Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series)
Read Annihilate Me (Vol. 3) (The Annihilate Me Series) Online
Authors: Christina Ross
For my
dear friends.
And my family.
And especially for my fans.
Thank you for reading Jennifer and Alex’s
story.
Copyright and Legal Notice:
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use one of these terms. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by
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information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the
author.
First ebook edition © 2013.
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any similarity
to persons living or dead (unless explicitly noted) is merely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 Christina Ross. All rights reserved worldwide.
This book begins with the two final chapters of
Annihilate
Me, Vol. 2
, to remind readers of where we left off… for key reasons.
Enjoy!
ANNIHIL
ATE ME
Vol. 3
By Christina Ross
CHAPTER ONE
New York City
September
When we left the party after an intimate
waltz, during which Immaculata made it a point to step away from her date and
openly watch us, Alex texted his driver on the elevator ride down, and then he
pressed me against one of the walls.
It was a long drop to the lobby, and he used every second of it to run
his hands along my body before he knelt before me, lifted my dress, and kissed
my sex.
“In about fifteen minutes, I’m going to
lick you here,” he said, kissing me on the spot where he was going to lick
me.
“And here.
And maybe here where you’re already
wet.
In fact, I will go
there.
And my tongue is definitely
going in there.”
He looked up at
me.
“But why wait fifteen minutes
when I can have you now?”
In a flash, he turned around and pressed a
button that stopped the elevator.
Likely knowing he didn’t have much time before an alarm sounded, he fell
back on his knees, lifted my dress, pulled down my panties, and covered me with
his mouth.
His tongue pressed
against my folds and swirled around them for a moment before he entered me with
his tongue.
I gasped at the
sensation and instinctively reached out a hand, put it on the back of his head,
and pulled him closer to me.
As risky as this was, none of it felt
wrong.
I looked above us for a
camera tucked within one of the corners, but I didn’t see any.
Not that I cared much.
I was with Alex Wenn.
What was anyone going to say or do to us
for what he was doing to me now?
I ran my hand through his hair, and
whimpered as he brought me closer to the edge.
I could feel his breath hot against my thighs while he
eagerly and successfully tried to please me.
I thought about the letter he wrote to me and how he said
that he was in love with me.
And
despite confusing this moment for me because I didn’t know what to make of it,
or even how to process it, the way he laid himself bare to me in that letter
actually fueled me now.
For the first time in my life, I felt
whole.
I ground myself into him
and came almost at once.
I cried
out, but he didn’t stop.
He went
deeper.
When he was satisfied, he
pulled out and flicked his tongue over my clit.
Then he brushed across it with the stubble on his chin,
which made me come again, this time to the point that my knees buckled.
And then the alarm went off.
Quickly, Alex slid out from under my dress
and hit a button.
The alarm
stopped and the elevator lurched into motion again.
He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his mouth
while looking at me with an arched eyebrow before he came over and kissed me
hard on my lips.
“Those are your first two for tonight,” he
said.
I was practically panting.
I pulled up my panties as the elevator
slowed, and shot him a look as I tried to steady myself.
“That was incredible.”
“That was just the beginning.”
The elevator stopped, and Alex shot me a
sexy, mischievous look.
The doors
slid open, and I reached for his hand, which I leaned into because my body was
still weak from what he’d just done to me.
We walked across the lobby, went through a
door that was held open for us, and slipped into the night.
Ahead of us was the car.
It wasn’t the limousine we usually
took—this time it was a large, beautiful black Mercedes.
It looked different from any other
Mercedes I’d ever seen—it looked like a tank.
A brute of a man was standing beside the rear door and
holding it open for us.
Just
looking at him, I knew he was one of Alex’s guards, but I said nothing.
Another man was at the wheel.
I glanced around and took in Manhattan
at night.
Light reflected off
glass.
Traffic roared down Fifth.
On the sidewalk, pedestrians either
strolled or walked at a quick clip.
We were nearly at the car when gunshots
rang out.
“Rifle!” the man holding the door said.
People on the sidewalk screamed.
Everything else that happened in that
moment was a blur.
I was propelled into the car so hard that
my head struck the door as I slid across the seat.
Another gunshot sounded, ripping into the
sky.
Behind me, I heard another scream.
It was a woman.
I heard people run.
I heard people shout.
Chaos had found its place here, and it
rooted itself in an effort to bloom.
The driver got out of the car, pulled out
a gun, and hurried over to Alex.
I
heard him order Alex into the car, but Alex was shouting something to the man
who held the door open for us.
I
saw the man break into a run and rush down the sidewalk.
Then I saw the driver get behind Alex
and shove him toward the open door.
Another gunshot fired, but this time
something went terribly wrong.
Something connected with Alex’s chest.
Winded, he collapsed onto me just as the door slammed shut
behind him.
The driver got back into the front seat,
swung around, and reached out a hand to grab Alex’s arm.
“Were you hit?”
It was difficult for him to breathe.
Frightened, I put my hands on his
body.
I felt for the warmth of
blood, but he was at the wrong angle.
I cupped his face, and saw that he was struggling to breathe.
Somewhere, he was hit.
I was sure of it.
“Stay with me!” I shouted.
“Don’t you dare leave me!”
The driver was trying to assess Alex, but
he should have been driving.
Getting us to a hospital.
I
glared at him.
“He’s hurt,” I said.
“Shot!
Do something, for Christ’s sake!”
The car sped away.
“Were you shot?” I asked Alex as we raced
through the streets toward whatever hospital the driver was taking us to.
He lifted his head, blinked, and finally
was able to catch his breath.
He
turned over on the seat, and pressed his hand against his chest, but I could
see that his shirt was dry, not wet with blood.
I felt to make sure.
He was dry.
“No,” he said.
“When I was pushed inside, I think my chest connected with
the edge of the door.
It knocked
the wind out of me and I fell on top of you.”
He struggled to sit up and I put my hand on his knee.
“I’m OK,” he said.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
I turned to the driver, whom I also knew
was one of Alex’s guards since he carried a gun.
I laced into him.
“What the hell was that?” I said.
“A scare tactic.
They were using a rifle.
If they wanted to shoot him, they would have.”
“Who are
they
?”
“We don’t know yet.”
“Where were they shooting from?”
“If I had to guess, I’d say from one of
the buildings across the street.”
“So they knew we were here tonight.”
“Apparently.”
“What’s this about?”
“We don’t know.”
“When are you going to know?
How long has this been going on?”
“For a while,” Alex said.
He hesitated before he spoke, but then
he seemed to make a decision, and turned to me.
“For the past week, I’ve been receiving death threats.”
“Death threats?”
“Another one came in this morning.”
“Came in how?”
“On my cell.
A text.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t want to worry you with that.”
“You think I’m not worried after what just
happened?
After being shot
at?
And after that admission?
Of course I’m worried.
What did it say?”
“That I’ll be dead soon.”
He saw the look of fear that crossed my
face, and stopped me before I could say anything.
“Security is looking into it.
If we need to bring in the FBI, we will.”
“Who would want to kill you?”
“Take your pick.
Wenn has taken over dozens of companies and
corporations.
We’ve driven people
out of business.
People have lost
their jobs because of us.
My
father was a frequent target of threats.
As I said, this is nothing new for me, with the exception of what just
happened.
No threat has ever risen
to that level.
Otherwise, I’m used
to it.”
“What kind of life is that?”
“The life I inherited from my father.”
My heart started to pound in my ears.
I thought I’d nearly lost him, which at
this point in our relationship was incomprehensible to me.
I was frightened to my core.
I couldn’t lose him now.
“This started when we were in Maine,
didn’t it?”
“It started before we went to Maine.”
I couldn’t help feeling a spark of anger
and betrayal.
“And you didn’t tell
me before we left?
You knew about this,
and still we had sex?
Why would
you do that to me?
I’m emotionally
invested in you now.”
“Do you believe for a minute that I’m not
as emotionally invested in you?
Perhaps even more than you are in me?
When we were in Maine, I still thought this was just another
one of those pranks.
Another fake
threat.
I’ve had dozens of
them.
And I didn’t initiate what
happened between us that first night in Maine, Jennifer.
You did.”
“You still could have stopped it.
You knew how vulnerable I was at that point.
You knew what I was giving up.
Why didn’t you stop it, especially with
this threat against your life?
You
should have stopped it.
With the
knowledge you had, nothing should have happened that night, or on the beach, or
in the elevator a moment ago.
I’m
intimate with you now in ways that I shouldn’t be.”
He didn’t answer.
“What did you think was going to happen
when we went to Maine?”
“I didn’t know.”
“Oh, please.
We both knew.”
I collected myself and focused on the real
matter at hand—his safety, my safety and how we could end this now so we
could move forward with our lives.
“When will you get the FBI involved?”
“Probably tomorrow.”
“Why tomorrow?
Why not just bring them in now?
This is serious.”
And then I knew why.
“Because of the press, right?
You’re worried about how news of this might affect Wenn’s stock.”
“That’s right.
So is the board.”
“Screw the board.
Screw Wenn.
Your safety comes first.
Certainly the FBI can keep this quiet.
They’re the FBI for God’s sake.
Get your team on the phone and get the
investigation started.
You said
you’ve been receiving texts.
Texts
are sent through cell phones.
Certainly, a name is attached to that cell phone.”
“You’re being naïve.”
“How am I being naïve?”
“There are text services, Jennifer.
Some of them offer a free
trial—with no credit card attached.
All they require is an email address, which both of us know can be
bogus.
And then there are
TracFone’s.
Do you know what
they
are?
You pick them up at places
like Wal-Mart, Best Buy, Target.
Wherever.
They come
pre-loaded with minutes.
Nothing
is traceable to the person who holds the phone, especially if that person paid
for it in cash.
It offers complete
anonymity until you add more minutes via a credit card.
If a TracFone is what this person used
to send me those texts, don’t you think they’d just get another one when their
minutes ran out rather than expose their identities to the world?
Of course they would.
You’re not seeing all sides of
this.
Those are just two right off
the top of my head.
I’m sure the
FBI knows of a slew of other ways to send an anonymous text.
And by the way—the number
attached to the texts I was sent?
When you call it, you get nothing.
They’re not picking up for obvious reasons.
I’ve tried.”
“I don’t believe for a minute that the FBI
doesn’t have the necessary skills and tools to deal with this kind of
situation.
What’s getting in your
way now is you and your goddamned company.
You hired me as a consultant—”
“—a
business
consultant.”
“That’s right, and that’s the advice I’m
going to offer you now.
Get the
FBI on this.
Let them do their
work.
Let them make this go away.
If and when news hits that there was a
threat against your life, we’ll be prepared to tell the press that we’re
dealing with it.
We’ll do our
homework beforehand.
We’ll counter
with a shitload of news about other CEOs who have been similarly targeted, and
make it sound as commonplace as it is.
Just read the
Times
or the
Journal
.
Or pay attention to the news in
general.
Or maybe even listen to a
bit of common sense.
Any person of
great power—and that would be you, Alex—is vulnerable at any point
in their lives.
Your investors know
that.
They’d be fools not to.
I don’t see how any of this could
affect Wenn.
Spin it correctly, and
it might even be a win for Wenn.”
“And how do you figure that?”
“There’s no such thing as bad press,
Alex.
If there’s a way to spin
this, should we need to, I’ll find it.”
“And you have the skills to do that?”
The comment offended me.
In fact, the entire conversation
offended me.
“I have the skills to
look the CEO of a major corporation in the eye, and set him straight in ways
that no one else dares to.
Bite on
that for a while, because you and I know that everything I just said to you is
on point.
Call your surveillance
team and tell them to contact the FBI.”
“Take us home,” Alex said to the
driver.
“I don’t need to see a
doctor.”
He looked at me, and on
his face was an apology.
“I didn’t
know it would go this far.
I’ve
been threatened with my life many times since I was handed Wenn, and each time,
it turned out to be nothing.
Obviously, that’s not true in this case.
I thought I could shield you from it, but clearly I also was
wrong there.”
“You were,” I said.
“And because of that, here’s something
else you need to know.
Tonight,
I
received a death threat.
I also
thought it was a prank, or I would have told you the moment it happened,
especially if I’d known about this.
If I’d know about this, I would have told you immediately.”
He looked horrified.
“What did it say?”
“That I’d be dead soon.
It included an attached photograph of
me, which was taken tonight.
Whoever sent it to me was in the crowd when we exited the limousine.
In the photo, I’m wearing this
dress.
They were within a few feet
of me, and they threatened me with my life.
How on Earth could you not have told me about this
earlier?
You’ve put your life in
jeopardy, and mine as well.”
“I should have taken it seriously.
I’m sorry.
It’s just so routine—”
“I don’t care if it was routine in the
past.
At this point, routine just
ended.
Now,
I’m
involved.
Those bullets that were
fired could have been meant for me, not you.
Have you considered that?
The public knows we’re a couple and they know that you lost
Diana.
Someone could want to take
me away from you, too.
For
whatever reason, someone might want to kill me to send either a direct threat
or message to you.”
He just stared at me at a loss for words.
“You should have told me about all of this
when it first started,” I said.
“I
knew something was going on.
I
asked you about it while we were in Maine, but you refused to tell me.
And by not telling me so I could be
prepared for this, you’ve put my life at risk.”
“I didn’t think it would go this far.”
“Well, it has.
And I don’t need to hear anymore.
I’ve heard enough.
I’ve got it.”
I leaned
toward the driver.
“I want to get
out.”
“That’s not a good idea, Ms. Kent.”
“Pull over and let me out.
I’m taking a cab from here.
Do it now, or I’ll open the door and
jump out.”
He pulled to the left and stopped the
car.
I grabbed my clutch, got out
of the car, and started down the sidewalk.
Alex came after me.
“Get back in the car where it’s safe,” he
said.
“Where it’s safe?
Seriously, Alex?
Right now, nowhere is safe.”