “Assume we’re being recorded. Stick to topics like how hot you think I am until we get out of here.”
She laughs, a sweet, delicate feminine laugh, and damn if my cock doesn’t thicken in response. From a damn laugh. I’m in trouble with this woman, and if I’m wrong about her, if she’s aKnight to the core, I’m fucked in all kinds of new and unique ways.
Chapter twenty-seven
Jax
Once we’re inside Emma’s apartment, she hurries to her bedroom to pack. I scan the room, looking for signs of anything that might not be right. On the surface, everything appears as it was, but my skin is prickling, my nerves on edge. Nothing is fine about my gut feeling right now. It’s time to step things up on my end, and I decide my private investigator, a guy I met in college, isn’t the guy I need on this anymore. A reality he and I have discussed previously in relation to his limited resources, but that was fine then. I was just toeing the line, trying to decide how far I wanted to take this based on what we found. I’m done testing the waters. I shoot him a text:I need to take this to another level. I need someone who can do that and handle undercover security in San Francisco and Maine. And wherever the hell any of this takes me. And I need them now.
He replies right away with a name and a number:Walker Security. They’re the best of the best and a large enough operation to meet your needs now. They have a San Francisco office. The guy I know over there, Rick Savage. He goes by Savage. Just be warned. He’s a big man and a big personality.
It's not a call I can make anywhere in this building. Not a call I can make with Emma present, but I don’t want to leave her alone or set her on edge. It’s also not a call I can put off. I’ll find a way and the time to get this done. I start with a text:This is Jax North. I need security and investigative work. I was referred to you by Cory Smitty, but I can’t talk on the phone right now. Can we meet tonight at my hotel?
Savage responds immediately:I live to serve you and destroy your enemies. Sure. What time can I serve you?
There’s that personality. I glance at my watch. It’s two o clock. No wonder Emma and I are both so damn hungry.I set the meeting for four in the hotel bar.
I step back into the apartment, lock the door, and head up the stairs to find Emma standing in front of a suitcase. “I have no idea what to pack for Maine. What’s the weather like? And no, I’m not saying I’m going for sure yet. I know that’s our plan, but there’s a lot of insanity going on right now. I just need to be ready if I decide I can break away from work.”
“I’m going to take you to Maine, if I have to kidnap you,” I say.
“That sounds very criminal of you.”
I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her. “I’m a criminal kind of guy, baby.” I kiss her neck and release her. “And since you’re going, pack for seventies this time of year, but it also gets chilly by the water which is where we’ll be. And this weekend is our Whiskey Harvest, which includes a casual and formal event.”
“Whiskey Harvest.” She frowns. “Do you harvest whiskey?”
I laugh. “No, but it’s something some marketing person came up with a decade ago and our clients love it. We always release a new whiskey and there are special edition bottles that we make only for this weekend.”
“That sounds fun but my packing just got more complicated.”
“We have some nice shops nearby. I’ll get you anything you’re missing.”
“You will not get me anything. I can pay my own way.” She doesn’t look at me and takes it one step further—she walks away and enters her closet.
Obviously, money is a sore spot for her and based on her father’s will, a weapon he used against her. A weapon I will never use against her. I follow her to the closet and find her staring down at the floor, no eyes on her clothing. “Emma,” I say softly.
She jerks around to face me, looking like a doe caught in headlights. “Sorry. I’m fighting a headache. I need food.”
I step into the closet with her and catch the fingers of both her hands with mine, the touch, like every touch with Emma, necessary in ways a touch has never been with another woman. I lean in close and whisper, “Money is power. I get that, but it’s only a weapon when used that way.” I lean back to look at her and risk the closet being one of the only safe places to talk. “I’ve used it that way. I’ll use it that way again, but that’s business. We arenotbusiness. It will never be that way between us and I’ll say more about that later when we have privacy.” I kiss her hand and because I don’t want her to feel as if she owes me anything, even a response, I exit the closet. As it is, I’m asking too much by asking her to help me, when helping me works against her family, but I have no choice. I have to find out what leverage her father had over my brother. Because he had some, and for all I know, her family has that leverage now, ready to use it against me or my other brother.
I walk to the chair where we’d slept last night and sit down, waiting in case she needs help with her bag. Emma exits the closet with an armful of clothes, her gaze reaching across the room to find mine, warmth in her stare. She’s pleased and this pleases me. More proof that I’m swimming in deep waters with this woman when I usually never even get in the damn water.
A few minutes later, she’s packed up and we head for the door. Once we’re outside in the hallway and she’s locking up, I realize that I haven’t called a locksmith. I’ll have Savage handle this if I hire him. I hope like hell I feel good enough about him to payroll him and his team.
My gut says that my presence here in the city, more specifically my presence here in the city with Emma, is someone’s trigger. And that’s a problem since I don’t know who’s holding the proverbial gun.
We reach the lobby quickly, each rolling a bag past security, and Jeff is back behind the counter, motioning to Emma. “Ms. Knight,” he calls out, rushing to catch us at the exit. “Has my supervisor contacted you?”
“Not yet,” Emma says. “You talked to him?”
“I did,” he replies. “That’s odd that he hasn’t contacted you. I’ll follow up. Again, I’m sorry for what happened. That’s unacceptable.”
“Who was the man behind the counter about half an hour ago?” I ask. “Was that your supervisor?”
