Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) (16 page)

Max

Waking up this morning after a long night of intermittent sleep and relentless crying jags is beyond difficult. My ass is dragging and my eyes are all but swollen shut. The only thing prompting me to get into the shower and begin the day is knowing that today is the day Jack’s ‘suit’ hacker guy arrives.

I shuffle over to the coffee pot and flip the switch so it can brew while I’m in the shower. One good thing about being a tomboy by nature is that I don’t have to waste two whole hours getting ready. I’m in and out of the shower with wet hair and dressed in jeans and a t-shirt within ten minutes.

I stand at the window, nursing my coffee and staring out at nothing. I like it here. I like having my privacy while also knowing that I’m part of something bigger than myself. I will another bout of tears away as the memory of losing my mother’s pearls last night creeps in on my moment of peaceful solitude. I abruptly shake my head and straighten my spine. I have to stay positive. Maybe someone will call today and give me good news. There are still good people in the world. I have to believe that.

I walk over to my desk, set my coffee down, and boot up my computer, ready to review the notes I managed to type up after all the excitement last night. Who knows if they’ll make any sense, I was in such a state.

A loud rumble breaks the silence and my coffee mug starts vibrating across my desk.
What the fuck?
I hurry over to the window. Some biker guy on a tricked out Harley pulls up to the office. How the hell did he get past the security gate?!

I know Jack has dealt with some really bad people over the years -- Is he about to be ambushed?! Before I have a chance to think, I sling the door open and stomp over to the intruder.

“Excuse me! Hey, you!” By now I’m standing in front of him with my hands on my hips. After the night I had, I’m more than ready for a confrontation.

His face and head are concealed by a black helmet emblazoned with a black widow design. He tilting his head to the side as he considers me. I continue my rant, “What the hell do you think you’re doing here? We don’t allow just anyone on the premises.”

He slides the helmet off and I feel like I’ve been sucker punched. My next words freeze in my throat as I take him in. There’s at least 6’3” of gorgeous, simmering testosterone looming over me. From his short-cropped, jet black hair and nearly black eyes to his five o’clock shadow, this is one badass bad boy.

He moves past me with purpose, only pausing long enough to encircle my waist with his massive hands to lift me up and out of his way. Before I can stop sputtering indignantly and suck in enough air to really let him have it, he sets me off to the side with a smirk and saunters across the parking lot into Jack’s office.

I storm in behind him, crazy angry that I’ve been manhandled and as good as ignored. Who the hell does this jerk think he is? That’s fine. I’ll bypass his sorry ass and deal with Jack.

I slam the door behind me and shoulder my way in front of this guy. With my arms crossed over my chest, I bring Jack up to speed on the guy’s unexpected arrival and wait expectantly for Jack to light into this guy, whoever he is.

“I’m sorry, Jack,” I say as I put my hands on my hips and stare down Black Widow Boy. “I tried to stop him at the door, I don’t even know how he got through the gate.”

I’m talking to Jack but I’m still glaring straight at the asshole, who’s now grinning down at me and giving me a pretty thorough once over with those dark eyes.

“Call off your little yipping Chihuahua, Jack.” His eyes had been twinkling but not now. His voice is a low, menacing growl as we stare each other down.

Jack seems inexplicably pleased by the whole thing. He leans back in his seat and grins.
What the hell is going on here?

“Settle down, boys and girls,” he says with a chuckle. “Spider, this is Max. Max, I’d like you to meet Spider – our newest team member.”

“As what, a menace to society?”

“He’s a cyber security specialist. You know, the hacker I told you about.”

Now I am seriously pissed. “What?! He’s not booshie, Jack. You said you were hiring a suit!”

“Well, you don’t exactly look like the golden girl of high society’s elite either, sweetie.” The man I’ve engaged in a staring death match holds my gaze without blinking.

“I am not, nor will I ever be, your
sweetie
, and I can assure you, I will not be working with you--”

Jack interrupts my rant, shutting me down with only a few words, “Max. As we discussed previously, you’ll work with who I say you work with. Non-negotiable, and you should know by now that I don’t like to repeat myself. Spider is the best at what he does. He comes to us based on a strong recommendation from Undercover Elite. Cash recommended him personally.”

As if on cue, the guy removes his leather riding gloves to reveal massive hands. My attention is drawn to the top of one hand that’s sporting some impressive ink: an intricate design of a spider in a web. I’m pissed at myself when my eyes linger on the tattoo, as I admire the workmanship. I’m horrified when he catches me looking.

“Glad you approve.” The arrogance in his voice coupled with the cocky smirk on his face pushes me over the edge.

“You. Arrogant. ASS!” I storm out, slamming the door behind me, but not before I hear Jack say, “So that was Max. She’ll warm up to you eventually.”

As if that isn’t bad enough, the egotistical ass laughs at Jack’s remark. Yeah, no way in hell am I working with
Spider
man…

Max

I’m shaking from head to toe as I plop down in front of my computer. I breathe in and out slowly, close my eyes and try to figure out what the hell just happened. How could Jack hire that jackass? Well, I refuse to feel guilty about my outburst in Jack’s office. Even though I know I overreacted, I have no intention of backing down. But I’ve never reacted so strongly to someone before and, if I’m honest with myself, I know this isn’t like me. The combination of lack of sleep, stress over Mom’s pearls, and Spider’s arrogance have turned me into someone I don’t know.

And what the hell did he think he was doing, calling me a
yipping Chihuahua?!
That was the last straw, right there. What an asshole. I don’t want to be in the same room with the guy, much less work with him – but this is Jack’s show and, ultimately, I’ll need to figure out how to handle this. After all, Jack isn’t the bad guy here; that testosterone-filled windbag is.

I’m better than this. He just caught me off guard, that’s all. This isn’t a problem because I won’t let it become one. I’ve always been a loner so it shouldn’t be too hard to avoid Spider.

I’m so totally overreacting. Jack has a lot of respect for women -- hell, his woman is an alpha female who can definitely hold her own in any situation. If anyone is all about woman power, it’s him. That douchebag he just hired is another story though. With his looks and cocky attitude, the guy’s got
manwhore
written all over him. I bet he fucks a different woman every night. I don’t care if he sticks his dick in a hole in the wall, but I do care about our compound being compromised because some woman runs her mouth about what she’s heard while in Spider’s bed.

I have no intention of letting anyone get in the way of Urban Elite’s success. He could compromise the whole operation. I’m talking to Jack about this -- when that guy isn’t around.

For now, I’ve got plenty of work to do to keep my mind off this bullshit. I open my e-mail and begin sorting through the junk mail I seem to get no matter how many mailing lists I unsubscribe from. One in particular catches my eye. My heartbeat quickens at the sender’s return address:
Iloveserialkillers
. Like I don’t have enough problems?!? I reluctantly open it and begin reading.

This is all your fault. I asked you nicely to contact me. Who the fuck do you think you are, writing about my work without including me? I tried to be nice but that doesn’t seem to work with you. You might want to open the attachment, I have something of yours. Let’s see how quick you change your tune, you disrespectful little bitch! Show me the respect I deserve or my next gift will be the rotting remains of one of your little cop friends. Maybe that pretty little Barbie doll whore -- or you.

I’m shaking but this time it isn’t from anger. Fear is wrapping itself around my throat and I can barely breathe as I click on the attachment and wait for the image to load. A sob escapes me when I see the image of my mother’s pearls. I know they’re hers because I see the tiny heart charm that’s attached next to the clasp.

This is bigger than me and no matter how much bravery I can muster to deal with this sick bastard, I’m obviously in over my head. I’m going to need help here, from someone who’s been up close and personal with the psyche of a serial killer.

If we’re going to nail this guy, then two, three, or even four heads are sure as hell better than one. Here’s hoping Jack’s dream team will able to come together and be just that: a team. Because shit just got real.