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Grounded by R. K. Lilley (38)









CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

James


JAMES - MINUTES EARLIER


Normally I thoroughly enjoyed a good negotiation.  Even knowing the likely results, I’d been known to draw them out.  Not today, though.  I felt a strange tension eating away at me.  I enjoyed giving Tristan shit, as I always did, but it was a little lackluster today.  

“These had better be some extra fancy card tricks,” I told him as the lawyers were making yet another revision to the contract.  It was pure cussed orneriness that drove me to say it to him.  The man was a genius at his craft.  In just a few short years, he had made his name in the world of big time Vegas magic shows.  He had brought a stunning and gritty new flare to an industry that had desperately needed a makeover, and that was just with his sleight of hand alone.  The best part was, I knew that he hadn’t even begun to show us all of his tricks.  He was constantly coming up with something new to show us.  And as expected, the man knew just how much he was worth, and we would be paying him accordingly. 

Tristan grinned, flashing white teeth at me.  He checked his watch with a raised brow, very obviously flashing my own Rolex at me.  I looked down at my bare wrist and cursed.  He was an entire table’s length away from me.  

“How did you do that from over there?” I asked him.

He pointed at the lawyers that were currently haggling with his agent.  “I believe it’s your contract that stipulates that I’m not allowed to talk about things like that.  Trade secrets and all.  Your lawyers would probably have to make a revision if I told you.  Do you really have that kind of time?”  He tapped my watch for emphasis.

I laughed.  It was hard not to.  He was an obnoxious son of a bitch, but an endlessly entertaining one.  “We’ll have to revise it anyway, if you’re planning to give yourself a fifty thousand dollar watch as a bonus.”

He reached his hand across the table, the watch appearing in his palm in a blur.  I reached to take it from him, and he had it on my wrist with the same blurring speed.  I shook my head at him.  Crafty bastard.

“Congratulations on the engagement.  The news is everywhere.  How did you get her to agree?  I would have sworn Bianca had more sense.”

I glared at him, but it was half-hearted at best.  Just the mention of my upcoming nuptials only made me want to grin like a fool.  “I begged her so pathetically that she finally just took pity on me,” I told him.

“That was nice of her.  She could do way better.  No offense.”

I just laughed, because he said no offense while so blatantly trying to offend.  “None taken.  Eventually she just found that she’d rather be able to keep track of the man who was stalking her so relentlessly.  I promised her that she could put a bell on me.”

Tristan shook his head.  “Poor girl.  She never had a chance.  You probably courted her with your hostile takeover approach.”

I rolled my eyes.  “I don’t even do hostile takeovers.  Stick to magic tricks, Tristan.  Your knowledge of the business world is embarrassing.”  I had found him to be uncannily proficient on the business end of his work, but this was just how we were.  It was nice to be able to take shots at someone who was as insensitive as I was when it came to being insulted.  

Tristan grinned.  “Sure thing, Boss.  Are you inviting me to dinner?  If I’m gonna sign this paper for you, I expect you to at least cook me dinner.  And I want to see your fiancée again.”

“Why the hell not?  Sure, come to dinner, if you can restrain yourself from stealing the silverware.”  I pulled out my phone.  “Let me call Bianca.  We’ll invite the guys.”

Bianca answered promptly.  “Hey,” she said, a smile in her voice.  “How’s work going?”  That smile in her voice made me smile, and that voice made me hard between one breath and the next.  Just one word from her, uttered in that steady timbre of hers, affected me more than any other woman had in my life.  Images of all of the ways that I’d had her, all of the ways that I planned to fuck her mindless, flashed through my mind, distracting me like nothing else could.  God, I wanted her.  Just the thought of her was more erotic to me than actual sex had ever been with other women.  I’d felt it from the start with her, and I was only falling deeper with time.

“It could be going better, but at least it’s almost done,” I told her, having to concentrate to do so.  I made myself stop thinking about being inside of her for one innocent phone conversation, but it was a struggle.  My cock twitched restlessly, and I was thankful that it was hidden under the conference table just then.  “My lawyers and Tristan’s agent are making some revisions, but that shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes or so, and then we’ll be done, thank God.  Tristan is trying to bankrupt the casino for some two-bit magic tricks.”  I looked at Tristan, smiling as I said it.  

He flipped me off.

“Tell Tristan I said hi,” she said.

“Bianca says hello,” I told Tristan, not liking his name on her lips, but tamping my outrageous jealousy down.  That jealousy would become a problem for us if I didn’t control it.  I understood that.  My need for us to work helped me to try to keep it to myself when I knew that it was unreasonable.

“I’ll be heading over there when I finish,” I told her.  “Are you about done?”  It didn’t really matter to me if she was.  I was impatient to see her, and I’d go and wait for her if necessary.  I hoped that she wasn’t getting tired of my company, because we’d only been apart for a few hours and already I was ravenous for the sight of her.  

I was picturing how I would take her in that little house when she answered.  “Yeah.  That should be perfect.”

I thought it would be perfect to fuck her one last time in that house, even if she was done packing.  I would bury myself inside of her wherever I happened to find her.  Maybe I would bend her over the kitchen counter, or take her on the dining room table.  I shook myself.  She’d put a spell on me, and I wouldn’t be free of it any time soon.  Or ever, I thought with a grin.  Mrs. Cavendish had such a lovely ring to it.

“Tristan is coming over for dinner tonight.  As if I’m not paying him enough to make rabbits disappear, now I have to make him dinner.”

“I have a new trick where I can make pretty boy CEOs disappear,” Tristan told me.  

Bianca laughed into my ear.  I loved that laugh. 

“Will you let the guys know that they’re invited, as well?” I asked, smiling.

“That sounds fun,” she said.  “I take it he got a favorable contract for next year’s shows.”

“He signed on for another year,” I said, looking at Tristan with a raised brow, “but we had to double the bastard’s pay.  Funny how soon he forgets just who discovered his sorry ass.”

Bianca had gone very quiet on the other end.  My whole body tensed, as if bracing for a blow and not knowing where that blow could come from.  I absently scratched at the scars on my wrists, my most nervous tell.  I thought I had trained myself out of the habit.  What was wrong with me today?

“Bianca?” I questioned.  I would be fine if I just heard her voice again.

“Hmm?  Oh, sorry,” she said, the new distance in her voice just making me more agitated.

“Love, is something the matter?” I asked.  

I stood and began to pace, unable to stand still.  “You sound upset.”

She didn’t respond for endless moments.  I was getting desperate when her voice sounded again.

“Blake!” she said, a clear thread of panic in her voice.  

No, I thought, my heart trying to pound out of my chest.

I swung around, my gaze finding Clark.  He was so good at reading me that he already had his phone out.  

“Police?” he asked.  

I nodded.  It could be nothing, but I didn’t give a fuck.  If it was something, the sooner they were on their way, the better.

“Bianca, what is it?” I tried.  “Is something wrong?  Talk to me, Love.”

An echoing bang on the other end of the line made my blood run cold.  Bianca gasped into my ear.  

No, I thought, and began to move.  

“Stay down, Bianca,” I heard Blake say on the other end.  “Don’t move, and whatever you do, don’t leave this house.  I’ll be right back.”

No.  A mean fist gripped my heart.

I could hear her breathing, but as I spoke and cajoled and pleaded with her to tell me what was going on, she refrained from speaking for long moments on the other end.  I recalled that terrible afternoon just months ago, watching the ambulance take her away, my heart in pieces as I waited in agony to see if she was okay.  

Clark fell into step behind me without a word as I strode through the offices and to the elevator.  I saw what floor it was on and took the stairs, not willing to wait, the phone still held to my ear.  I took the stairs down at a sprint.

“Tell me what’s going on, Bianca!” I tried again, tearing through the casino now.  “What was that noise?   Why did Blake tell you to stay down?  Where did she go?  I need to know what’s going on!”

Another loud shot sounded on her end of the line, and I died a little inside just hearing it.  

I tried my damnedest to sound calm, but it was a struggle.  “We’re on our way to you, Love, and we’ve put in a call to the police, but I need you to tell me what’s going on.  What was that noise?”  I was grasping at straws, I knew, hoping I had somehow heard an engine backfiring in the distance.  Twice…

“I love you, James,” she said very softly.  

It broke me, a feeling of helplessness and dread filling me.

“What’s happening over there?” I asked roughly.  I barely noticed that my voice broke on the words.  

Another gunshot sounded on her end, and she whimpered.  It wrecked me.  I wanted to clutch my chest and howl with the fear, but instead I ran, determined to get to her.

“I love you, James,” she said again.  The resignation in her voice wasn’t reassuring in the least.

Clark kept pace with me, and broke ahead as we reached the doors, talking frantically to the valet manager, procuring us a car with remarkable speed.  He got behind the wheel as I took the passenger’s seat.  He was peeling out before I could finish buckling in.

“Talk to me,” I told her desperately.  “I have to know what’s going on.  We’re in the car now.  We’ll be there in less than twenty minutes, but you need to talk to me.  What’s all that noise?”

Another shot sounded and I closed my eyes in dread.  “Are those gunshots?” I asked wretchedly.  I had never felt so helpless and worthless in my life.

“Yes,” she breathed.  “In my backyard, I think.  I’m scared, James.  I need you to tell me that you love me back.  Please.  Just in case.”

The starkest terror that I’d ever known gripped my chest.  I wasn’t a superstitious man, but I felt suddenly as though if I told her that now, it would be the last time, and I just couldn’t do it.  It was illogical, but I couldn’t make myself say the words again until I held her in my arms.  

“No,” I whispered, that brutal refusal making my chest ache.  “I’ll be right there.  Are all of your doors locked up?  Just stay hidden, and stay down.  You’re going to be fine, and I will be there so soon to tell you those words.”

She gasped suddenly, her breathing changing, as though she was moving.  Panic had me firmly in its grasp and I had to just listen futilely as two more shots sounded in the background.  Two ragged sobs escaped her throat as though torn from her.  

No, no, no, I thought.

“I love you, James,” she told me, her voice so steady now.  Somehow, that terrified me more than anything else had.  “So much.  I’m so sorry.”

I was yelling at her in a broken shout as she hung up on me.