End Game (Games Thriller Series) (19 page)

Jessica shook her head. “As far as we’re concerned, he is the son of Chris Ryan.”

“Then why did you name him Thomas?”

Jessica smiled. “Thomas Patrick was his father’s name.” She pointed at Chris, who was watching them from the chair.

Tom raised his eyebrows. “Huh?”

“We named our sons in memory of his family,” Jessica replied. “Thomas Patrick Ryan was his father and Christopher James Ryan was his brother.”

“Ty can’t raise my son.” Tom glared over at him, prompting Chris to stand up and head out on the terrace.

“The name is Chris,” he corrected and closed the door behind him. “And there is no way I’m letting an alcoholic have anything to do with my son on a regular basis.”

“There’s no way I’m letting a cold blooded killer raise my child.”

Jessica stepped between the two men. “Chris is a better father than you could possibly imagine. He loves those boys and we’re teaching them values and understanding right from wrong.”

“He doesn’t even know what’s right and what’s wrong.”

“Yes I do. I know the difference.”

Tom laughed sarcastically. “Yeah right, that’s about as real as me saying I’m Superman.”

“He
is
a good father,” Eric said from the door, shocking all of them. “Those two are the best behaved, sweetest four-year-olds I have ever met.” He stepped out on the terrace. “You were fun, but as a father goes, you don’t hold a candle to him, Tom, and I will not let you separate my brothers.”

“Eric, this isn’t your battle,” Chris said.

“The hell it isn’t,” Eric responded. “If he takes Tommy, I won’t get the chance to be with my little brother. And CJ will go ballistic.”

“Eric, please,” Chris said and caught his stepson’s eyes.

Eric went to say something else but closed his mouth as his stepfather’s eyes bore into him.

“Please
, let us talk.”

Eric sulked back inside, glancing over his shoulder as the door closed behind him.

“Tom, you do have some rights as his biological father,” Chris began, seeing Jessica glare over at him. “But if you even think about taking him from us...” he trailed off.

“What?” Tom snapped. “What are you going to do?”

“I will stop you. By any means possible.” His eyes conveyed the meaning behind the words.

“Even if it means you end up on death row?”

Jessica gasped.

Chris smiled. “You have no proof.”

Tom’s smile faded. He was absolutely right, he didn’t have a shred of evidence regarding Chris’s past. “People have been convicted with less.”

“You would put me in jail?” Jessica said, breaking her silence.

“No,” Tom said.

“You try to pull Chris down, I go with him and so do you,” she pointed out.

Tom looked from Jessica to Chris and back.

“The only reason you are here is because of him. I didn’t want to tell you about Tommy.”

Her words were like a physical blow and he took a step back. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to complicate our lives. We have a very quiet, very private existence and I want to keep it that way.”

Tom digested what she said. “You didn’t make a very quiet or private entrance tonight.”

“That was all me. You’re the one who invited us. You had to know I wouldn’t just show up without a grand entrance. That isn’t my style.”

“But a quiet, private life is?”

“Yes. Privacy is very much my style. Why do you think I insisted you put Christopher Aris on the guest list?” He paused. “And I wouldn’t say our lives are quiet.” He glanced over at his wife. “There is nothing quiet about two four
-year-old boys.”

Jessica smiled in response. “Ok
ay, well, quiet might not be the best description of our lives but for the last four and a half years we have been off the media radar and I like it that way. If you insist on trying to take your son, then he will be thrust into the spotlight just by being related to you. Do you really want that?”

“Jessie, the spotlight never bothered me.”

“I don’t care, the answer is no.” Jessica glared and stormed back into the apartment.

Chris looked out over the city. “And as long as you are married to
Sharon, you will not come around to see us. I don’t want you putting my family in any more danger than you already have.”

“I thought you said she called off the hit?”

“She did. But wasn’t it you that said if she ever found out you had a son, she would kill him out of spite?” He glanced over at Tom.

Tom nodded.

“I love both my boys, more than you can comprehend. I love them more than I love my wife,” Chris said making his point. “So if you even think about putting either of them in danger by making this a public issue, I will have your head delivered to me on a platter.” Chris walked into the house, leaving Tom with that morbid image.

Tom followed him in from the terrace after a few moments.

Chris stood by the front door with it open. “It’s time for you to go.”

Tom looked down at his feet and then over at Jessica. “I want to see him again.”

Jessica shook her head. “That’s not such a good idea right now.”

He took a deep breath. “When?”

“I already told you, now go,” Chris replied.

“I don’t even know if she will divorce me.”

“Then you won’t see him.”

Tom looked at the two of them and slowly walked out of their apartment feeling like a knife had been embedded in his stomach. He no sooner raised his hand to flag a cab when one pulled up. Still preoccupied, he slid inside and a jab of metal pressed to his ribs. His head swiveled in the dark interior of the cab and he gasped, staring at his wife’s glaring gaze.

“Hi honey,” Sharon said. “So this is where they live.”

Ice filled his veins and he shivered.

“Drive,” she demanded of the driver and the cab took off.

Tom’s mouth felt like a bag full of cotton had been shoved in and his pulse quickened to an alarming rate turning the chill into burning fear. His son was up there
; he couldn’t let her get to them.

“The three of you planned that little ambush. You humiliated me in public.”

Tom didn’t say anything.

“I’m going to make sure it never happens again.”

“If you so much as touch them...”

Sharon
slammed the gun into his temple, making him see stars. “I’m going to do much more than just touch them,” she said. “And you are going to watch. You need to learn that your actions have consequences.”

“I’m not a fucking child
, Sharon.” He glared over at her.

“I know and your punishment isn’t a spanking.” She smiled and clocked him with the gun again.

Blackness descended.

Chapter 28

Tom blinked his eyes opened and groaned. His head felt like someone planted an axe in his temple and he went to touch his face but his hand was stopped short. The clank of the chain sent a chill down his back and he widened his eyes, letting them adjust to the blackness surrounding him. Running his fingers over the rough surface behind him, he guessed it was brick or cinderblock and the stench reminded him of the musty mattress he slept on when he, Jessica and Ty were imprisoned.

A thread of fear weaved through his blood and he shivered. In the darkness, he could make out a few stationary shapes, but not much else. An occasional draft tickled his neck and he concentrated on breathing, keeping calm even though panic painted his skin, prickling and stinging its way through to the bone.

He listened for anything familiar and after a few moments, the sounds of the city streets reached his ears. He breathed a sigh; at least he was above ground but his relief was short-lived.

Dim overhead lights flipped on and he got a good look at his surroundings. What he saw made him wish he could be blind in the dark again.

“Jesus.”

He thought that last room in Ty’s prison was bad, what Sharon laid out made that look like Disneyland. His tried to swallow, but without spit, his tongue felt like a roll of sandpaper scraping the roof of his mouth.

Sharon
stepped out of the shadows, slapping her palm with a riding whip. “It’s time you learn who’s in control,” she said and stopped in front of him, thrashing him across the face, leaving a welt on his cheek. She reached out with both hands and tore his shirt open with a smile, running her hands down his chest.

“Get away from me.”

She hit him across the face with the riding whip again.

“You are going to tell me that you love me.” He laughed and she whipped him again.

“Don’t think so.”

“What did you do with her tonight?” Sharon asked and grabbed his crotch, squeezing.

“Nothing,” he said, grinding his teeth against the pain.

“What did you do tonight?” she asked, followed by a strike with the whip against his bare chest.

“Nothing.”

“Did you fuck her?”

“No,” Tom said, glaring at her.

Sharon
studied his face. “I believe you.” She released her grip and slid her hand suggestively over the front of his pants.

“Get away from me.”

The whip cracked against his jaw with the full force of her fury, ripping the skin open and she brought her knee up into his groin.

Pain exploded and he choked with the agony filtering through every muscle in his body. The wall scraped his back as he sank as low as the chains would allow with his breath locked in his chest and his face fire hot. When oxygen flowed back into his lungs a groan came with it, the tinny taste of pain filling his mouth.

“Before this weekend’s over, you will tell me what I want to hear,” she said and threw the riding whip on the table, storming out of the room, switching the lights off as she disappeared through the door.

Chapter 29

Jessica looked over her shoulder at h
im following her into their bedroom. “This wasn’t the ideal wedding night,” she said and he closed the door.

“Sorry you married me already?” Chris asked, dramatically covering his heart with his hands. “You’re killing me.” He stumbled toward her.

“Cut the shit.”

Chris grabbed her arm and yanked her to him, looking into her eyes. “This wasn’t the way I had planned it either. What I had originally planned for our wedding night was moved to last night because
you
already promised
him
we would be at the premiere.”

Jessica looked up at him and sighed. “Last night was wonderful, so was most of today until we stepped out onto the red carpet.”

“I said I’d make it up to you.” He held her face and kissed her. “What is it you desire?” he asked and moved his lips to her ear, licking the curves and sucking her earlobe. His fingers ran over the satin dress, fueling his desire. “Hmmm?”

“You,” she answered his question, getting lost in his exploration of her neck.

“Jessica Ryan,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue and creating a hunger like nothing he felt before and he nibbled the line of her neck.

“Mrs. Ty Alexander Ryan,” she said deliberately and smiled as he pulled away.

“Legally, it’s Mrs. Chris Ryan,” he corrected, his eyes slowly taking her in as he stepped away from her. He willed the dress to flow up and over her head and watched as it drifted to the floor in front of her. He slipped his shoes off, kicking them behind him and he stepped onto the discarded dress, taking her mostly naked body in his arms. “But I do like the sound of that much better.”

“Make love to me
, Ty.”

He grinned. “I plan on doing that every night for the rest of our lives.” He kissed her and she began to unbutton his shirt
, and he chuckled. “You would think we were teenagers.”

Jessica pulled away and looked at him with a sexy smile. “One would think.” She unbuckled his belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops and tossed it across the room. “I just can’t get enough of you.”

“If I could spend the rest of my life in bed with you, I would die an extremely happy man.”

Jessica playfully pushed him against the side of the bed planting butterfly kisses across his chest. “You are way too talkative tonight.”

“Then shut me up,” he whispered and surrendered when she pushed him back onto the bed, her mouth finding his, the kiss taking his breath away. With a glance, the stereo turned on, “If You Could Only See” by Tonic came pouring out of the speakers, and he smiled. “I love you, Jessie.”

“God knows how much I love you,” she sighed.

He pulled her close, rolling and maneuvering them fully onto the bed. Tracing her face with his fingertips, he drank her in like never before and his smile faded. The joy of the day overshadowed by his past and his eyes misted. “Is this real?”

She nodded.

A torrent of emotions hit him like a brick in the chest and he inhaled, burying his face in the crook of her neck so she wouldn’t see the tears sprout. Over his whole life, whenever happiness was within reach, it was snatched from him, crushed to a pulp before his eyes and fear bloomed. Fear of losing her, of losing his children, but most of all, fear that he’d wake and find himself alone and still working for his brother in that godforsaken prison.

She tilted his face so she could see him and at the sight of his tear
-stained face, she whispered, “Oh, babe.”

“I don’t understand why God would ever allow me to be this happy.”

“Because you asked for redemption.” Jessica pressed her lips to his forehead.

“Do you really believe I’ve been forgiven?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if I’m capable of forgiving you, I’m sure God is too.” She gently kissed him. “The only one who hasn’t is you.”

He looked at her for a long time without speaking. “Tom made me a hero. I am so far from a hero it’s not funny.”

“You are a hero to me. You’re my heart and soul.”

He kissed her. “You’re my everything,” he whispered and slid inside of her.

Chris took his time with her, savoring every second as if this was the last time he would be one with her, feeling her emotions intermixed with his own. He controlled himself, pausing when he felt the peak coming until it subsided again, allowing Jessica to hurdle through hers over and over again. After what seemed like hours, he finally lost control over his body and exploded deep inside her.

“Ok
ay, that made up for the rest of tonight,” Jessica said as he lay spent with his head on her shoulder.

He laughed softly, propping himself up on his elbows
and traced her lips with his fingers before leaning over and playfully biting her lower lip.

“I don’t have the energy for any more,” Jessica yawned.

“I finally tired the Energizer Bunny?”

“Yes.” Jessica nodded and he rolled, pulling her on top of him. Jessica laid her head on his chest, drifting into a peaceful sleep in his arms.

Chris absently ran his hand through her hair, a habit that seemed to put him into a deep state of relaxation. He smiled and drifted into the darkness of slumber.

He opened his eyes to a room he didn’t recognize and he was in agony. With his arms spread wide holding his weight, exhaling seemed impossible and pushing with his feet to lift himself far enough to exhale brought on shards of pain that shot up his legs with a force almost enough to bring on the blessed blackout. He blinked and his eyes finally focused on the room below him. His family, lined up in different phases of torture and the psycho bitch plotting which one was next on her hit list. They were past the point of danger and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. He inhaled deeply, and pushed himself up again despite the pain, letting out a blood-cur
dling cry of despair.

Chris shot up in their bed, his entire body bathed in sweat with the scream still coming from his mouth.

Jessica flew out of the bathroom, her eyes wild and darting around the room, expecting to see what prompted her husband to scream like that. Once the recognition that nothing was in the room with them set in she turned off the bathroom light and climbed into the bed next to him.

The entire bed shook with the tremors coursing through him. The dream replayed itself in his head like a broken record, skipping from the end back to the beginning over and over. In the dream, he was void of the power he felt throbbing in his veins for the past five years.

“Chris, it was only a dream,” Jessica said as she rubbed her hand gently over his sweat-soaked back.

He nodded but still trembled. Witnessing his own death was far from pleasant and he couldn’t shake the vision from his mind. Chris took a few deep breaths trying to calm his nerves, but it wasn’t working. What he saw in the dream was a worse death than being pulled apart by chains or bleeding to death in a chair
; it was slow and agonizing and bought him more than enough time to see everything he loved destroyed.

“It was only a dream,” Jessica said again, but the thoughts flying through his head, while broken and sporadic still sent chills down her spine. “Chris,” she said an octave louder and he turned to look at her.

“I’ll be all right,” he said and slipped out of bed, grabbing his discarded underwear off the floor and slipped it on before heading into the bathroom. The cold water bit at his face and looked up into the mirror. His eyes still held that haunted look and he closed them, trying to shut out the vision, but it wouldn’t go away. He grabbed the bathrobe on the back of the door, slipped it on and headed for the bedroom door.

“Where you going?”

“I need some air.”

Before stepping out on the balcony, Chris filled a glass with scotch. The frigid breeze slapped at his face and his bare calves calming the panic gripping him and he slammed back the drink, letting it warm him from the inside.

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Jessica said from inside the slider.

Chris laughed
; that was the least of his worries. “I’ll be fine. I just had a really bad dream.”

“I gathered that
. Want to tell me about it?”

“Not particularly.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “It was much more unsettling than yours.”

She went out to him, taking his hand and leading him back into the warm apartment. Taking the drink out of his hand and putting it on the bar next to the table, she motioned for him to sit on the couch next to her. “Nothing is going to happen to us.”

He rolled his eyes and looked at her. “You don’t know that.”
You weren’t hanging from a cross
.

“What about a cross?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek, blocking her from hearing anything further. “It might have been just a carry-over from our conversation. I’ve had the most amazing five years with you and I’m feeling a little insecure.”

“I married you yesterday.”

“I know, but still.” He shrugged. “It could all end tomorrow.”

“That’s a little morbid.”

He nodded and glanced at the clock. “We need to get some more sleep before the kids wake up.” He stood and walked over to the bar, downed the remaining scotch from his glass and closed the bottle, hiding it away.

She waited for him and took his hand as they walked silently back to the bedroom.

Chris looked around at the clothing carnage and tilted his head, exercising a bit of power to clean up the room. He glanced at her with a small smile, sliding under the covers as the last of the discarded clothes folded on the chair.

“You have no idea how much I’d like to have that back sometimes,” Jessica said, burrowing under the covers next to him.

Chris’s smile disappeared as the dream etched further into his consciousness. He considered her comment for a moment and then rolled her toward him and kissed her, pushing a majority of his power back into her. “Is that what you really want?” he asked, pulling away.

Jessica gasped and her eyes widened. The power consumed her, making her entire form quake. “Holy shit.”

“Didn’t think so.” He kissed her again, this time pulling most of the power back, leaving her with a trace, locking it deep in her subconscious as a precaution. He broke the kiss and smiled.

Jessica eyes filled with awe. “How the hell do you control that?”

“Discipline.” He shifted, spooning her. “Now get some sleep.”

* * * *

The early morning sun woke her out of a sound sleep. He still had his arms firmly wrapped around her and his head buried in her hair, his breath tickling her neck as he snored softly. Jessica shifted and his grip tightened a fraction before his eyes fluttered open.

“Morning
, Mrs. Ryan.”

“Morning
, Mr. Ryan.”

“What time is it?” Chris asked
, still with her firmly in his grip.

Jessica pushed the edge of her pillow down so she could see the clock. “A little after nine.”

“We should get up,” he said but made no attempt to move.

“We should,” she agreed and wrapped her arms around his, snuggling closer to him. “What are we doing today?”

“I don’t have anything planned.”

Jessica thought for a few minutes. “You know, I never made it to the Met.”

Chris smiled. “I think the Museum of Natural History would be better suited for them,” he said, referring to the boys. “I can’t see them being really interested in art for any period of time.”

Jessica nodded. “I think they need to get out of the apartment for a while.” She slipped out of his grip. “I’m going running. Are you coming?”

Chris sighed, he didn’t really feel like running this morning, he just wanted to lay in bed with her.

“I know, but we can’t stay in bed forever,” she said catching his thought process. “And I missed exercising yesterday.”

Chris grinned. “You got a little in.”

Jessica’s cheeks heated and she grabbed the sweats hanging over the back of the chair. “Not the same. I’d like you with me today, just in case Tom ambushes me again.”

Chris took a deep breath and swung his legs out of bed. “I’m coming,” he muttered, passing her on his way to the bathroom. When he returned to the bedroom, Jessica was tying her jogging shoes. She watched as he pulled on his clothes and milled through the closet for his running shoes. “Only for you,” he mumbled under his breath as he slipped them on and tied the laces.

“You’re still muttering under your breath?”

“It’s cold out there.” Chris glanced up at her. “And I was real comfortable in here with you in my arms.”

“Suck it up
, babe.” She grinned and picked up her MP3 player.

He caught her before she reached the door, spun her around and kissed her. “I’d rather suck face.”

Jessica laughed. “I’ll bet, but right now, I need a run.”

He gave in and let her go, following her like a scolded puppy.