Sin, page 21
Something simple is fine ~Malcolm
Or how about I bring dinner, and you wait for me naked on our bed ~Malcolm
I want you to sit on my face tonight and ride my tongue ~Malcolm
A few others go on like that until the last one a few minutes ago.
I’m coming home. ~Malcolm
Touching the small picture of him I have at the top of our message thread; I press the call button and wait. It barely rings once when he answers, the harsh rustle of wind on his end lets me know he’s outside—more than likely heading my way.
“Are you okay?” There’s some bite to his tone, but I know it’s not with me. A car honks near him and then another. “Tell me you are okay?”
“I’m fine, babe. A little shook up, but fine...I promise.” Opening the front door, I walk down the steps and down his driveway. My mind is racing, trying to fight off the fear seeing him brought on, and I need to keep moving. Put one foot in front of the other as I fight to find my calm.
“They should have never approached you. I’m sorry—”
“Not your fault.” And it isn’t. However, it does make me think. Makes me wonder what it’ll take to rid myself of the men I thought were family. “Actually, I’m safe because of you. Because you care.”
“I more than care. Never doubt that.”
His words bring a smile to my face and I close my eyes, soaking in the meaning behind them. “I more than care too.”
“I know.” Cocky man. “Maybe we can call it a Netflix and Chill day?”
“Get back to work, Mr. Asher.”
“London—”
“Chop chop, mister.” The leaves to my left rustle, but I pay them no mind. This property is safe. “Go wrap up whatever you need to and then come home. We’ll order a pizza and eat it in bed while watching that boring movie you had on last time.”
“So bratty.”
“You bring it out of me.”
“Are you sure? I can come back with no problem.”
“Positive. See you soon, babe.” Disconnecting the call, I open my eyes and realize that I’m at the end of his long driveway. At the entrance and staring into the eyes of a man I’ve never seen before. “Who are you?”
“Are you a Miss London Gabriela Foster?” The way he says my name, as if he knows me, isn’t sitting well with me. That, and how does he know my middle name? I never use it. “Please don’t be alarmed, ma’am. I just want to talk to you.”
I take a step back from the closed gate. “How do you know my name?”
“Can I come in and speak to you? I’m with the FBI and have some questions.”
“Show me your I.D.” Where the hell is security? I know someone is always guarding the entrance and back of the property. “If I do, can I come in?”
“You need to regardless.” His eyes tighten at my answer, lips thinning, but he schools the expression quick enough. Back is the smile he gave me when I first noticed him standing here. It creeps me out. He creeps me out. “Never mind. Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”
“Did you know that the man you’re sleeping with is a killer?”
That makes me pause and step back, my anger rising. “Why would you say something like that? Show me your badge, or my next move is to call security and the cops.”
“As you wish.” He pulls out a small manila packet from inside his suit jacket along with a bifold wallet. Flipping it open, he holds it to the bars so I can read his name. The first thing I notice is he’s part of the Federal Bureau of Investigations and his name is Shawn Hayes. “Satisfied?”
“Not really.” Some would think this should put me at ease. It’s the opposite. Makes it worse.
Why would a member of a government agency be here?
Why would he avoid showing me his credentials until I mention calling the police? If he’s here under direct orders, he wouldn’t care. He also wouldn’t be fidgeting and looking back every few minutes.
A true professional wouldn’t be skulking in a corner or giving me leering looks.
“Look, I’m not here to make you uncomfortable, Miss Foster.” Agent Hayes comes closer to the gate, shifting his eyes to the area behind me. “I’m here to help you. Get you out of a situation that could end with your body in a morgue.”
“What the hell is—”
“Malcolm Asher is a killer.”
“Leave. Go before I scream.”
“He killed his last girlfriend, London.” Shawn opens the manila envelope and pulls out what looks to be pictures. His jaw ticks as he looks at the first, his expression full of ire as he tosses them at my feet. I don’t look down. I don’t move. Whatever is in those photos I have no doubt will haunt me. “Go on. Look down.”
“Leave.”
“Fucking look before I jump this fence and make you.” The warning in his tone, the way his hand goes to his side makes me bend slowly, following orders. There’s a glint that comes from his weapon as he pulls it out. “Look at what he did to her. Karina Hughes is dead because of him.”
A loud gasp leaves me and my stomach heaves; what’s in the pictures below is haunting. Will forever be etched into my mind. “No. No.” I’m shaking my head, hands trembling as I flip to the next.
A beautiful girl.
Vacant eyes.
A bullet hole right between the eyes.
Her body with a bluish tint in a morgue, bruises littering her body.
Blood. So much freaking blood.
It’s everywhere. Splatters. The floor and the wall behind her.
“He killed her. Took her from those who love her. Still mourn her.”
“Leave,” I say, my voice shaking, but get no response. When I look up, he’s gone and I’m alone.
My body begins to shake, and breathing gets hard. Those empty, blank eyes are all I see.
Every image rushes across my mind in a fucked-up reel, a tiny horror movie that holds my life hostage. Fight or flight kicks in, and all I want to do is bolt. Run away from it all and never look back, however, I can’t.
Maybe I’m crazy, but accepting this at face value feels wrong. Off.
Malcolm would never hurt someone he cares about. You know this.
“What’re you doing, London?” a voice calls from the other side of the gate, the engine of a car running. “You okay? You’re shaking.”
My eyes leave the pictures and lock with Mariah’s. “Help me.”
Make sense. Tell me it’s wrong.
Whatever she sees in my expression puts her in panic mode, and she runs back toward the gate’s access panel. Her fingers work fast to push in the code, but to me everything seems to be happening in slow motion. Each breath is harder than the last.
This has to be an error. Please, God. Let it be wrong.
“What’s got you so scared, sweetie. What’re you looking…” Mariah trails off now, seeing what I am. She takes the pictures from my hand and pulls me with her toward the still running car, placing me in the passenger seat and even buckling me in.
I’m on autopilot, and it isn’t until we pull into traffic down the street that I react. “Where are you taking me? What the hell is all this?”
“Who gave you those pictures?” she asks instead of answering me, making a right turn toward the expressway. “Please, London. It’s important that I know where these came from.”
“An FBI agent—”
She cuts her eyes to me. “A Shawn Hayes?”
“Yes, but why?” We’re on an expressway with the signs indicating that The Loop is our destination. “What’s going on? Why are you even here?”
“My cousin gave me the afternoon off and I decided to spend it with you. Was hoping we could get some lunch or watch a movie, but now that won’t do.” Cutting off an older man in a large SUV, she presses down on the gas of her BMW coupe. “You doubt him.”
“My rational side is telling me to run, but my heart doubts what that agent said. The man I know, and the one Hayes painted, are not the same. Can’t be.”
“And what if he is?”
“Then there has to be a very good reason behind his actions.” That’s the God’s honest truth. Deep down I know Malcolm is dangerous, my fam—the Fosters wouldn’t fear him if he wasn’t, but I still need an explanation. I need him to make this right. Give me back the feeling of safety taken from me today. “All I know is that right now, I’m scared.”
“Of him?”
“Of everything.” Of knowing that either way, my feelings for him won’t change.
“All the more reason to go see him.” With a high arch in her brow, she looks at me for confirmation.
“Would you take me back to the house or elsewhere if I say no?”
“Would I agree with it? No, but yes, I would.”
“Thank you.” I believe her. Just like I know that rash decisions can lead to catastrophes. That he’s never been anything but good to me, and I have to believe in that if nothing else. “Now, take me to the Asher building. He needs to see these photos.”
A small smile crosses her lips and she takes my hand in hers, squeezing. “Don’t lose your trust in him, London. Not everything is as it seems.”
30
Early that same morning…
“YOU’RE UNEXPECTED IS HERE,” Mariah announces around ten thirty through the intercom. I’ve been expecting this visit.
Have seen him skulking around; at the airport and outside my building. He’s following a dead-end trail that will lead to nowhere.
“Let him in.” I grab my cup of coffee and sit back in my chair. Waiting. There’s a ping on my computer, an incoming email that I’ve been waiting on all morning from the developer in Shanghai, but it’ll have to wait. The construction of my building is ahead of schedule and will be completed within the next eight months versus a year.
I’m happy with that. Opens the door for more business.
“Good morning, Mr. Asher.” Shawn enters my office sans Marcelles. His cocky gait and grin—that I know something you don’t attitude doesn’t intimidate me in the least. However, I’ll give it to him for having enough balls to continue his pursuit.
“Drop the polite act and get to the point.”
“Is that how you want to play?” Shawn eyes the documents on my desk, trying to read something he’ll never understand. It’s in Mandarin and from the office of a powerful organization requesting my services.
To this agent’s detriment, I’ve read his file. Know his strengths and weaknesses. While the man prides himself on his brute attributes, the skill of speaking several languages evades him. He understands some Spanish and Italian, but that’s it. There’s no fluency.
“Curiosity is killing you, isn’t it.” Not a question. And while he will like nothing more than to take a picture or the paperwork itself, that would be breaking the law. No warrant, and it’s an invasion of privacy.
Inadmissible in court with the right amount of money thrown at it.
“One day you will fall, and I’ll be there to expose you. Walk you out of this building in handcuffs.”
“Is that right? Keep talking…please.” With my cup, I point to both a camera and the intercom system that’s still on. “Threatening a highly respected man, harassing him, won’t look good for the agency.”
“People like you make me sick. You have no right to record me—”
“This is not a public domain, Agent Hayes.” Standing from my chair, I walk around it and lean back on my desk. Wave a hand around. “It’s my building. My property, and I can surveil anywhere I wish to.”
“Why were you in Miami recently?”
“Are you following me, Agent? Have I become an obsession?” I counter. If he thinks that knowing my travel itinerary will scare me, once again he put the eggs in the wrong basket. Had he been paying closer attention, my meeting in Costa Rica should’ve been the priority. “And to answer your question; we needed to refuel. I never left the airport.”
“Where were you prior?” He’s getting agitated, face red. “What are you hiding?”
“Am I under arrest? Do you have a court-issued warrant?”
“No, but—”
I silence him with a hand held up. “Get out, and quit wasting my time.”
Hayes puts his hands inside his pockets and rocks back. “It’s in your best interest to cooperate with me.”
“Is that right? And why is that?” Javier and Carmelo appear at the doorway to escort him out, but I give a minute shake of my head that stops them. “Please tell me why that is.”
“Think of those you love.”
“I’d take that same advice, Agent Hayes. Be very careful who you threaten.” Looking back at Javi, I signal him to come in closer. “Get him off my premises, and tell Mariah to get me in contact with Director Monahan. I’m done playing games.”
“Consider it done, boss.” Carmelo places a hand on Shawn’s shoulder. “You can leave two ways…escorted, or on your own. Choose wisely.”
Hayes shrugs his arm off, all the while his glare is set on me. “You’ll be very sorry soon enough.” With that he leaves, and both men follow. One to make sure he leaves, and the other to tell his girl to contact the FBI director.
This man is going to be a problem.
I can already see it.
Another loose end that needs to be cut off from this thread.
Present…
After my talk with London, I’m calm enough to head back upstairs and get a few last-minute items done. With everything happening, I’m going to take a few days off and surprise her with a small vacation.
She needs this, and so do I.
I also need to feel those juicy lips wrapped around me. On a tropical island where it’s only us and naked, the sun bathing her skin while I fuck her mouth. Take her innocence and claim it.
My mind revisits how well she took me down her throat a few days ago—how easily she gave in to her needs and handed the control over. Since then, I’ve eaten her out a few times and then came in her mouth as I stood above her, jacking off to the sight of her satiated face. It’s done the job of calming me down, gave her the chance to embrace who she really is, but the wait is over.
“What do you think, Mr. Asher?” Li Qiang, my oversight director, asks. He’s been working with the developer and a P.R. agency—transferring over to this location from North Korea to keep us on this new schedule. If we lose the momentum, have to change things again to accommodate a new completion date, it’ll cost me more than the money I’m spending.
Customers, my clientele, don’t trust those that are late. Constantly change times and dates.
“Contact Mariah tomorrow, Li. She’s handling the final decisions regarding the grand opening and its guest list. What she says goes.” There’s a knock on the door, and I hold up a hand for them to give me a moment. “That’s right. Okay, I’ll let her know.” Another knock, a bit more persistent, and I look up to find my girl and Mariah, both wearing matching expressions. He says something else, but my focus is on an upset Twirl. On the hold she has on an envelope in her hands. “I got to go. Call her at some point tomorrow and figure it out.”
“O—”
I hang up before he finishes, already making my way to her. When I reach her, I take London’s hand in mine and ignore the slight flinch. Whatever happened between our phone call and now has her scared.
It’s like seeing that lost little lamb all over again from the first night at the club.
Shifting my eyes to Mariah, I level her with a hard stare. “What happened?”
“She had a visit to the house.”
The moment those words seep through, my vision gets hazy and red. Anger rushes through every limb, and I have to take a few steps back. I don’t want to make things worse, but the way I feel right now is nothing less than murderous.
“Shawn Hayes was at the house?” It’s a barely contained snarl, and Mariah is smart enough to close the door to my office. She nods in confirmation. “What did he do?”
My eyes are on my cousin, but it’s London that answers, pulling my attention toward her. She takes a few steps my way with a look on her face that I can’t quite decipher. “He gave me these at the gate, and before you ask, when we were on the phone, I took a walk down the driveway, not really paying attention since I feel safe there. When I hung up with you, there he was. Looking at me and quite honestly, giving me the creeps.”
“Show me.” Yet I make no move to touch her. I’m shaking. Hands clenching.
“I’m not looking at those again.” When I make no move to take the envelope, a flash of hurt crosses her soft features. She hides it under a mask of indifference, but I see it. All of her, while with trembling hands, she places them atop my desk. “Please look and explain, Malcolm. All I want is an explanation of why that man did this.”
Nodding, I walk to my desk and open the now-worn manila packet. The second the first photo falls into my hand, I have to take a moment to breathe. That son of a bitch has no idea what he’s just done.
“Empty this floor and the three beneath, Mariah. No calls or interruptions for the rest of the day,” I say with my back to them, leaning with my palms flat on my desk. The pictures scatter in front of me, yet it’s the one with her face, bullet wound on display, that I focus on. There’s an eerie calmness taking over my body. Scenarios playing out and plans forming.
Shawn Hayes just signed over his life to me.
“Of course. I’ll be with Javier downstairs if you need us.” The door opening and closing follows, leaving just the two of us inside my quiet office. Her breathing and mine are the only sounds within.
On my next inhale, she’s behind me. Close, her hand presses against the center in a supportive gesture. “Talk to me. Don’t shut me out.”
Not moving. Just touching. Her warm touch begins to thaw the ice flowing through my veins, but it’s not enough. I’m going to kill this motherfucker myself. My face will be the last he sees.
“Before I explain, I need to know—”
“For a few minutes, yes, I did.” Her tiny fingers move up my back, digging a bit into the tense muscles. “But I’m here, Malcolm. I’m here, so you can explain to me why this man sought me out. Why no one at the house...why security never came to remove him.”
