Surviving Jordon Page 3

  Then the waitress stepped into our conversation. “Ready to order?”

  It was a welcome distraction. All this hero talk was making me uncomfortable.

  Jordan ordered the petite filet, and I settled on the T-bone. And once again, the edges blurred as I focused solely on her, whisked back to our solitude. It felt like we were letting the world disappear around us.

  Enough about me.

  “Tell me. How are you doing since the incident?”

  “There was no way I was going to remain a victim,” she confessed. I felt her strength and how she conquered her fears and she seized power—especially over me. “That’s not my style. You can choose to let the darkness in, but I chose to live in the light.”

  “I can see that.”

  Our plates were sat in front of us. We ate, but the conversation never lapsed. In fact, it grew. We shared our stories: her work and mine, where we lived, how we both lost the family we had. It was easy—too easy. We finished with a cup of coffee, sharing a piece of caramel praline cheesecake.

  “So good, it’s almost sinful,” she said between bites.

  The sighs that escaped her lips were my undoing.

  “My treat.” I quickly snagged the bill.

  “I invited you. If there’s a next time, it will be your turn.”

  An open invitation, clear as day. “Hand it over.”

  “Well, thank you.” I wasn’t thrilled about her paying, but I let it slide. If I was lucky, I’d return the favor. “I’ll escort you out.”

  Her combination of strength and vulnerability turned me on as much as her physical appearance. I walked her to her car, a black Mercedes which lit to life with the press of her fob.

  Whatever shred of decency I had faded as I drank her in. Her eyes locked on mine, and my eyes darkened, like a starving man. Kiss her, the devil said. With utter confusion came another voice. Not yet, warned my conscience.

  My silly fascination had become a force all its own. The light breeze was tossing her fiery red stands of hair across her face. I reached for a stray curl and rubbed the velvety texture between my fingers. It was soft to the touch, and the scent of something floral floated in the air, sweet and tempting.

  I leaned in, pressing one hand against the car. The evening’s light had vanished, yet the amber color still gleamed in her eyes, under the stars. My gaze drifted lower as I ran my thumb over her plump bottom lip, the color of honey. Should I? I lowered my head slowly, barely grazing her lips with mine.

  Her palms slid up my chest, twisting the fabric. Answering my question, my mouth fell on hers in a hungry kiss. My fingers griped her soft waves in my hand as I devoured her sweet mouth.

  With a thrill simmering below, she was well aware of her effect on me. The need to barge ahead was calling me, I had her pinned and helpless. But I knew what control meant, and how to holster it.

  I pulled back briefly, adding one last kiss. Yet, when I stepped back taking in the view. I witnessed a flash of regret. Then it disappeared instantly. When it came to relationships, I wasn’t in tune with the female psych’.

  I opened her door and marveled at her gracefulness. As her dress rose high on her bare thigh, I couldn’t look away. Our gaze locked, and the sweetest smile appeared on her face. “Goodnight.”

  Then the engine kicked over then slowly she rounded the corner and drove off into the night. I was left standing, knowing all the obstacles working against us.

  Circumstances being what they were, I was unsure about everything. I intentionally avoided this type of situation for well-founded reasons. But with one touch, she had lured out my emotions, setting off warning signals I knew all too well.

  I looked down and rubbed the back of my neck. I spent several moments reflecting, then came to the conclusion that I would be a fool if I let her go.

  Approaching the Escalade, I pushed away the doubts, avoiding any lingering concerns, and decided I wanted to see where this could go. My heart skipped a beat at the thought, a stark contrast of what my life has looked like for the past several years.

  My phone rang as I reached the highway. It was Flynn, so I picked up immediately.

  “Steel, something’s happened.” His voice was grim. “You need to get to Norman Software. It’s Travis.”

  “What’s happened?”

  A sick feeling rolled through my gut as I anticipated the worst.

  “He’s been killed.”

  I heard his bold words, but I couldn’t get my mind to stop spinning long enough to process them. Shock rippled through me. Not once had any man gone down under my watch. In war, I anticipated casualties, but not now. Not here. Not with this team.

  “What do we know?”

  “You need to see for yourself.”

  His ominous statement left me cold as my imagination spiraled downward. I sped away, pushing the limits of my Escalade as it roared under my command. I arrived to a screeching halt. My heart was beating hard and fast beneath my chest and sweat trailed down my spine as I reached the entrance where Flynn was waiting.

  He locked the door behind me and escorted me to the elevator. Once we reached the bottom floor, we had to take the stairs to reach the basement. I sensed the silent fury within him.

  I slowed to a steady pace when I saw my men’s hard expressions, all laced with horror and distress. As I tried to decipher what had happened, the men parted and I stepped into hell. The realization sent a shiver through my spine as I held back the roar of anger simmering inside of me.

  Travis lay on the floor of the elevator, side by side with his maintenance cart. His throat had been slashed.

  “Son of a bitch.” My breathing quickened at the sight.

  “You haven’t contacted the authorities?

  “Not yet. I want our team on it first.”

  I could see the flashes of light from the camera behind me.

  Focusing on the brutal weight of reality laid out before of my eyes, I didn’t have time to dwell on it, so my instincts took over.

  “Give me the facts.” I found myself unable to look away from the gruesome scene. “Do we have a time line?”

  “Recent. Two to four hours, if relying on rigor mortis. This particular elevator is reserved for staff only, and it’s the only one that reaches the basement. Whoever is responsible, knew this.”

  “We have an obligation to inform the authorizes.”

  I turned to face Flynn.

  “Sir, there’s extenuating circumstances.”

  “Such as?”

  “His chest.”

  I sunk to my knees and knelt beside Travis’s body. Then I opened his torn shirt. Carved on his chest was the number one. With a stone-cold expression, I looked over my shoulder at Flynn.

  “This is personal.”

  He shook his head in agreement.

  Sounds faded, leaving only the buzzing in my ears. The hunter in me was fueled by revenge, a rage that couldn’t be pacified seethed. The killer would pay, I decided, as vengeance brewed calmly within me. Retaliation would be ugly, brutal, and ruthless. But, in the end, I would even the score.

  “Gather the men.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Once you’ve collected enough evidence, call it in.”

  I had no intention of handing this over entirely. I would put a special unit together. We had the evidence, and the crime photos. We would cooperate with the homicide unit fully, but this was my man, and I would ensure my own brand of justice.

  “I want his killer found.”

  The lethal edge in my voice didn’t go unnoticed. From savagery, justice would be born.

  “Thanks for the invite, Alex. Is Mrs. Davis cooking?”

  Madison approached me from behind with impeccable timing.

  “Why do you ask, Ben?”

  Her hand rested on her hip, awaiting my response.

  “Alex’s cooking is always a gamble. I was only determining my odds of survival.”

  My brother chuckled, low and throaty. I bit back a smile.
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  “So, Alex, when are you going to put a ring on this woman?”

  “Ask Madison. She’s the one holding out. I’ve asked at least a dozen times.”

  All eyes landed on her.

  “All in good time,” she replied, rearranging freshly cut flowers from their garden. Then she placed the glass vase in the middle of the dining room table.

  “Have a seat, everyone. I’ll help Mrs. Davis serve.”

  Madison disappeared into the kitchen as Alex opened a bottle of wine.

  Michelle had joined us for dinner.

  “Mrs. Perry, how are you?” I tentatively asked. Her loss still new, and very raw.

  “Day by day, Ben.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  I’d never experienced the kind of loss related to death, the kind that left me in utter despair. Certainly not with my father. Sympathetic to her loss, I only had one loss to compare it to, and it hurt like a bitch.

  I enjoyed the meal and conversation, yet a slice of envy speared through me watching my brother in love. And the love that was returned with such potency. I was happy for him, but that didn’t make it any easier to witness.

  The ladies cleaned up in the kitchen, allowing time for us to talk as we moved to the great room.

  “Something stronger?” Alex offered.

  “No, thanks.”

  “I have everything you need to exhume Father’s remains,” he said, holding out a manila folder. “It’s all in there. As the executor, you can proceed with the disentombment.”

  “You work fast.”

  “I understand the urgency, but I only hope you’re prepared for the outcome.” He sat across from me, scotch in hand. “I have my concerns, and I’m worried about you.”

  If I’m being honest, it worried me, too. Either possibility left me feeling on edge. One simple test deciding my future was a bit daunting.

  “Ben, are you ready to accept your fate? Are you prepared for the outcome if it’s not what you anticipate?”

  “Fuck if I know. I’ve lived a numb life for ten years, if she is our sister, I have no choice but to accept it, now do I?”

  I watched as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass, as if contemplating his next words.

  “You’re right,” he finally says. “I only hope you can live with it and move on. Maybe even find some happiness.”

  “You sound so sure that it’s going to come back a positive match,” I grit out, a note of irritation in my voice. Then a familiar tug on my heart tightened. I knew better than anyone the risk I was taking. The uncertainties and doubt were weighing heavily on me. Alex didn’t need to add to the mix.

  “No, I’m only looking at it from all angles.”

  “That’s right, you are a fucking lawyer.”

  He drained the last drop from his glass. “Famous last words.”

  “Thanks for everything, but I have an early day tomorrow, I should be going.”

  He walked me out, shook my hand, and brought me in for the man-hug goodbye.

  He held it a beat longer than expected.

  I understood his concerns, because I had my own. At times, I felt as if I was swimming in a sea of sharks. This was definitely one of those times.

  Reaching my office before my staff arrived was out of the ordinary for me. The eeriness caused an unsettling surge as I walked through the dim light toward my office. Once in, I switched on the overhead lights and sat at my desk, then I began my day, opening the file that held so much power.

  Reading line by line, word by word I realized that if I wanted answers sooner than later, I’d be forced to line some pockets. Fuck, I sounded just like my father. My chest became even more constricted at the thought.

  Of course, that didn’t stop me; it only drove me harder. And at eight o’clock sharp, I made the call, putting the pieces in motion. My first step was to schedule the exhuming of my father’s body. The soonest it could be done was the day after tomorrow.

  Next, was transportation to the lab, where the DNA would be extracted. Once they completed that task, his remains would be taken back to the cemetery, and buried once again.

  What kind of son did that make me, ripping my father’s corpse from the grave for my own selfish reasons, only to prove him wrong and dishonor his last wishes? There wasn’t a shred of guilt to be found in me. He had trained me well.

  There was a knock on my door, and Janet slipped in.

  “Good morning, sir. Have you been here long?”

  I wasn’t surprised that I’d upset her morning routine. I rarely arrived earlier than my assistant.

  “Not long.”

  “Coffee, then?”

  “That would be great. Thank you, Janet.”

  Once alone, I dialed the lab. This would prove to be the most challenging. I decided to ask for whoever was in charge. The laboratory director surprisingly answered his phone.

  I purposely mislead him, starting the conversation concerning a financial donation to the specific studies he was involved in. I was quickly informed that there was a department who handled this—certainly not the director himself. He sounded a bit perturbed.

  “I’m not involved in any research donations, Mr. Stone.”

  I decided to shift gears. “Dr. Richmond, I’m requesting a DNA test to verify paternity. It needs to be expedited quickly. Your lab has been listed as one of the top five in the country.”

  “Indeed, I’m aware of our ranking.”

  “What can be done to ensure a speedy result? Anything, Dr. Richmond. Just name it.”

  And that’s how my father would had done it. A check would be deposited into an offshore account, and I would have my answer approximately forty-eight hours after the sample reached their facility. I also sent the original samples of Jordan and myself that I had secretly tucked away in a local lab in town.

  I leaned back in my chair as Janet set my coffee on my desk.

  “Thank you.”

  Now there was nothing more I could do; it was all in their hands.

  I was late for Jordan’s meeting, so I slipped in quietly, eager to hear what she had to say. Stealing glances, I could see her face clearly as she acknowledged my presence. I watched in secret admiration as she held the interest of each department head in the palm of her hands.

  She paced gracefully as she spoke, her cunning eyes focused, guiding the staff through her presentation. She also slipped in a warm smile, words of encouragement, and praise for their hard work and dedication. It was no wonder people gravitated to her.

  “Furthermore, take a few moments to share the accomplishments with your staff, and let them know we all value their hard work, as well.”

  I experienced a familiar urge, linked to years of denying myself. Her intellect was a turn-on, her ability to rule a boardroom electrifying. She didn’t even realize the power she held.

  “That’s it for today. Thank you all.”

  Once the meeting adjourned, I approached.

  “Are we still on for the charity event?”

  She continued to walk as we spoke. “Of course. It’s tonight.”

  “I’ll pick you up.”

  She instantly halted and turned to me. Her gaze lifted to mine in question.

  “We usually just meet there.”

  “I’ll pick you up tonight.”

  “If you insist.”

  The driver pulled to a stop and the limo idled at the curb. Before I could reach her front door, she was walking out, I quickly rounded the back of the limo and opened her door.

  “You look beautiful, Jordan.”

  I was glad to see her, and she returned the smile. Then I followed in behind her.

  Her gown white, strapless and flowing. Her hair was down in waves, the auburn tresses moving playfully over her bare shoulders. Her eyes were highlighted by a liner, causing her amber eyes to stand out. The gold flecks were prevalent in the dim glow of the limo. My gaze traveled over to her exposed cleavage, a sight rarely displayed.

  I’m pulled from my
unspoken captivation when her voice lures me back to the present.

  “You look quite dapper, Ben.”

  Something warm and tender stirred in me, but I was afraid to name it just yet. It would be foolish to let myself believe in a future with her, certainly not until the truth was exposed. I knew it would be safer to do just that, but I’d played it safe for far too long, and her playfulness was inviting.

  “It just so happens that I was going for dapper.”

  “Overly confident, are you?”

  If she only knew, that was the furthest from the truth. We reached the club and the driver let her out first. I eagerly followed. I was finally bestowed with the entire package as I admired her impeccable look from head to toe.

  The floor-length white satin strapless dress was simple and minimalist, yet it hugged every curve. Her graceful movement flowed confidently as she looked over her shoulder for me. Our gaze locked, and she smiled.

  “Drink?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I order two glasses of champagne.

  “Shall we make the rounds?” I asked.

  “Lead the way, Miyagi.”

  Reaching for her glass of champagne, she clinked my glass as we both broke into smiles. Her arm rested in the nook of my elbow.

  Besides being smart and innovated, her captivating poise knew no bounds. She knew her way around a deal, and I personally witnessed her close a deal with simple exchange of a handshake, and a glass of bourbon. Always followed by a profitable outcome. I admired her for that, and stepped back, allowing her to take the lead.

  Impressed with her skill and professionalism, I watched every move she made. I observed her as she revealed her true nature, establishing rapports with future business prospects. In the end, she walked away with several impressive leads.

  She had a way of drawing attention, whether it was wanted or not.

  My face a mask of professionalism, as I endured being close to her, even when I knew our future lay in the hands of only a few chromosomes.

  “That was a well-thought out idea back there, Jordan. You came prepared, I’m impressed.” Unbeknownst to her, she was unable to turn off her hidden charms. “And, in case you haven’t noticed so were they.”