Chapter 40
FORTY
SHAE
M y eyes burn like I’ve been staring at the sun too long, dry and achy. Leaning away from the iMac screen, I take off the useless blue-blocking glasses and rub my tired eyes. I’d sent Melissa home hours ago, around nine p.m., so it’s just me and the two guards I’ve been assigned.
The amount of work that crops up like a damn weed with every layer I pull back on Zane’s deceit has me angry beyond belief. The depth of his thievery, the kickbacks he received from investors not to work with their competitors, the money siphoned off from grant initiatives….
I can’t believe I was so blind.
When will you learn, Shae?
The room is quiet, so it’s loud when one of the men’s stomachs growls audibly in my office. I glance at the corner sitting area.
What were their names? Bakari and Darren?
I risk eyestrain again to look at the clock on my computer.
“Hey, it’s past midnight. I have about thirty minutes’ worth of work left,” I say. “Why don’t you go to the canteen and grab a snack? There are some vending machines down there.”
The only thing left is the file transfer I’m waiting to finish. Apparently, it’s a fuckload of files.
Bakari makes a low sound I think contains words, but I don’t catch what he says. Nonetheless, when his stomach growls again, I give him a long look and tell him, “Fine. I’m going to the break room and I’ll be right back.”
“Wait, Ms. Rivers,” Darren says, and I wave him off.
“I really need to stretch my legs anyway. I promise it’s okay.” Darren and Bakari share a look.
“I promise not to tell your boss,” I tease, and their faces remain unchanging. “Look, it’s literally down the hall. I’m within view if you lean out my door.”
“All right,” Darren says right when Bakari’s stomach grumbles again.
The office is deserted, which I’m grateful for because the relative silence helps me feel safe enough to deflate.
After all the grandstanding I did at the board meeting, it’s been non-stop work ever since.
Luckily, I had Melissa to take much of the load, but there was a lot of data to pull from Zane’s devices, and even more to match up with the underground stuff Melissa already found.
I walk into the canteen, which has long, thin rails of undercabinet lighting illuminating the room.
The tall, glass-faced fridge where I have grab-and-go meals and drinks stocked for the staff stands ready in the corner. It looks like the service has been by recently, so I lean over to examine the turkey sandwiches versus the chef’s salads.
Slam.
I jump about three feet in the air, immediately stepping back to get a line of sight down the hall toward my office. Bakari steps out, nodding in my direction.
“You okay in there?” he calls out. I look around at the empty canteen.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice still shaking. Jesus, get a grip. It was probably a box falling or something.
“I’m gonna check it out,” Darren says, and Bakari moves to where I can see him, waiting for me to return to the office.
My stomach growls.
Get a snack, finish the file transfer, then get the hell home.
Guilt at having hours lapse since messaging Storm feels like a visceral ache.
Yes. I want to get home. I want to take a long soak, curl up in Storm’s arms, and fall into deep sleep until the morning. He told me the date with Tempest went well, and he sent me a picture of them eating pizza together, tomato sauce smeared over my daughter’s face.
Everything is great. So…does that mean I’m ready for the next step?
My stomach growls again, as if answering my unspoken question with a, Yes, girl. Get your fill.
I pivot back to the case and grab three sandwiches and three Vitamin Waters, tucking everything into my arms. I try not to feel ridiculous as I scamper back to my office like a child running to get under the covers so the monsters won’t eat them after turning off a light.
Bakari and I don’t look at each other as we eat, and I hold my sandwich in one hand and move my computer mouse in the other. Darren comes from examining the noise, making a beeline for the sandwich.
“Carpet cleaning crew,” he says between big bites. “They come at this time of night, so the floors are dry in time for morning.”
My shoulders drop. See? Nothing to be so damn jumpy about.
Yeah. I need some damn sleep.
“Ah, I see. Thanks for checking,” I say. Bakari grunts and finishes his sandwich in four bites and under a minute.
It takes a while longer, but the files finally finish transferring. Scooping up my bags, I shut down my computer.
“Thanks so much, guys,” I say sleepily. Both men grunt at me, and we make our way to the exit. That’s when my mom bladder hits.
“Um,” I say, cringing at making them wait any longer than necessary. “Quick bathroom break.”
They share a look but then nod. I rush into the centralized restroom, going to the first open stall in the long row.
Right when I sit down to do my business, I get a text, and I can tell it’s from Storm by the ringtone. It’s Drunk in Love , because I’m sentimental like that.
Okay, I’m trying to be cool, but I need to see your face, Sweetness. I miss you, and I’m having withdrawals.
He follows this text with a Dave Chappelle meme, the one where he’s playing Tyrone Biggums, scratching his neck while feening.
I chuckle, finishing peeing, and throw my phone back in my bag before flushing the toilet. I’ll text him when I’m in the car. Or, better yet, I’ll greet him with some head to soothe the sting of denial.
Washing my hands and looking into the mirror, I know I look tired from the bags under my bloodshot eyes, but I’m also smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
This is love, and it feels good.
I turn off the taps, and then?—
Flick.
The bathroom plunges into darkness, but before I can scream, before I can panic, before I can do any fucking thing, there’s a hand clamped over my mouth in a bruising grip and something sharp pressed to my spine.
“Don’t scream, and I’ll let you get out of this building alive.”
Zane ?
My thoughts scramble, fear causing me to resist instinctively. I try to move my lips, but he slapped what feels like duct tape over my mouth when he covered it.
“Ah, ah, Liv,” Zane grates, and I suck in a sharp breath when the knife pierces the flesh at my side. Tears spring to my eyes with pain, and I release a muffled yell.
Oh, God!
“Liv,” Zane says, drawing the knife up my side and to my neck in a shallow cut. “Do you want to die, baby girl?”
He presses the knife to my throat, right where my racing blood threatens to spill at the smallest slip of his hand.
“No,” I choke out from behind his hand and the tape.
“Good,” he grates out, and I hate the fact that I’m so fucking short. He has several inches on me now that I’ve changed my heels for Crocs.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go out the other end and down to the garage. From there, we’re gonna take a little ride. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
There’s no fucking way he’ll get me off this property, but I can’t see shit in the dark, and I need the advantage of light.
I go still, and he takes that as my acquiescence, because he begins to drag me out of the bathroom on the opposite side of where I entered.
Zane had to have planned this. When we hit the hall, the sound of carpet cleaners is close enough to be loud but not close enough that we’ll be seen by anyone.
We’re right across from the stairs, and when we enter the stairwell, he pulls my bag off my shoulder, tossing it over the railing so it takes a long fall down the nine floors to hit the basement.
While I stand there in shock, he takes the two seconds I freeze to grab the pair of zip ties he clearly placed before ambushing me and secures my hands behind my back.
Then he jams the lock on the door.
Fuck. What can I do?
My eyes burn now from rage, fury, and I know one thing, I know I’ll figure out some way to get out of this.
Even if I have to kill Zane myself.
We run down the stairs, and he slams my body into the wall at each turn.
“Come the fuck on, Liv. I know you can keep up,” he drawls. “Remember, I’ve seen that tight ass of yours.”
God, I’m gonna throw up behind the tape.
Still, we go round and round so fast I get dizzy, and before I know it, we’re in the basement exit to the garage. I look at my crushed purse and shattered phone with enraged longing.
When the muggy garage air hits my face, heavy with the smell of gasoline and tire rubber, it’s like a shot of adrenaline. The sedan Zane pulls me toward already has the trunk ajar, as if he plans on throwing me in there.
And fuck no.
I quickly survey my surroundings, noting the exits and searching for any possible weapons—not that I have the ability to use anything with my hands tied behind my back. The plan becomes clearer as the distance between me and the car grows smaller.
“All right, Liv, in you go,” he says, grabbing me by the hair and using his opposite hand to lift the tailgate.
It’s now or never .
Taking in a deep breath to help me sprint, I lift my leg….
…and slam the heel of it down on top of his foot. He howls, and I thank the Lord above that he chose to wear tennis shoes. He curls at the waist as a reflex, and I spin when he releases my hair and knee him in the balls.
Now run, bitch!
I sprint toward the exit, licking frantically at the adhesive at the seam of my lips in hopes it will weaken the grip. Even though muffled, I scream as loud as I can.
“Help! Fire!” I scream, even though the words are indecipherable.
Right as I turn the bend to go up the empty ramp, I power through my thighs, aiming for the wide-open exit and the street beyond it.
Just get to the street, Shae.
My heart races, my stomach clenches as I try to regain the balance I’ve lost with my center of gravity thrown off by my arms around my back.
My sore throat screams along with the sound coming from my body, and right when I think I might get free, the bottom falls out of the world.
I fly through the air, my feet kicked out from under me, and land on my side with a thud.
“Fucking hell, Liv!” Zane hisses.
“Ow!” I screech. He wraps my long hair around his fist, dragging me up by his grip on the roots.
“This is your fucking problem—you think you’re stronger than you are,” he grits out, frog-marching me back down the ramp and toward his car. My side throbs where he cut me, amplified by my fall.
“You think you’re so smart, Liv, like you can outthink, outmaneuver anyone, but guess what? You’re not that fucking smart!”
We get a few feet from the trunk, and he whirls around to push me to the ground and backhand me on the cheek. Without my hands, I fall to the side from the force.
I can barely think, barely breathe.
“God, that felt good!” he gloats, grabbing me by the hair again, pulling so tight I fear my scalp might be bleeding.
“I thought I’d get you to fall in love with me, get married, and then, maybe plan a little accident for you and your little bastard children.
Then, I would have inherited everything, owned Orisun outright, and not have to worry about you or your bossy, bitchy ass ever again. ”
He wrenches my head back, and with tears streaming down my face, I try to kill him purely from my hatred.
“But then that asshole had to come back, and I knew the opportunity had passed. You had to go ruin everything, Liv. Everything. ” He shakes my head at the last word, pulling me back up by my hair.
I’m so overwhelmed, spinning like a top from pain and information overload, that when he pushes me into the trunk, I barely resist.
“You fucked the plan, Liv, but I have someone who’s gonna fix it. I just gotta bring you along for the ride.”
And with that, he slams the trunk closed.