The Darkest Danger (Shattered Series Book 2) (3 page)

     “The engagement party is within the hour. Unfortunately, we’ll be traveling separately since I have business to attend to beforehand,” Matt retorted, finishing his drink fast and then slapped the empty glass down alongside her full one. He faced her with a tight smile. “A limo will bring you to the festivities. When you get there, be sure to play the part well or there will be dire consequences. Who knows? After this evening, we might even consider taking our relationship to the next level.” His words were stone cold. “Soon, you will reciprocate my sexual feelings---regardless if that’s willingly or unwillingly on your part. I think that I should be commended for being so lenient with you anyway. Not once have you given me any signs of physical intimacy beside a few chaste kisses, and all those came before your accident, of course. Certainly, you can agree that it’s time that I taste your wares. No more excuses on holding out---”

     “You’re vile and disgusting. I want you to leave---now,” she said coldly, shaken by his spoken threat, and turned away from him again. “Get out of here.”

     “Just think about what I said, but know that I take what I want,” Matt snapped unkindly, already heading for the door. “Don’t make things harder than necessary. I’ll see you, there. Goodbye.”

     Through the glass pane, she watched as he strode for the door. When it closed behind him, she released a pent-up breath before sagging with relief.

     But, still, the sense of impending horror lingered.

***

     “I’ve always strongly believed in the element of surprise. The bastard won’t even see me coming,” Jarrod muttered bitterly, and his piercing green gaze fell on Marc. “So, it is the West Gala Hotel as we suspected.”

     “At 8:30 pm, the engagement party will be in full swing and that means we have roughly an hour to get in. The west end is undergoing some type of construction, so that appears to be the most vulnerable area. That’s our entry point,” Marc muttered, tapping the blueprint with a well-manicured finger. “I’ll tell you now, getting inside is going to be dangerous. Hell, let me be frank, potentially deadly if we’re not careful enough.”

     “Akin to the exploits and escapades like those of secret agents? Let me guess…I’m agent 009, and who the hell will you be, 0010?” Jarrod joked, arching a brow, but still his smile lacked any humor. “Don’t worry, I’m prepped---all my spy gear is intact.”

     Straightening from the other side of the desk, Marc passed him a long look. “Dude, this is serious, and nothing to joke about---”

     “You don’t fucking think I know that, Marc?” he snapped, throwing him an angry glare. “The people that I love and care about---their entire lives hinge on whatever happens tonight. And I simply will not screw up for any reason.”

     “Damn it, you’re coming unglued, and you’re wearing your emotions on your sleeve. But, don’t tighten your hands around my balls because of it. I’m on your side, alright? So, chill.”

      He blew a hard breath. “You’re right. I’m sorry. There’s no time for any bullshit. Go on with what you were saying.”

     After giving him another long look, Marc continued. “Security will be tight. Once we’re in, we should be prepared for anything---I’m sure you’re aware of that already. However, we won’t be complete sitting ducks. I’ve managed to scalp some VIP passes and get our men in. With all hope, you won’t go AWOL once I reveal the cost of that little endeavor. Let’s just say that it’s going to hurt that bank account of yours like a serious mofo.”

     “Can you believe the ego of those bastards---taking full control of the hotel and allowing limited access like they’re royalty?” he asked with disgust, throwing Marc another look. “They’re nothing but a joke.”

     “No doubt,” Marc agreed readily. “The best of the worst will be there tonight and that means that we have to take extra precautions.” Staring at him intently, he paused. “We can’t rule out the prospect of someone getting hurt…or killed. And that includes you. Are you prepared to lose your life over this?”

     Turning away from him, Jarrod faced the outside world. The dark mood of the Atlanta summer night was as somber as his own, he noted, staring out the study window at Widow’s Pointe. Yet, the deep woods surrounding the massive estate showed signs of restlessness as well. Also, he noticed the lone figure trailing along the edge of the woods. Of course, recent events had mandated tighter security, and they were stationed all over the sprawling 300 acre estate.

     Sure, it was a given that he had Addison on a wild goose chase with his enemy believing that he was in upstate New York. Like his parent’s grand home, his own estate was like an impenetrable fortress. But, still, it wouldn’t be wise to be lax and not be on guard at all times.

     As his green gaze focused, he caught sight of his reflection in the glass pane, and unsurprisingly, apprehension played along his rugged features. No doubt his thoughts were held hostage by Marc’s words.

     He frowned hard.

     Of course, he’d considered the possibility of bloodshed.

     Even his own---

     For weeks, his thoughts had been on constant replay, envisioning a 1940’s gangster-style scenario with firing guns and dead bodies. But, he was willing to risk everything to free Olivia from that monster, regardless of the potential deadly consequences. Protecting Meghan was at the forefront of his mission as well. If he didn’t make a stand, his daughter would be left vulnerable to unspeakable cruelty.

     That, he vowed, tensing further, he would not stand for. Even worse, hadn’t people that he loved paid the price before? The brunt of his past failure in that regards still haunted him, he mulled, stiffening.

     He’d lost his wife, his son…

     And he’d be damned if he lose anyone else in the process.

     “To hell with the cost---it’s the least of my concerns. We’ll do whatever’s necessary to make things happen,” Jarrod retorted sharply, facing him again. “Olivia doesn’t need to spend another moment in the presence of that sick fucker. There’s no telling what kind of hell he’s put her through already,” he murmured as his frustration peaked. “How could I have let things get out of control like this? Because of my short-sightedness, Olivia’s paying for my mistakes. She’s in trouble because of me.”

     With silent, stony features, Marc watched him from the other side of the desk. Still, there were flashes of pity in his dark eyes. “Didn’t I warn you that something like this would happen? From the very beginning, I cautioned you against involving Olivia in your little scheme. But, it’s too late for regrets. We can only operate from where things are here and now. And from where I’m standing, the situation appears to be more than bleak.”

     At Marc’s word, the pain and guilt hit him hard.

     He slammed a hard fist against the desk. “Damn it, Marc!” he yelled, releasing a round of fiery expletives. “How could I have jeopardized Olivia and Meghan’s lives like this?”

     This time, the swiveling chair received his fiery ire as he kicked it hard, sending it careening into the desk. If that weren’t enough, he shoved the papers and other items from it with one angry swipe of his arm. But, still, it did little to cool the raging anger that he directed at himself.

     With a look of sympathy, Marc watched him in silence.

     “I can’t lose Olivia…I can’t lose Meghan. I have to fix this,” he whispered woundingly, and the anger drained from him at once. Bracing shaky hands against the empty desk, he stared at Marc. “If anything were to happen to them, I don’t know what I’d do---”

     “We’re not going to let anything happen,” Marc interrupted, eyeing him close. “Dude, I know it’s hard as hell, and while I’m close to things, I’m not even going to pretend that I know how you feel. If I were in your position---hell, I don’t know how I’d react. But, you need to take a step back, and try to look at things objectively. We’ll have our own men in place, stationed at all levels. If the heat rises, we’ll spread our own fire.”

     He gave a curt nod. “Before we go, I’m going to make sure that the place is airtight. Even though I have the utmost confidence in my security staff, I still don’t feel good about leaving Meghan. Thank God that Rosa’s here to lend some sense of normalcy for the poor kid. Heaven knows that I haven’t been able to do that as of late.”

     “Give Meghan some time, she’ll come around.”

     “My own daughter hates me,” he sighed with regret, straightening to his full height. “Fuck, I hate me.”

     “Megan loves you. Come on---you know that. She’s trying to deal with the things that have happened. With you having been locked up and Olivia just up and gone out of the blue without a word, she doesn’t understand what’s happening. The poor thing,” Marc said, shaking his head, and the pity played across his face. “But, kids are resilient. They’re always a lot tougher than we give them credit for.”

     “She’s lost too much already---her mother, brother, and now Olivia,” he muttered, staring unseeingly at a point across the room. “That’s too much to ask of anyone, especially a young innocent child.  What makes it worse is that all of this---everything, it’s my fault. But, I intend to make things right. Olivia, Meghan, and I will be a family. We will be together again.” Finally, he moved from behind the desk before stopping alongside Marc. “To hell with the pity party…let’s go.”

Chapter 2

     Roughly a half hour later, Jarrod made way along the deserted backstreet. Still, keeping his eyes downcast, he tugged the dark hood closer around his face and hoisted the gym bag higher on his shoulder.  

     Even from the rear-side stance, the view was admirable, he noted, looking up.

     The grand West Gala Hotel loomed dead center of the other surrounding structures along 22
nd
West Avenue, and it was a mesmerizing sight against the starry backdrop. Tall, erect, standing at 30 stories, the impeccable structure contained 1350 rooms and more than 60 suites. The signature Solaris Red dome capped its top, giving it even a more distinctive flair.

     But, undoubtedly, there’d be another six or seven months before the multi-million dollar renovations were complete, Jarrod mulled, cutting a sharp right, and slipped under the yellow-ticker caution tape. The tell-tale signs of undergoing construction were evident along the back alley. The space was nearly shrouded in darkness except for the thin sliver of moonlight peeking through. Of course, that fact helped the situation in more ways than one.

     Like enabling his efforts this very evening---

     Though the evening was young, the Atlanta skyline was laden with clusters of bright stars. A pale quarter moon hung high and offered some visibility. When the dark shadow moved a few feet away, he tensed, but then relaxed as Marc stepped into full view.

     Marc acknowledged his presence with a fast nod before leading the way.

     Without a word, he followed.

     They headed further along the dark alley, and when the streets were far behind them, they stopped at the base of the tower crane. Reaching and obstructing the skyline at a daring height, the tower crane held three landings, with 100 feet separating each one, and a runway loomed above the operator cab. Attempting to climb the tower crane without harnesses and safety equipment was akin to signing a death warrant.

     Which was exactly what they were doing, he frowned, taking the lead.

     The vertical ladder was narrow but sturdy as he ascended with Marc following closely behind. When they’d made it halfway to the bottom landing, the sounds of the streets turned noisy again. The hot, muggy air stirred in the skyline and was nearly unbearable as they ascended further.

     Several tense minutes later, they reached their destination. At the far end of the landing, a few hundred yards away, there was one possible entry point. The abysmal pathway to a private hell, he surmised, treading ahead. But, one he’d willingly live through to get Olivia back.

     Moments later, a dead silence hummed as they ventured inside, and the area was nearly gutted except for the rafters, beams, and electrical wiring. Sheets of plastic covered the concrete floor, and it rustled ever so slightly under their footsteps.

     As planned, they both moved to a separate dark corner in the room.

     After dropping the gym bag to the floor, Jarrod knelt down and removed the black attire from it. No doubt, the tux probably somewhat wrinkled, he frowned, standing to shed the dark hoodie and sweatpants. Not that he really gave a damn…

     A few seconds later, both of them dressed in tuxes, they ditched the gym bags in the large trash bin at the far corner of the room. Satisfied that their physical evidence was buried under the ripped sheets of plastic and other debris, they moved to the center of the gutted room again.     

     The door leading to the stairwell was just ahead. Built solidly with pine, but still lacking a fresh coat of paint, the door was already standing ajar.

     Before advancing any further, he faced Marc in the darkness. “Where is this going to take us to?” he asked, taking a swift look around, and made certain that the small pistol was hidden at his waistband. “We can’t afford to fuck this up---”

     “Don’t doubt my efforts now, dude,” Marc shot back real fast. “I’ve gotten us this far, haven’t I? Right now, we’re on the tenth floor. We’re going to take the stairs all the way down to the fourth floor. The engagement party’s being held in the ballroom. Don’t worry. Besides the front entrance, the security cameras are disabled, and the security management team is getting a nice clear shot of a stilled image of the hotel area throughout.”

     He gave a curt nod. “I’ll give you one thing. You’re damned good at what you do, and it’s no wonder as to why you were a top secret agent. No doubt, you miss the thrills and chills of it, especially since you’ve traded it in to become one of Atlanta’s top security analysts.”

     “At times I do miss the world of espionage. But, my last shave with death in Hong Kong was more than enough, making me realize that I want to live a much calmer existence. Besides that, I like what I do now. If I keep involving myself in these wild and crazy antics of yours, though, I might find myself on the unemployment line soon,” Marc joked with a half-crooked grin. “But, we’ve been ass-deep in trouble together since our testosterone-filled youth. I’m not about to abandon you now.”

     “That’s good to know.” He gave a half grin, but sobered at once. “It’s time to move. The hour is nearly up. So far, so good---everything is going as planned, and there’s no room for error,” he said tautly. “I’ve taken care of things on my end. Frank T and a few others have been contacted. They’re already in place. We’re right on schedule.” He looked around the dark, empty space. “Once we’re inside, we split up, and I’ll find Olivia.”

     Marc nodded in agreement. “My men and I will scout out the perimeter, and keep a close eye on Addison. Apparently, Addison’s courting new clientele. I didn’t recognize most of the names on the guest list which is good. At least it allows us to level the playing field somewhat.”

     “While that’s true, we can’t afford to get lax,” he cut in, walking alongside him as they headed for the exit door. “We’ll communicate via text…no active calls. Every half hour, we check in. But, the minute something goes wrong, we contact each other immediately. When the right moment comes, we’re going to break all hell loose.”

***

     “Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the future Mr. and Mrs. Matt Addison.”

     The applause erupted in the hotel’s massive-sized ballroom. It was so thunderous that the sound of it seemed to echo from the walls.

     From the doorway, the bright lights and vivid colors in the ballroom nearly blinded her, and for a wild second, she feared that she’d faint.

     Swallowing back the hard tears, Olivia looked at the massive crowd of well-wishers. There were several hundreds of them, and they were everywhere, spilling as far as the large balcony outside. Probably, they occupied another level as well.

     She took in the sea of faces, a few of them kind looking, others not so much, and a formidable air exuded within the space. No doubt, she was in the presence of more than one nefarious evil-doer, she realized quickly.

     “Damn it, Olivia….smile,” Marc hissed at her ear, tightening his grip at her elbow. Blond hair slicked back with gel, smoothed perfectly in place, the white tuxedo gave him a gentlemanly look. But, his entire persona was a complete façade. However, he still managed a smile amidst his discord. “Put on the show of your miserable life or bear the consequences later. It’s your choice. More than that---remember it’s not just your life at stake. If memory serves me correctly, there’s a fair young girl around the age of seven or so. Meghan’s her name, I believe---”

     “Damn you,” she whispered, plastering a smile on her face. “Damn you to hell.”

     “Sorry, my dear, but I plan on sending you there first,” Marc uttered, pulling her along, and soon, they were surrounded by the attendees. A round of introductions were made, none that she remembered or even cared to, she mulled, and once more the suffocating feeling overcame her.

     The hour had to be at least past nine-thirty, she realized much later, briefly taking in the dancing crowd. An orchestra played in the center area of the ballroom, and currently, they were striking a string of soft melodies.

     If only she could float away on one of the soft notes, out of the room, and back to the place where she was safe and happy, she thought, staring off into the distance.

    
To Laramie Rock, where the waves were crashing in…and the Canyon Islands, sharing tequila and sunshine with Javier and Luna…to the beach where she and Meghan had shared endless hours of fun…to the yacht where she and Jarrod had began their torrid love affair…

     As the orchestra struck a new song, she was jolted from her reverie. Batting back tears, she looked around at the boisterous, milling crowd.

     Her heart sank.

     Even with a thousand wishes, the result would be the same.

    
She’d lost everything
.

     Distracted, she forced her attention back to her reality. Now, she and Marc shared company with an elderly couple, the Thompsons, and it wasn’t a surprise that they both came from old money, meaning that they were bluebloods of the south.

     Marc chatted incessantly with Mr. Thompson, and rather than talking business, they discussed their latest endeavors on the golf course. Mrs. Thompson worked to hold her attention while chattering non-stop. As the woman rambled on, she offered a strained smile, but she paid little heed to her words. When the maitre d swept past, she snagged a glass of champagne and gulped it down fast, nearly strangling herself in the process.

     “Are you alright, dear? It never does good to drink fast,” Mrs. Thompson chided, patting her back gently, and studied her close. “My goodness, dear child…you’re as pale as a ghost!”

     “Olivia has never taken to the spirits very well, I’m afraid,” Matt laughed, but it didn’t quite resonate. He gave a phony smile. “All this excitement is too much for her at the moment. Or rather, she realizes how important this evening is.”

     “I’m certain she does,” Mr. Thompson said, and it seemed that his white mustache twitched as his wizened blue eyes fell on her. Then, his tone took on a teasing note. “The poor girl is probably questioning her decision in marrying you, old boy.”

     She arched a brow. “You’ll never realize how many times---”

     “
Sweetheart
, you do look kind of flushed, and I certainly don’t want you to fall ill. Especially not on such an important occasion,” Matt broke in, coloring in embarrassment, and plucked the champagne glass from her hand. “I’m sure that Lillian can show you to the powder room.”

     “Come on,” Mrs. Thompson smiled, already grasping her elbow. “I need to freshen up a bit myself.”

     “Thank you,” she uttered, allowing herself to be led away.

     But, their journey was interrupted more than once, to her chagrin, and she was forced to show a false sense of happiness and gaiety. The powder room was only several feet away, she noted, looking past Mrs. Thompson who was deep in conversation with the small group of women surrounding them.

     Her gaze moved past another sea of faces, finally landing on the lone figure hovering at the dark corner near the restroom area. Within the shadows, he stood, watching her with an intensity that thrilled her to the core. They hid him well, but still, she made out the sharp tuxedo that molded along his lean form.

     Their eyes locked….held…and they were both imprisoned. A familiarity, a deep awareness…it flowed in the air. The intense stare---it probed her very soul.

     And wouldn’t it know
him
anywhere.

    
In the light……

     In the dark……

     Within the mouth of any madness……

     At once, their dangerous attraction flared to life.

     As she had countless times, she began to freefall---

     All thoughts of everything and everyone else fled.

     The fresh tears welled in her eyes.

     On their own volition, the naked sobs fought to break free. But, she forced them back.        

   
A rush of pure adrenaline raced through her veins, awakening her from the dark pits of inner despair, and she became
alive
.

     The shadows played across his face as he stepped further into the light.

     She fought to breathe.

     To strike some kind of balance or semblance between insanity and reality---

     There he was….

     In the flesh…alive and breathing…

     As her eyes flicked over him, the raw pain played across his visage, and the sheer potency of it nearly stifled her. No doubt, her own pain was mirrored across her face.

     She inhaled a sharp breath.

    
Jarrod…dear God…it was him

    
No…no…no…yes…yes….yes….

     A torrid fear for his safety…

     A bare elation at the sight of him…

     The conflicting feelings surged through her at once, and she didn’t know which to embrace first.

     He made movement to leave the shadows, but as the throng converged from around the corner, he held back. To her disappointment and despair, they stood right in her line of vision, blocking him from her sight.