Chapter 25 Selene #2
Monique frowns. “What?! Of course, they’ll want you, Selene. Those girls are obsessed with you. They talk about you, Cal and Beck all the time. I don’t think there’s anything you could do to change that.”
“Except disappear for days with no explanation.”
“Sel, Isis and Imani are smart girls. They are aware of what’s happening right now. The hunt for Leland and his obsession with you are all anyone is talking about. I’m sure they’re more worried about you than anything else.”
Despite the strength of her conviction, I struggle to accept her reassurance. The guilt and anxiety are just too much for Monique to break through. I still thank her, though, accepting her reassuring smile and allowing her to set the pace as we resume our walk.
“I assume Cal and Beck are on the same page as you?”
“Yes. Beck said he even talked to his therapist about it.”
She fans herself with her hand, swooning. “A Black man in therapy, we love to see it.”
I shake my head, exhausted from her silliness and the walk.
We’re nearing the patio now, and I’m deciding if I should grab a seat next to Cal and convince him to use the grill for the chicken he has marinating in the fridge for dinner tonight or do another lap with Mo when I notice Beck stepping outside with the laptop in hand.
His brows are furrowed, and there’s a grim tilt to his lips that makes continuing the walk a distant thought. Monique follows me up onto the teak wood deck, both of us pausing opposite the men.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
Beck turns the computer to me, showing me the digital monitoring app. It takes a moment for me to realize the messages displayed on the screen are coming from my phone. There’s one text selected, and the content of it shocks me just as much as the name of the sender.
Jordan St. James: I need to see you.
We argue for what feels like hours about whether it’s safe for me to meet with Jordan.
Monique is team, do whatever the hell gets us out of this house and back to our lives quicker while Cal and Beck are steadfast in their refusal to entertain the idea for even a second.
They each make their points known while I listen intently, allowing them all to speak even though I knew what I was going to do the moment I saw the text.
“This is a bad idea,” Cal says, pressing the button to open the gate and allow Jordan through.
Beck volunteered to meet her on the road and inspect her vehicle, so now he’s in her backseat.
I’m almost certain he has a gun pointed at her even though the video footage doesn’t allow me to see that much.
“The meeting or the location?” I ask, leaning against the wall near the front door.
“Both,” he mutters as he flips the deadbolt.
“We need to know what she has to say, Cal.”
“We also need to keep you safe.”
“She is safe,” Monique reminds him from her spot inside the grand arch that leads into the main living area. There’s a flare of agitation lacing her words. “Beck searched the car. He confirmed that no one else is in the vehicle–”
Cal grimaces. “Besides Sam Granger.”
“What’s that about anyway?”
“I don’t know, Selene. I think they’re sleeping together, but I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now except that bringing them here was a bad fucking idea.”
“Hey.” I close the space between us, taking his chin between my fingers. “You’re scared. I get that. You’re allowed to be scared. You’re allowed to be whatever you need to be in this moment, but you are not allowed to take any of that out on me.”
Remorse softens the hard lines of his expression. He closes his eyes, pushing out a breath that’s meant to soothe him but calms me too. “I’m sorry.”
I steal a kiss from his lips as the headlights of Jordan’s car send streams of light passing through the windows of the foyer.
Cal urges me to step back, and I don’t argue, taking up residence at Monique’s side.
When Beck knocks on the door using the specific cadence he and Cal came up with, she reaches for my hand, an irrational wave of fear thrumming through each of us.
My heart smacks against my rib cage as Cal cocks his gun with one hand and pulls open the door with the other, and I nearly pass out from relief when I see that everything is as it should be.
Beck is at the back with his gun out and plenty of distance between him and the rest of the unlikely trio. Jordan and Sam are in front, and she throws her hands up when she finds herself staring down the barrel of another weapon.
“I don’t think the guns are necessary,” Sam says, hands raised in surrender. “We’re not here to hurt anyone. We want to help.”
Since Jordan is already staring at me, I step forward. “You’ve spent years in Aubrey’s corner, lying and scheming right alongside him. Why should I believe you’re ready to turn on him now?”
Suddenly, she’s not afraid of the gun anymore.
She shoves past Cal, ignoring all three men as they shout for her to stop.
I hold a hand up to calm them, almost certain she means me no harm.
Jordan stops just a few feet away from me and Monique, and I don’t realize she’s wearing a turtleneck in this August heat until she reaches for her collar, hands trembling as she yanks it down to reveal angry red marks around her throat.
Her eyes shine with unshed tears that emphasize the ruptured blood vessels, and when she speaks, her voice is nothing more than a hoarse rasp. “Because the bastard tried to have me killed.”
The revelation should change something for me.
It should make me less skeptical or at the very least sympathetic, but as I stare at Jordan, I feel nothing more than the faint twinges of satisfaction that come from seeing someone get what they deserve.
She is not a victim. She is not an ally.
She’s a minnow who got dropped into the ocean and found out she wasn’t a shark.
I don’t feel bad for her, but I will hear her out.
“Let’s talk in here.”
Everyone follows me through the house, and when I take a seat at the head of the table, Jordan choose the one to my left while Monique takes the one to my right. Cal and Beck remain standing, keeping a close eye on Sam, who’s on his feet as well, rubbing Jordan’s shoulders.
“Do you have any tea?” he asks. “Talking hurts her throat.”
“This isn’t a social call, Granger,” Beck growls.
He starts to defend his request, but Jordan lays her hand over his. “It’s okay, Sam. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ve survived worse,” Monique quips.
Jordan dips her chin. “I deserved that.”
“You did,” I confirm. “But I’m not interested in what you deserve, I’m interested in what you know and whether you have any proof to back it up.”
“Of course I have proof. I’ve recorded every meeting I’ve had with Aubrey from the day we met up until he fired me four days ago”
“Where are they?”
“Some place safe. I wanted to talk to you before I handed them over.”
My mind begins to race at the mere thought of what could be in those files. Impatience becomes a nagging pain at the back of my skull that has me blurting out words instead of listening.
“We already know everything,” I tell her.
“Aubrey and Cordelia are in bed with a man named Phineas Gambit who is using his money and influence, and a whole lot of coercion, to ensure that his construction company makes a shit ton of money off of government contracts. Gambit is a psychopath who eliminates weak links without a second thought which is why he sent one of his men to kill you when you fell apart during the press conference.” I tilt my head to the side. “How am I doing so far?”
She swallows and then winces in pain. “You know more than I thought you did, but that’s not everything.”
“It’s everything that matters.”
“No.” Jordan shakes her head, emerald eyes wide and imploring. “No, Selene. If you knew everything that mattered, you wouldn’t be here building a case; you wouldn’t be looking for proof to have Aubrey impeached and arrested. You’d be figuring out how to get away with his murder.”