Kidnapped by the Billionaire(37)

"Is your wound troubling you?" Rutherford murmured. "I apologize. It's not like me to miss."

Elijah ignored the dig. "Mind hurrying this Q&A session, or whatever the fuck this is, along? I have things I need to do."

"Things such as using Fitzgerald's daughter for some kind of glorified revenge plan?"

The words were mild enough, but it prompted another rush of memory about  the confrontation in his apartment. St. James telling him they knew  about what had happened to Marie. That they knew what he wanted. At  least they thought they knew what he wanted.

"Yeah," he said flatly. "That."

Woolf's expression hardened, the glitter in his dark eyes furious. "Over my dead fucking body."

Elijah met the other man's gaze. "That can be arranged."

"Fuck's sake," Eva King said disgustedly. "Can we stop it with the dick  measurements? I'm kind of over it." She stepped forward, a small,  delicate woman in black jeans, heavy boots, and an AC/DC T-shirt, her  long white-blonde hair in a ponytail down her back. "I've got some  questions that are actually relevant."

This was the woman who'd taken Elijah's revenge from him and all because  he'd made one stupid fucking mistake. Yeah, she was brave, he'd give  her that. He'd been impressed with her fighting spirit when he'd brought  her to Fitzgerald, but that didn't mean he'd forgiven what she'd done.

Elijah glowered at her, unable to stop the uprush of sudden anger that  twisted in his veins. "What makes you think I'm going to tell you  anything?"

He noticed Rutherford had taken a small step so he was right behind her,  his posture tense. Clearly he didn't like his little girl being  threatened.         

     



 

Another memory flashed behind Elijah's eyes, of Violet pressed against  him. Of his arm around her, holding her close. Of the strange feeling of  wanting to take her and hide her away. Protect her from all those guns  trained on her.

They thought he'd been using her as a shield to protect himself. Hell,  that's exactly what he'd told himself he was doing, because there was no  way they were going to take him. No way they were going to take her  either. He needed her, after all. Yet that hadn't explained the fury  that roared through him when St. James had pointed it out. Or why he'd  felt himself relaxing when her fingers had rested on his arm. Or even  the inexplicable need he had to turn them both around so that his back  was facing all those guns.

But he hadn't done that. He'd seen the almost imperceptible move that  Alex's beautiful bodyguard had made, a shift in posture that told him  she was going to fire, and he'd shoved Violet aside to get her out of  the way instead.

He didn't know why he'd done that since it was obvious Woolf and his  friends wouldn't hurt Violet. That it wasn't her they were aiming at,  but himself. And yet all he'd thought about was making sure Violet was  well out of the line of fire.

Because you want her alive and whole for Jericho. Right?

Yes. Of course. That was it.

And yet all the same, he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the  expression on Rutherford's face. A glittering, dangerous look that  promised death to anyone who touched what was his.

Fuck. Pull yourself together.

Eva thrust her hands into her pockets, her head tilting, giving him a  steady, sharp look. "I get it, you're pissed with me 'cause I shot that  prick. But if you think I'm going to apologize for it, you're shit out  of luck." It was true. She didn't look in the least apologetic. "Anyway,  if you wanted his head so badly, why did you let me go?"

Up in Fitzgerald's office, Elijah had stood there with his gun held to  Eva's head, a hostage for Rutherford's good behavior. Doing his good  soldier act. It had taken him at least five years to get it right, but  by the time Fitzgerald finally made him his right-hand man, he'd  perfected it.

No one, least of all Fitzgerald, had ever suspected him of any ulterior motive, any secret plan.

He'd become one of Fitzgerald's men so thoroughly that sometimes he'd forget that there had ever been another way to be.

He'd almost forgotten up in that office.

"Because it looked like that guard dog behind you was going to shoot  him," he said at last, because really, there wasn't any reason not to  tell her. "And I wanted that honor for myself." He paused, giving her  back a cold stare. "Except then you picked up the fucking gun and did it  instead."

Eva was silent a moment. "You want to know why?"

"No."

"Because what happened to your wife nearly happened to me." The words  were hard and cold, falling into the room like bits of ice.

Ah, so that was the answer. Another small piece of the puzzle falling into place.

He'd never asked his boss why Fitzgerald had wanted him to get Eva,  since asking questions was never a prudent move. But that didn't mean he  hadn't tried to find out. Over the years he'd built up a pretty good  network of contacts who fed him all sorts of information about  Fitzgerald's operations, and yet that particular piece of information  had eluded him.

"What?" she said, correctly interpreting the look on his face. "You didn't know?"

"No. I didn't."

"Please. You can't tell me you were his favorite pet, following his  orders so faithfully, and yet you didn't know why he wanted me so  badly?"

Elijah gave her a silent scan that had Rutherford behind her tensing  even more. Yes, she was just the sort of woman Fitzgerald liked. Small  and delicate, beautiful and strong. So he could break them.

Like Marie.

He forced the thought of Marie away. He didn't want to feel sympathy for  this woman, for any of them. Sympathy was just another emotion that got  in the way of what he needed to do.

Ignoring the reference to his wife, he said, "I've only been his  ‘favorite pet,' as you put it, for five years. If he'd had you in that  time, I would have known about it."

Eva stared at him. "It was seven years ago."

"Then that's why I didn't know."

Her brows twitched. "You don't think there's anything wrong with that? With him keeping me like an animal in a cage?"

A silence fell, as if this was a very important question and the answer  mattered. Of course they'd think that. What they failed to understand  was that it didn't. His opinions, his feelings, made no difference, only  what he did.         

     



 

That's a fucking lie and you know it.

No, it wasn't. It was a necessary truth. A truth he had to believe,  because if he didn't, if he thought feelings actually made any  difference at all, he was fucked. They were a weakness, and he couldn't  be weak. Not again.

"What I think is irrelevant," he said coldly. "The facts are that you fucking killed him and destroyed seven years of planning."

She frowned at him. "What planning? I hate to say it, but seven years  seems pretty fucking long to plan for killing that asshole. Only took me  two seconds to pull that trigger."

Elijah sat back in the chair, flicking a glance at the others. They were all silent, all watching him.

Well, why not give them the truth? He certainly wasn't going to be  getting out of here without a fight and he needed to. He had a meeting  with Jericho scheduled, a meeting that required Violet. Perhaps telling  the truth would move things along.

"You think I only ever wanted Fitzgerald's head?" he said. "Yes, I  wanted to kill him, but that's not all. I wanted to take down his whole  fucking empire too."

Eva's brows twitched again, while Woolf's dark eyes narrowed. St.  James's expression was completely enigmatic, while the massive man  standing behind Eva stared at Elijah as if he was waiting for someone to  give the word to launch an all-out attack.

The gun trained on him didn't move an inch.

"For your wife?"

Eva's voice was flat, and despite the leash he had on himself, Elijah  felt his anger twist, pulling at it. "This has got nothing to do with  her." He tried to make it sound icy, but for some reason it didn't. It  sounded angry. Furious.

"Marie," St. James said, as if he was tasting the name. "Her name was Marie. I remember her. I remember you too, Kane."

Anger burst in his brain, a bright, white explosion.

Those nights he'd tagged along with Marie to the Second Circle, hating  the place but going anyway because she always got such a kick out of  being a member of such an exclusive club. Where they'd met some people  who'd then introduced then to Fitzgerald. Even then he hadn't liked the  guy, some instinct telling him there was something ‘off' about him. An  instinct he'd ignored because Marie had liked him, had thought he'd be  useful to them and their respective businesses.

Fuck, he'd been a fool. Weak minded with love, never realizing the wolf  his sheep of a wife was lying down with. He'd ignored the warning signs,  and now Marie was dead.

Kane Archer should have been put down before he'd ever allowed her to set foot in that place.

Elijah stared into Alex St. James's blue eyes. "You do not say her name,  not now, not ever. And as for Kane  …  He's dead and has been for seven  years."