Defended & Desired (22 page)

Marveling in horror, she said, “You really thought this through.” Determined to understand his motives, she tried to root the situation in some semblance of reality. “Zander, if you needed a job that badly, I would’ve hired you. In a heartbeat. Your logic and programming skills are extraordinary.”

An unnerving chuckle escaped his lips. “I don’t need your pity, or your job, or your boy toy’s money. I created an app that made me a millionaire. ‘Course, my parents aren’t hard up, either. I live in a wing of their mansion in California. Not that they even noticed I’ve been gone.” He scowled. “It was never about the money.”

“Then, what?”

“Working for you has been fun. Eye-opening, really.” His expression intensified until his eyes became a ghostly pale-gray drill demanding access to her most intimate life. “I got to swim through the rivers of your mind and appreciate your brilliance. It took me three months of working under you before I hacked your code, Devon. You are one of a kind. Truly remarkable. Trey, the oaf, should’ve seen that, before he used you and threw you away like a cheap whore.”

“Stop it,” she insisted. “He’s a good man.”

“I don’t care about him anymore. From now on, I’m going to take care of you and show you the respect you deserve.”

Immediately defensive, she gestured to the laptop. “If you don’t care, then why are you planning to destroy his company by leaking his clients’ personal information?”

“For you. Don’t you see? That’s the perfect way to get back at him. He gave you false hope, but I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

His bizarre rationalizations struck alarm into her veins. “If you hacked into our network and stole private company information, you’ll go to prison.”

He spread his arms and then slapped his thighs. “My parents own a goddamn island off the coast of Australia. We’ll go there. I have a plane chartered at a private airstrip twenty miles from here. No one ever has to know. We can disappear.” He snapped his fingers. “Just like that.”

Clearly, he was high on delusions of grandeur. She shot him a severe look. “The authorities will figure it out, Zander. Even put together, our hacking skills are not indestructible, or untraceable.”

“Alexander,” he thundered. “And you’re wrong. Don’t you see all the things we could do together?” He crossed his arms tightly like a petulant child. “Maybe not. I knew you were a match for me years ago, but when I started working with you, everything became so clear. We’ll create programs and develop code the tech sphere never dreamed of making.” A deep and internal pain surfaced, crumpling his features. “Don’t you want the world to bow to your genius?”

Finally, she zeroed in on his motivation. The tension in her body, preparing for a fight-or-flight response, eased a fraction. She’d found the thing she could appeal to and manipulate to free herself from his grasp, and his gun, to avoid abduction. Because from the sound of it, that’s what he planned to do—hold her against her will at gunpoint until she agreed to his terms.

Like hell I will, you pathetic, egotistical, spoiled brat.

Calming herself, she reassessed the situation. He wanted her to do something to set his information leak in motion. That’s where she’d start. “I didn’t realize you understood what I needed, Alexander,” she murmured, injecting seduction into her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You didn’t want to hear it,” he grumbled. Then he narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What took you so long to figure it out?”

She knew Zander was incredibly smart. A bait-and-switch tactic wouldn’t work with him. She needed to lead him to her own “false” suggestions subtly. “I didn’t think you wanted me that way.”

His snarky grin returned. “Well, now you know. To stick it to Trey, all you need to do is enter your password for Soren Security and hit Enter.”

“I’d like that,” she lied. “As soon as he found out I couldn’t have children, he threw me aside. But you wouldn’t, right, Alexander?”

“You know I won’t.” He practically salivated as she came around the desk and approached him, turning the laptop around to face them both. Which put her closer to the gun. “We’re meant to be together. You and me, we’ll bring the world to its knees.”

Although the creepy slither in his voice made her shudder, she said, “Yes. We’ll make them bend over and take it. After the way Trey trashed me, not to mention that bastard, Adam.”

“I have to plug in my pass key to enter my code.” She dipped her hand into her purse and withdrew the SOS thumb drive Adam had given her when he’d claimed an emergency signal would launch to all the heads of security, including him, and, more importantly, Trey. She inserted the thumb drive into the slot. “This should come up any second.”

As she plugged the thumb drive into the USB port of his laptop, she prayed the SOS signal executed immediately. Regardless, she wouldn’t let him destroy Trey’s company. If she had to rip out his Wi-Fi card and grind it in the garbage disposal, she would. Even if it meant losing the SOS signal.

Otherwise, she’d have to come up with an alternate plan of escape that might involve her getting shot, or even killed.

*

While Cade, Adam and Liam rehashed stories about their former bad lovers and breakups over the years—from the amusing to the appalling—Trey sipped his beer with zero enthusiasm. He didn’t want to get drunk. He just felt like crap, and no amount of alcohol would cure that.

Though he laughed, frowned or nodded on cue, his gaze kept wandering around his living room, seeing ghosts of the dreams he’d envisioned playing out in this home.

At one point, Devon had told him she’d prefer swimming with piranhas over going camping. So he’d revamped his initial thoughts about his fireplace. Instead, he’d opted for a giant slate fixture that looked like it had come out of a quarry, with a wide hearth that anchored his living room. That way, they could still sit around a fire and roast marshmallows and make s’mores without fending off mosquitoes. He’d also considered the excellent layout of Logan and Allison’s first floor space, realizing how the open concept lent itself to a better family flow. He could be making a fire in the hearth or playing with Peanut while Devon cooked or set the dining room table for a big sit-down dinner, and she’d always be within view.

Since the future bedrooms would be situated in a two-story structure over his garage, he’d thought about keeping the current three bedroom layout of his ranch, dedicating two of the lower level bedrooms as home offices. Plenty of space for her to set up her elaborate computer station.

Looking past the drywall-dust-covered shag carpet and the half-wall of spindles blocking the cramped kitchen, he saw his current place overlaid with John’s architecture plans, transforming his house into something great and beautiful. And he saw Devon in every room, in every part of those plans. He failed at any attempt to exclude her from the visions of his future.

As long as she was here, did he really have to fill his house with kids? That had always been his expectation, but who was he to put parameters around the term “family?” He thought back to what Devon had said the night they went into the mountains to gaze at the stars. “You don’t get to choose your family, Trey.” All this time, he’d kept a list in his mind like boxes he could check off on a form. When the checks lined up and met his criteria, he’d find happiness.

Except, life rarely went according to plan. Losing his dad the same week he broke up with Jenna had cemented that truth.

Maybe he needed to ditch the checkboxes. Maybe the life with Devon that would make him so happy required flexibility and compromise. Even sacrificing some dreams to fulfill others. To find completion with the woman he loved, instead of waiting for some made-up ideal that might never materialize.

“Earth to Trey.” Adam’s voice penetrated his thoughts.

Liam with his spot on pitch sang lyrics to a David Bowie song, “‘Ground Control to Major Tom…’”

Trey blinked and glanced at the guys, who stared at him with varying expressions of investment on their faces. “What?”

“We didn’t stage an intervention to come here and be ignored,” Adam groused, sending his elbow into Trey’s ribs.

“Then you should’ve brought a keg instead of two six-packs,” Trey retorted. Two beers apiece barely made for a drunken night in. Realizing the beer he held had gone warm in his grip, he tossed the half-empty bottle into the trash. “Look, I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it. But talking about your breakups isn’t helping.”

“I told you we should’ve changed the subject,” Cade muttered.

Suddenly, Adam’s phone buzzed with a strange ring tone. Followed by Cade’s phone, Liam’s phone, and his own. “What the…?” He lifted cell.

Devon’s number.

He shot to his feet. “This is Devon.”

“Shit, that’s the signal.” Adam stood, too. “The prototype me and Allen Guthrey made is supposed to send an SOS to all of us, if one of our clients is in an emergency.”

“You gave this to Devon?” Trey asked, shocked but grateful.

“Yeah. Didn’t expect her to use it, but I told her you’d want her to have it, just in case.”

Trey launched himself at Adam, throwing his arms around him the way he and Cade had embraced earlier. “You are awesome.”

Reacting as expected, Adam shoved him off and started for the front door. “Damn, dude. Let’s go get your girl.”

“How do we find her location?” Cade questioned, scrolling through the information on his smart phone.

Adam replied, “A text should give us coordinates. See, mine just sent me the GPS location.”

Trey snatched the phone out of Adam’s hand, ensuring their phones synced, then he handed it back to his cousin. He told Cade, “Let’s go.”

Adam called after him, “I’ll get my guys from the motorcycle club. We’ll give you backup.”

Though he didn’t reply, Trey silently thanked his cousin. He hopped into the Porsche with Cade, who shoved the gear into reverse, peeled out of his driveway, and sped down the road toward Devon.

He hoped to God he wouldn’t be too late. If anything happened to her…

Fear twisted his reality and he shut that thought out of his mind. Because if anything happened to her, he’d commit murder. Or die trying.

Cade raced against the clock, though every minute seemed to last an eternity. Worry racked him. He couldn’t sit still and, even in a Porsche, Cade couldn’t drive fast enough. Through the side mirror, he watched Adam and Liam veer off at an intersection, and he appreciated their run for backup.

Speaking of backup, he called Logan. “Man, something’s wrong. It’s Devon. She’s in danger.”

The sound of shuffling came from Logan’s end, and then the background noise quieted. “Where are you?”

“Driving downtown with Cade.” Veering onto a backstreet to avoid traffic, his brother took the curve sharply. He grabbed the door to steady himself.

“Where is she?”

“Don’t know. She sent us an SOS signal and we’re following the GPS coordinates.”

“What do you need?” Logan asked, his tone tense and focused.

“Police presence, just in case. Do you have a guy on the force you trust? Who won’t care if this is a false alarm?”

“Any of them would, but yeah, I’ve got a good friend who’ll give you backup fast. Can you give me a location?”

“Not yet.” He leaned forward when he caught sight of Devon’s Prius parked outside a converted warehouse. “That’s her car,” he told Cade.

They changed lanes cutting off a driver. Cade aligned his car with the curb, slammed on his breaks and cut the engine.

“Here’s the address.” Rattling off the numbers to Logan, he and Cade raced inside. He waited for Logan to confirm and then ended the call.

“Shit. Her signal just died.” Trey shook his phone like that would make her beacon reappear on the screen.

Cade stated, “I’ll take the bottom two floors, you take the top two.”

With a nod, he parted ways with his brother, bolting up the cement staircase. “Devon,” he shouted, his voice bouncing off the concrete like a pinball.

Frantically searching the third floor, he pounded on doors and called her name.

A man emerged wearing glasses and scrubs. “What’s the matter?” he asked with clinical detachment, like an ER doctor used to calm patients plagued by fear.

“My girl is in this building. She’s in trouble. I need to find her,” Trey explained.

“I’ll check with neighbors,” the man said with a slight Indian accent. “But many of these lofts are used as businesses. Not a lot of people here off-hours.”

“Thanks,” Trey said, darting up to the fourth floor. That information helped, narrowing his door-to-door search to lofts without a company nameplate.

A shriek echoed through the hallway, but got lost in the high ceilings, leaving him directionless. “Devon!”

No response. Dragging his hands through his hair, he didn’t know which way to turn.

The sound of a gunshot ricocheted in his skull. He tore down the hall toward the door at the end. He pounded with his fists. “Devon! Are you okay?”

Please, God, let her be okay.

“Trey?” The sweet sound of her voice was muted by the thick steel door blocking him from getting to her.

The doctor arrived a few seconds later with a man in a maintenance uniform.  “She’s inside,” Trey told them.