A Dom Is Forever (26 page)

“I don’t care what she’s doing. Do you understand? I want her dead. I want my son back. You’re a traitor. You’re a goddamn traitor, and I want you dead, too!” Her mother-in-law, once so sweet, sounded monstrous. “I hate you. I hate you. You killed them, didn’t you? You wanted it.”

The phone dropped from her hand, nausea rolling in her stomach. Tears threatened, but she was at work. She couldn’t break down now. She couldn’t cry. She had to stay strong.

“Avery, dear? Are you all right?” Thomas stood in the doorway, his eyes on her. There was an anticipatory look in his eyes as though he was waiting to see if she would break down.

She couldn’t. Not here. This was her little slice of hell, and she wouldn’t bring anyone else into it. She picked up the phone and quickly turned it off. She couldn’t help the way her voice shook. “It’s fine.”

“I can see plainly that it’s not.” Thomas made his way to her faster than she would have expected. He put a hand on her shoulder. “What was that about?”

Avery shook her head. “I’m not exactly sure. It was Lydia.”

His face softened, his hand stroking her shoulder. “It sounded as though she was a bit upset.”

Her whole body felt weak. “She said something about a magazine article. I don’t know what she was talking about. She said I sent it to her. But, I didn’t send her anything.” A deep weariness threatened to invade her. Would this never end? She’d made a choice that seemed positive, but had caused a complete disconnect between her and the only family she had left. Even her aunt had taken her in-laws’ side.

“From what you’ve told me, she’s a bit lost, dear. She could have seen an article that reminded her about Brandon and got it in her head that you sent it her way. She’s not someone you can get back, Avery. I know you want a family, but she’s never going to forgive you.”

She wished he would stop talking. He wasn’t saying anything she didn’t know. “I just thought she would come around someday.”

“No. She won’t. Most people wouldn’t understand what you did. They would see it as a complete betrayal of your husband and your child. It’s why you shouldn’t talk about it. I understand, but most other people won’t. Your in-laws prove it.” He was close, his body brushing against hers as he pulled her close. “I’m the one who accepts you, Avery. I’m your friend. I’m so sorry you got that call.”

She let him hug her. He really had seemed like her only friend for so long. When she’d first taken the job and they’d been in New York, she’d thrown her whole being into her work. Brian had died shortly afterward and she’d stuck close to Thomas, two stunned victims alone on a seemingly endless sea.

She sniffled a little.

“It’s all right, Avery.” Thomas’s hands smoothed across her back. “I can take care of you.”

His voice was deeper than before, and she could feel the heat of his breath on her neck. A little shiver went through her. She didn’t like being so close. It felt different than before. It felt more intimate, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Maybe it came from being with Lee, but she suddenly didn’t want to be so close to Thomas.

“Sir, I needed to talk to you,” a masculine voice interrupted.

Thomas’s head came up, and there was a little snarl on his face. It was gone so quickly she wondered if she’d actually seen it. “Malcolm, this had better be important.”

“I wouldn’t interrupt you if it wasn’t.” Malcolm was the head of Thomas’s security. Standing at a massive six foot four, Malcolm was a bit of an enigma. He rarely talked, and he disappeared for long stretches of time. Thomas almost always had a bodyguard around, but Malcolm was the only one who really scared her.

Thomas stepped back, reaching for his cane again. “I’ll see you in an hour or so, dear. Please order some lunch for everyone. Use my card.”

He stepped into his office, Malcolm closing the door behind him, and she was alone again.

She wanted Lee. She wanted to call him and tell him to come and get her, and she would just go with him anywhere he wanted to go.

And he would ask why and she would have to admit what she’d done. Would he understand? Or would he be like her in-laws and find it to be a betrayal? She wasn’t sure she could risk it.

In the end, she picked up her phone and took the coward’s way out. She texted him explaining that she couldn’t meet him for lunch.

Her phone rang almost immediately. Lee. She couldn’t talk to him right now. She would break down. She texted again.
In meeting. Can’t talk.

That’s twenty, love. Don’t think I’ll forget. Pick you up at five.

Twenty. He was going to spank her. She would get upset at the injustice, but just for a moment he’d taken her mind off her trouble.

Yeah, she’d take a spanking for that.

With her hands still shaking, she sat down and got back to work.

* * * *

Molina tossed his cane away with an angry crash.

He hated that cane. It had been necessary for the last several years. He needed it to keep up his pretense, but how he loathed being seen as weak and vulnerable. He should be able to force Avery to her knees, to spread her legs and make her scream, but no, he had to play the pussy role.

One day she would know exactly how strong he was.

“Careful, boss, someone might come running in.” Malcolm’s voice was perfectly bland as though he hadn’t interrupted something intimate. The idiot had the worst timing. She’d been soft in his arms. She’d been ready to accept his lips on hers, and Malcolm had ruined everything. She’d been horrified at her mother-in-law’s call. It had been exactly as he’d planned. Now she would compose herself. Now she would gather that seemingly endless supply of optimism around her like armor.

“Give me one good reason I don’t fire you this instant.” And by fire, he really meant find a bloody gun and take Malcolm’s head off. That might start to calm him down.

If Malcolm was affected by his harsh tone, he didn’t show it. His face was blank and smooth as always as he took the seat in front of Molina’s desk. “You said you wanted an update on Lee Donnelly. I thought I would give you one.”

“Do you have a picture of the bastard’s face yet?” Molina tossed his body into his chair and then winced at the nasty pain. He was hard, but then being around her always made him hard. The thought of all that innocence for the taking had his fists clenching.

“No, I haven’t. It’s a little worrisome. It’s like the bastard knows what he’s doing.” Malcolm laid a folder in front of him. He opened it and pulled out four photographs. Not a single one of them had a good shot of Donnelly’s face. He was tall and well built, with broad shoulders and arms that looked like they had seen the inside of a gym on a regular basis. “He always wears a baseball cap and tends to keep his head down. He makes sure she walks on the inside. Do you see how he always takes the street side?”

Polite asshole. Unfortunately, he also always seemed to be looking Avery’s way so most of the shots were of the side of his head. Avery, on the other hand, was in almost every shot, her face shining up. She held on to her new boyfriend, her eyes constantly looking at him. She looked happy where she always looked so lost and sad before.

He realized in that moment it was her misery that attracted him. She fought so valiantly against it. It was interesting to watch her flail and fight and pretend that her life was all right.

She’d been so brave, and he wondered what could make her cower in fear.

He wanted to be the one who finally broke her. And he wouldn’t let this nasty fuck change that.

“Take him out.”

“Boss, he moves quite well for a civilian.” Malcolm frowned. On him it was practically a cry for help.

“MI6? He can’t be CIA. Nelson ran the trace on him,” Molina argued.

“And there was nothing in his background that made Nelson worry. But I look at him and I think he’s dangerous.” Malcolm sat back, his eyes on the pictures. “I’ve also had the feeling I’m being followed. I can’t catch the bastard, though. I don’t like it.”

Molina sighed. Malcolm was being a worried old woman. “We’ve known since two weeks after we hired Weston that MI6 was watching. It’s not news. They’re desperate. They know they don’t have a thing on us, and time is running out. They’re just trying to justify their continued existence. They won’t find anything. I have the files and they’re in code.”

“Codes can be broken.”

“Surely they can. Especially when they look like codes.” He was getting too old to argue. “I want Donnelly dead.”

Malcolm’s eyes held his for a brief moment before he assented. “All right, but I should remind you that you had a plan concerning Avery Charles and it would be smart to follow it.”

“I don’t like the fact that she’s fucking him.” It rankled. She was supposed to be waiting. He’d isolated her so she didn’t have any friends, and she’d still found someone to fuck.

“She wasn’t a virgin.”

But he was sure she hadn’t had sex since her boy husband had died. She would be tight. So fucking tight. He could tear her up. He could make her plead and still he would shove his way in. He would spread her wide and fuck her until she bled. That would be a form of virginity. “I wasn’t asking your opinion.”

“It’s my job to make sure this deal runs smoothly, sir, and Avery Charles crying rape to Scotland Yard would be a problem. Wait until we get her safely in the Middle East, and we can deal with her. The house in Dubai is ready, and I have a phalanx of armed guards who will ensure she can’t leave. You can have your business, and you can keep her for as long as she entertains you. You’ve worked very hard, sir. Don’t screw it up now.”

“I want his head.”

“That could prove troublesome. Heads are heavy. How about I cut off his dick? So much easier to transport on the Tube.” Malcolm didn’t crack a smile.

“I don’t give a shit. I want him dead. Make it hurt.” He sighed. He really didn’t have time for this crap. “Just kill him. Don’t do it in her flat. Make it look like a random act. I don’t want her thinking this had anything to do with her. Not now.”

He would let her know later, when the time was right and she couldn’t get away. Avery was the woman he’d waited for. The one he’d sacrificed for. The one who made everything worthwhile. He’d killed plenty of bitches, but they hadn’t served his soul the way he thought Avery would.

“I can handle this for you.”

After he had the Lachlan Bates deal done, he could head to Dubai and then on to someplace even more isolated and live like a king. He would still travel, but his home base would be safe. Avery would be safe.

All he had to do was get through the next few weeks and make sure that shipment went out. Which meant he needed to find a way to get the cost of that goddamn wheat down or he needed to find a new donor because he wasn’t going to bear that cost himself.

He had to pay for too many assassinations anyway. Malcolm didn’t murder people for free, which was actually a minus against his continued employment.

“Also, here are the details of your meeting tomorrow,” Malcolm slid an envelope his way. It was plain with no writing on it, but he knew who it was from.

Eli Nelson. Another problem he had to deal with. He owed the man. But Nelson had taken his cut, and now he was back for more.

Still, he had connections. He wouldn’t have gotten the Lachlan Bates deal without him. Nelson had a real shot at helping him get into the Middle East. Africa was small potatoes compared to the Middle East. And he would dearly love to serve both sides of the inevitable Pakistani-Indian conflict. Nelson was working hard to make that little war happen.

It was worth giving him a cut. To a point.

He opened the instructions and sighed. “Do you have any idea what this shit is about?”

Malcolm shrugged. “I just take notes, boss.”

There wouldn’t be a second note, no ability to request an explanation for this very strange request. He would either follow it or he wouldn’t.

And that rankled, too. Nelson had simply given him his start, his new identity. He’d made it possible to cast off the old one like a snake shedding his skin. When he thought about his old life, it was with a sort of despairing nausea. The things he had done to please his disgusting family, to fit in, to try to show who he was. Nelson had taught him it was all right to follow his instincts, to take care of himself and let the others rot.

Oh, sometimes he missed them. Well, he missed one of them, but that life was dead. He’d eradicated it, and it couldn’t touch him now.

And perhaps Nelson had taught him all too well. Sometimes the best solution to a problem was getting rid of it all together.

After he had what he wanted.

“Of course, I’ll do as he asks. After all, he’s my mentor.” He didn’t bother to mention that he’d murdered his last mentor.

Malcolm was his liaison with Nelson. It seemed best to keep their meetings to a minimum so they weren’t connected. Malcolm had no connections. His cover was so deep Molina would be surprised if Malcolm remembered what his original name had been.

“Should I send Monica in, sir?” Malcolm got up and went to the door.

Sweet, dumb Monica. She thought he was going to marry her. She was good for hiding files and had a remarkably flexible jaw. She could take care of his problem. “Yes.”

Malcolm left and Molina found his cane. It was time to perform again.

Liam watched her. He’d expected a bit more excitement, but Avery was shut down and had been for hours. She’d been waiting for him outside her office building, not inside as he’d planned. He wanted to get a lay of the land, but she’d been standing outside, her face a pale white, her hands on her purse. She’d followed him to the Tube, sat beside him through dinner, but she hadn’t really engaged.

It was getting to him. Was she that worried about the evening ahead?

“We could just go home,” he said. The last thing he wanted to do was push her and potentially lose her, and it was for reasons that went far beyond the op. He wanted her to enjoy this part of his life. He was finally realizing just how much he needed it. He’d always thought of it as fun before, but now he wanted the responsibility. He wanted the deep ties that came with D/s.