Chapter 3
Three
GENEVIEVE
G enevieve flopped down on her and her mother’s purple-striped upholstery couch and slipped off her two-and-a-half-inch black heels with silver sparkling straps. She loved them because they went with everything, and she didn’t want to waste her income buying multiple unnecessary pairs of heels.
“Gen, is that you?”
“Hi, Momma.”
Her mom emerged from her bedroom, one of two in their standard single-level apartment. “I’m going to put the kettle on.” She trained her warm hazel eyes on Genevieve, swiping a short strand from her mushroom cut behind her ear. “Want some tea?”
“Sure, thanks.” Genevieve watched from the couch, a sense of contentment washing over her as her mom filled her chipped-up yellow kettle with water from the sink. They were safe in this tiny apartment for now. As long as that was the case, Genevieve considered them blessed. Expensive material things and surroundings were a second priority—they could be taken away, but that wasn’t the only reason they limited their possessions and rented a small place. It was easy in, easy out. If anyone, even resembling a clone of Jed or one of his men, sensed their trail, Genevieve would load her mom into their Toyota Camry and blast off.
Genevieve lifted her legs onto the sofa and sat criss-cross applesauce while her mom scooped tea leaves into a strainer. “Did you have a good day?”
“Very good, sweetheart. I like working with Tilda at the flower shop. She’s friendly.” Her mom slid her cylindrical canister of herbal mint into the cupboard amongst her other blends. “I’m glad I had to give up waiting tables. Arranging flowers is peaceful. I may not get the tips I used to, but with that job you’ve got working for Mr. King, it seems we’re fine.”
Genevieve cracked a faint smile. “We’re more than fine.”
Her mom had to stop waiting tables because they decided there was too much traffic in restaurants. What if someone from their past visited Aspen and recognized her mom? Or what if her mom was accidentally captured in a photo taken by a restaurant guest that was later posted on social media? But that all seemed kind of silly to worry about after Genevieve appeared on that ridiculously popular reality TV show. If Jed’s informant, Luke, ran their faces through a recognition search on the internet, he’d be much more likely to find Genevieve’s image from that show than a photo of her mom in someone else’s social media post.
Around the time Genevieve bolted from Reno, Luke had a facial recognition system installed at The Outlaw’s entry and exit points—Genevieve overheard him talking to Jed about how various problem customers would no longer be returning to the casino because he’d be able to alert their security guards within seconds. She’d let the details flow in one ear and out the other without much thought, having no plans to ever return to Reno. But for Luke to further utilize reverse image facial recognition searches to look for her face on the web? How was she supposed to defend against that ?
Hopefully, her streaming mass of wavy hair had concealed her recognizable round features and full, pouty lips during the few episodes she’d briefly appeared on. Every time a camera pointed her way, she’d dipped her head so her red-streaked strands would cascade like a veil. Thankfully, she hadn’t been an interesting enough contender for the directors to care much about capturing her face.
Genevieve rolled her neck in meditating circles, willing her muscles to relax as she melted into her mom’s heap of knitted throw cushions. She needed to stop tensing up at every unidentifiable sound and glancing over her shoulder like a stalker was on her tail when she left a room. Jed would have found her by now if he could have. Perhaps he’d given up? Genevieve sighed. Who was she kidding? Nothing stopped Marshal.
Still fumbling about in the kitchen, her mom eyed her forced smile with concern. How did she do that? Mother’s intuition or some kind of special daughter-radar, she supposed. Genevieve’s abdomen pulsed with a hint of laughter as she imagined an invisible radar gun shooting an auto-tuned beam at her from her mom’s sharp mind, and the fluttering sensation stimulated a rush of endorphins she hadn’t experienced in days. Perhaps she’d been a bit of a hypocrite telling Mr. King he should laugh more often when it had been oh so long since she’d laughed freely herself.
“Now, Gen, you need to stop worrying. If we have to leave, we have to. We’ll find a new town.” Her mom let out a loud huff as her tea kettle whistled. “Ugh, that man. Why can’t the Reno police put him behind bars?” She turned off the burner and moved her kettle to a nearby trivet.
Genevieve adjusted one of her mom’s fluffy cushions—knitted with two adorable kittens batting at a ball of yarn—behind her head and kneaded her temple. “We’ve been over this, Momma. His connections run too deep. There are crooks upon crooks covering his tracks. Too many people want in on his dealings—they want the easy money.” She hissed out a breath. “And all these poor people using and abusing illegal drugs to the detriment of themselves. If I could have a superpower, it would be to eliminate all banned substances from the world.”
A frustrated sigh erupted from her mom. “Or the superpower to go back in time and never have met that man.”
“I wish. If only I’d known what Jed was before he got his hooks into me.” Gritting her teeth, Genevieve pounded her fists against the soft cushions. “And you having to change your life too—it’s so unfair. I’m tired of us hiding, jumping, running…shaking in our boots. I wish I could take him down. There are so many things I wish…”
“I just don’t understand why you can’t go to the head of the Reno police. Or the FBI? I know you keep telling me that it’s risky, but?—”
“Who would believe me? With all the warrants and people in his corner?” Genevieve shook her head. “Jed would maneuver to have me locked up until I agree to his twisted terms and then only released under his thumb, and if he gets his hands on me again, he’ll make me marry him.”
“ What? ”
Genevieve squeezed her eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have told you that. Now you’ll worry.”
Her mom entered the living room with two brown steaming mugs of fragrant minty tea and placed them on coasters on the coffee table. She planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Tell me now, Genevieve Roxanne Hart.”
“No real names, Momma! Anyone could be listening.”
“Oh, hocus pocus.” Her mom pointed her index finger at her. “I’m your mother, and you will not keep important details from me to spare my worries. I’m already worried sick, and my worries won’t stop until you get your life back. ”
Genevieve puffed out her cheeks, releasing a loud whoosh of air. “He threatened me with marriage before I ran—when I wouldn’t commit. That’s why he slapped me”—she chopped the side of her hand into her palm—“with fraud and had his corrupt connections in the police follow through without an investigation. He’ll gladly have me put manipulatively behind bars, only willing to spring my release if I agree to marry him.”
“And then do what about the fraud now connected to him through you? The warrants he found a way to anchor you with? The arrest warrant, the bench warrant, the search?—”
“He’ll snap his fingers and make them go away. He’ll clear my name if I play his dear little obedient wife and have his kids.” Genevieve poked her finger down her throat and made a gagging noise. “As if I’d ever marry a corrupt man. I can’t believe I dated him for so long and was completely clueless as to his side hustles. I mean, I knew the casino wasn’t exactly an honest business, but drugs… I can’t stand behind that.” She buried her face in her hands, tears threatening to spill over.
“You should have told me about his marriage threat. Of course it’s stressing you out and bottling it up does no good. You need to talk about these things, Gen. Get them out in the open. You need to trust people. The right kind of people. Me, but others, too. You can’t shelter your struggles from those who truly care about you.”
“I didn’t want you to worry, so I didn’t tell you everything. I’m sorry,” Genevieve whispered through her fingers. “You know what’s really bad?”
Her mom eased by her side and started rubbing circles across her back with her loving hand. “Nothing is as bad as it seems, sweetheart. We’ll find a way.” Frown lines crinkled her face. “Even if it means running forever.”
Genevieve groaned. “This is bad.” She sniffled, swallowing through a lump in her throat. “Before I found out how corrupt he was, I was falling in love with him. Jed made me feel like a queen. I was addicted to his powerful, passionate attention. He’d order others aside when I entered a room. How do you resist a man who puts you on a pedestal? At least until you figure out that he’s not who you thought he was. How do you know when it’s real ?”
Her mom embraced her in a warm hug and then shifted back, holding her eyes as she spoke. “You look for a man willing to make sacrifices for you. Incredibly selfless sacrifices—actions that are not necessarily best for him but that are best for you. When both people begin doing that in a relationship, it’s real. I only know because of your father.”
Genevieve nodded while a tear pooled over and trickled down her cheek. “I wish I’d been old enough to remember how you treated each other before we lost him. Instead, I discovered the hard way that I was too green to understand what true love is. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years since I met Jed. I feel like I know too much about his greasy dealings now—too much to do anything but run, and for whatever reason, he wants me . He’s not a man who changes his mind. His people are like property ”—her voice broke on the word—“to him.”
Her mom gently grasped her chin, rubbing away her tears with her other hand. “Gen, only you control you—no one else. You’re smarter than this Jed. You’re warmer…you’re kinder…your father and I chose your name because it’s thought to mean ‘woman of the family.’ He knew his cancer would overtake him with time, and he talked about the strength in you, even in my womb. You kicked like you were willing to fight your way into this challenging world. Don’t lose your fight, Genevieve. There’s no reason you can’t take this man down and his whole network. All you have to do is cut off the head of the snake.”
Genevieve’s throat clogged with emotion. “I love you, Momma. ”
“I love you too.” Her mom’s aged features lit up. “Always, Gen.”
Ring. Ring. Ring . Genevieve jumped, and a thousand tiny prickles peppered her tan skin. Their apartment’s landline rattled on their kitchen’s brown-and-white quartz countertop.
Genevieve closed her eyes and drew in a shallow breath. “Another cold call. Gosh, it would be nice if we could block telemarketers. Every time, I fear it’s him .” She flopped down and rested her head against another one of her mom’s cushions—this one knitted with a pattern of a robin in the snow.
Thirty seconds later… Ring. Ring. Ring .
“It’s him.” Genevieve pierced her bottom lip with her teeth until she drew blood as the phone rings vibrated off the white apartment walls. “We’ve never had two consecutive calls. It’s definitely him.”
“You don’t know that, Gen.”
Genevieve nodded as more tears slipped out from the corners of her eyes. “Yes, I do. It was only a matter of time.” She glanced at their standard black cordless phone rattling on its charging station with determination and brushed her tears aside. “You’re right. I need to cut off the head of the snake. I can’t keep living like this.” One last desperate glance at her mom, and she added, “Do whatever they tell you to do. It’ll take me time to end this.”
“That’s the way, Gen. End it. End him if you have to.”
“Momma!” Genevieve gasped.
“I mean it.” Her mom brushed some brown and red strands off Genevieve’s face and cupped her cheek, looking at her fiercely. “And don’t go it alone. Find an ally. No one in this world is worse off if they rely on the right people.”
Genevieve squeezed her mom in a tight embrace, hoping the next time she saw her, it wouldn’t be while giving in to Marshal’s demands. “You’re so full of good advice.”
“I’ve been around the block. Losing your dad was like losing myself. I had to push through, get up, and live on. Live for me, sweetheart. Live for me.” Her mom clutched Genevieve’s hands. “If Marshal thinks he’s the law, then take the law into your own hands.”
Genevieve huffed out an impassioned laugh at her mom’s clever words. “Okay, Momma, I’ll live for you. I won’t die under Marshal’s thumb.”
“That’s right, you won’t.” Her mom grasped her arm before she pivoted toward the kitchen. “Find an ally, Gen. Right away! And don’t feel guilty about it.”
With a quick nod, Genevieve walked to the phone and picked up the rattling receiver. She gulped through her dry throat. “Yes?”
“Hi, Genevieve.” His possessive, commanding tone crept up her spine, bringing back a flood of heated moments. “I’ve missed you. More than I thought I would. Just to hear your sweet voice. Say something else for me.”
Genevieve’s hand shook as she tightened her grip on the receiver, but she held her voice firm. “Marshal, how can I help you?”
“Knew I’d find you, did you?” He let out a clever-sounding chuckle like he’d won the jackpot at every casino in Reno. “Marshal? To you, I’m Jed and only Jed. A man’s woman should use his first name, don’t you think? Even when no one else is allowed. I’m yours, and you are mine .”
Play the game…for now . “ Jed , how can I help you?”
“Aah…there it is. My name coming off your sweet lips in that sultry voice. So intimate. Good girl.” After a deliberate pause, he drawled out, “I’m not happy with your impulsive decision to run off, my little dove.”
Her knees went weak, and she braced her shoulder against the wall. Would she be trapped in Jed’s web forever now that he’d found her? “Sorry about that. I just got cold feet.”
“How are your feet now? ”
She raised her chin, if only for the confidence to not back down. “You tell me.” Was she playing the game yet? Even she didn’t know.
“They better be warming up. In the interest of saving time and getting you into my arms, I’ll lay out my terms.” He paused long enough that her stomach dropped. “Listening, little dove?”
“Loud and clear.”
“That’s my girl.” Another pause. “Two of my best security guards will be watching over your mom noon to night. There is no moving her out from under my nose, so don’t try. Momma Dear is to stay in Aspen until you utter the words ‘I do,’ sign a legal document that says you’re my wife, and promise you’ll stay by my side. Your mom will then be free to do as she wishes. She can move to Reno into a mother-in-law suite, stay in Aspen, or whatever she wants. Understood?”
“Yes.”
“However, if you so much as move a toe out of line, I’ll move Momma Dear to The Outlaw, and she’ll remain under my watchful eye until you agree to my terms. Is this necessary?”
“No.” Genevieve swallowed and slammed her lids shut, bracing the side of her cheek against the splatter-textured paint. “But just out of curiosity, Jed ?—”
Jed groaned. “I know you’re playing with me, dove, but damn, I love it all the same. You want to speak my name in jest, go ahead.”
“Speaking of playing…” Genevieve glanced toward her apartment window. Could they run now ? “What if I refuse? You know, I decide to be disobedient regardless of whether you have my mom?”
“Then on to plan B. I’ll call in your warrants and have the police take you to the slammer until you beg me to come get you. Then I’ll stand outside the metal bars until our marriage contract is official and you’ve stated your vows to me”—he darkened his tone—“vows that will be much more intense than what I’m asking of you now, so don’t make me go there.”
She sucked in a tense breath, hating that she gave herself away. “More intense? Not related to my mom?—”
“Not to worry, my sweet dove—if it comes to that, I will not permanently keep you from your mother, nor will I harm her. If I harm her, then I lose your heart, and that won’t do.”
You’ve already lost my heart .
“But be warned, Genevieve,”—he slowed his voice, edging it with a silky tone—“I will get what I want, so why play me? Why not just take the easy road and tuck yourself into my willing arms without a fight? I love you, and you know it. I won’t stop until you concede to be mine.”
She clenched her teeth. Was he insane? He’d become even bolder, creepier, and more conceited than when they’d dated. If overplayed, could she use those weaknesses against him? Genevieve had never taken him on before—she’d just been agreeable until she’d bolted. What would Jed do if pressed? The more she could learn about his reactions, the better.
A spark surged through her, and she added an edge to her voice. “You don’t know what love is.”
Jed tsked. “Careful, dove. Say what you like but be prepared for the consequences. I won’t be disrespected.” After a long pause, he sighed as if she had yet to understand how things would be between them. “Your resistance won’t deter me, and you’ll just make this more difficult on yourself if you do. Apologize.”
Apologize. Really? He was taking things to a whole new level. Genevieve pounded her head against the wall, vibrating a ladle her mom had hanging on a metal hook. Still hoping for a chance to escape, she didn’t want to put Jed’s guard up. So while her gut churned in revolt, she forced, “I’m sorry, Jed. Please forgive me for questioning you,” from her tight lips .
Another groan. “Keep responding like that, and you’ll have me wrapped around your finger for life.”
What a warped mind game. His idea of her having him wrapped around her finger was that she first be wrapped compliantly around his . How had she ever loved this man?
Genevieve gripped the phone so hard she thought she might crack the plastic. “How did you find me?”
“I will always find you, my dove, but given that you clearly weren’t ready to be caught, you never should have gone onto that show. You’re too smart for that.”
“I am. You’re right.”
“Why did you?”
She sighed. Why lie? He’d know if she did anyway. “I had a hard time finding a job using a fake identity. The man who finally hired me asked me to go on the show with him so he could help out a friend. I didn’t want to lose my only chance at a decent wage. Momma and I had no car, no cash left…no way to even buy a bus ticket. In short, we badly needed the money.”
He clicked his tongue. “Did you learn your lesson? You are not free to do as you please without me. Leave me, and I’ll make your life a living hell. Marry me, and you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again, least of all money. I’ll buy you anything you want.”
Without freedom, who truly gave a damn about money? Nothing mattered except cutting off the head of the snake. Enough is enough!
Genevieve glanced at her mom, locking onto her warm, anxious eyes. Her sound words repeated through her mind. Find an ally! Should Genevieve get Mr. King involved? No, that wasn’t fair. She didn’t have any right to mess up his life.
“You have forty-eight hours to appear in my casino by my side. If you’re not standing next to me by then, Momma Dear will be moved under my watchful eye, and you will not see her again until you comply with my terms. Don’t make me upset you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Jed.”
His breath hitched. “Damn, I love to hear those two intelligent words come from your lips, dove. The more you use them, the happier you’ll be.”
She wrapped an arm around her waist. OMG, projectile vomit!
“Now, drive that red Camry of yours this way.”
The blood drained from her face, and she whimpered involuntarily. Of course they were already here. They’d probably been taking surveillance for days. Jed might be crazy, but he wasn’t dumb. In some ways, he was probably smarter than Mr. King—certainly more seasoned.
“Problem, dove?” His voice turned mock-playful. “You weren’t thinking of running off again, were you?”
Her jaw tensed. “Of course not.”
Jed snickered. “I won’t be lied to either, but we both know you are, so I’ll let it go this time.”
Genevieve rolled her eyes. Lucky me . Her grip tightened on the cheap plastic until her fingers turned white. Don’t say it. Don’t say it . “I was being sarcastic, Marshal, not lying.”
“Oh, dove. Couldn’t hold your tongue, huh? If that’s how you want to phrase it, then defying me under the pretense of sarcasm isn’t acceptable either.”
“So you’d prefer I lie to you?”
“No,” he said so calmly it sent a shockwave of chills rippling through her. “Lying will get you into even more trouble. I’d prefer you come to terms with the fact that you’ll be happier on my side; then, there’s no reason to lie or spit useless sarcasm at me. Jesting with me is fine, dove, but only to be playful. Understood?”
“Yes, Jed ,” Genevieve seethed through her teeth, edging his name with fury. Did he really think she’d roll over now that she understood his true colors?
“All this sassy defiance aimed at me.” He chuckled menacingly. “This is new. What to do, what to do. I’ll have to think on that. In the meantime, I’ll ask that you aim that opposing attitude at anyone other than me unless you’d like to discover what I come up with. I love your spice, dove, but in line with mine.” Another deliberate pause, and he continued, “Now, back to the Camry. Your mother won’t be needing it anytime soon. As long as you cooperate, my men will drive her anywhere she wishes to go. Understood?”
Genevieve pinched the bridge of her nose, wishing she could defy him again—as he so offputtingly defined it. Would it encourage him if she did? Her unsettled stomach churned as she thought through his responses. Did he get off on her compliance? On controlling her? She turned the receiver away from her mouth, pulling air in sharply as she coiled an arm around her middle. Had he always been like this, but she’d been too lovestruck to care? She slowed her breathing, letting the cool air flow deep down into her lungs, attempting to calm herself enough to finish their twisted conversation.
His voice dropped in a warning. “Don’t make me wait for the words, dove.”
“Yes, Jed,” she forced out in an even tone. “I understand.”
“There you go. That’s better. You’re learning. Now, on to my plans for you. One of my top men will escort you to my side, so if you’re thinking of trying anything, don’t. He’s stronger than an ox, faster than a lion, and smarter than he looks. You won’t best him with any plan you have brewing in that quick-witted mind of yours. Oh, and my dove,”—he paused—“don’t be late. Forty-eight hours or you’ll wish you didn’t keep me waiting.”
The phone clicked off, and Genevieve held it to her ear, frozen in place as she listened to the buzzing signal. Several loud knocks on the door, and she slammed the phone down, adrenaline pulsing through her. What a waste of adrenaline! She couldn’t take advantage of it with Jed’s thugs at the door. So much for her hopeful plan to run, but deep down, she’d already known Jed would be staged and ready, paging his men to enter their apartment the second he ended the call. After years of practice, his every move was deliberate. She never should have dated a man fourteen years her senior straight out of college when she was so gullible and fresh to the world. But would Jed have taken no for an answer?
Genevieve flung open their apartment door and let three men—a tall one, a bodybuilder-like one, and a stocky one—enter without a fight. Now was not the time. She didn’t look any of them over too closely. They were all just muscle with empty brains, except perhaps whichever one Jed had just praised, but she had the smarts to take him on—just perhaps not with three warrants ready to put her away.
Her mom grabbed their extendable feather duster out of the coat closet and whapped each of the men upside the head while they all stared at her as if they didn’t know what to do.
“Fuck, you’re Roxy?” the stockiest man asked, dodging her and rubbing his temple. “The one Marshal says Genevieve calls Momma?”
“That’s right, you scum.”
The tall guy glared at her mom like she was a rare foreign substance. “Too bad the boss says we can’t lay a finger on you unless you try to run.”
“He did, did he? Good to hear.” Roxy resumed her aggressive pummeling with her duster until the bodybuilder guy ripped it out of her hand.
The bodybuilder flashed his teeth. “Enough of that.” He turned to face Genevieve, pointing first at her and then himself. “You and I will leave in the morning.” Swiveling to face his two less-impressive followers, he added, “Bryson, Zeek, the three of us will sleep on the floor tonight, me here in the entryway to block the front door and the two of you guarding the sliding door in the back. Marshal wants Ms. Genevieve and I driving his way at first light, so I suggest you get some sleep so you can look after Roxy.”
Her mom ruffled back through the coat closet, grabbed a broom, and tried to whap the bodybuilder’s broad shoulders. “Don’t you dare tell my daughter what to do. She’ll do as she damn well pleases.”
The bodybuilder swiped the broom out of her mom’s hands like he was a trained warrior, and her mom was as harmless as a baby bird. Damn, he was fast, but he also had strict instructions not to harm them.
Genevieve beamed a sly grin. If her mom could fight, she could too. And she would—when the time was right.