Chased - A Titan Novella (Titan (Novella)) (8 page)

He must’ve felt her gaze because he stopped and turned to her.
That face, whoa, and that chest…
There was a reason he’d always made those magazine lists and, for as long as she’d known him, never had a problem finding a date.

He covered the phone. “You okay? Talk to Sugar?”

“Calling.” She shook the phone in her hand but went to the kitchenette to see if a furnished apartment came with food.

He went back to pacing. “There’s nothing to talk about. End of discussion. Move on.”

Yeah, he was talking about the picture. Last night had been special for her and fun for him. But her mind started ticking. How could he date an actress who played a tassel- and glitter-wearing burlesque dancer and still win his upcoming election? She wasn’t a campaign genius, but it seemed like bad public relations for him.

“There’s nothing to address. Nothing to define. Can we get back to how the latest focus group reacted to whatever they reacted to? Don’t you have some fundraiser I need to know about?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and he looked up.

Busted.
She busied herself in an empty kitchen. Furnished apartments didn’t come stocked with food. At least hers didn’t.

Asher padded over, still only in his boxer briefs. Her sheet was still wrapped around her. They made quite the pair.

He whispered, “It’s not a big deal. Don’t look so worried.”

She didn’t believe him but nodded. “I’ll call Sugar now.” Because waking her up and dropping this bomb on her would be as much fun as listening to Asher talk about how there was nothing worth defining when it came to her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Jenny rubbed her eyes and wished her duffel bag had made it to the apartment. Until she was able to get it, she had no face wash, no makeup, and no clean clothes.

But she did have her sister on the phone, and the familial inquisition was reaching a boiling point. Sugar said something to someone in the background. Jenny could only assume it was Jared, and why that made her uneasy, she couldn’t pinpoint. Titan was just a little overwhelming. Some of Sugar’s customers purchased antique pistols. Titan bulk-ordered special-order grenade launchers.

Sugar came back to the phone. “Walk me through this one more time, Jenny.”

She sighed. “Okay—”

“Jenny.” Jared had the phone now. Her brother-in-law wasn’t scary until he was pissed off. Right about now, he sounded pissed. Probably not at her. But still, the scary attitude was loud and clear. “I’ll have a team in New York to meet with you and McIntyre by the afternoon.”

“I have rehearsals.” And she had no idea why she said that lame-ass excuse, other than everyone starting to treat her like her life was really in danger made it seem... really in danger.

Jared laughed, but it sounded a little like a grumble. “A wannabe Special Forces nutcase takes a picture of you, and you think your rehearsals are going to slow my men down?”

“Um, no.”

“Smart girl.” Sugar said something in the background, but Jenny couldn’t hear it. Jared continued, “So you and Asher McIntyre?”

Her cheeks burned. The whole world apparently wanted to ask that question, and she didn’t really know what to say or what Asher thought. Like all of a sudden, it was a topic of conversation when she had barely come to grips with the man even wanting to kiss her. And that had been yesterday.

“Maybe. I don’t know…”

…
why I’m talking to Jared about Asher?

…how to respond to that question?

…what I hope Asher’s answer to Jared’s question would be?

There were a million ways she could finish that sentence. For as confident as she’d felt last night, this morning was a cold splash of uncertainties.

“McIntyre’s not stupid. Neither are you. But if he hurts you, he’ll never see Election Day.”

Oh.
“I, um…”

Jared laughed. “Looks like you got the older brother you never wished you had, kid. Blame Sugar.”

Asher’s call had ended, and he walked over to her. “That’s Sugar?”

“Jared,” she whispered.

Jared growled in her ear. “That McIntyre?”

“Yes,” Jenny said into the phone. “He had me call you guys. Guess he was making sure I did it.”

Jared grunted, but it sounded like an approving sound. “Guess not all politicians are morons. Until my boys show up, don’t leave that man’s side.”

She watched Asher stretch as he walked back toward the bedroom.
No problem.

***

Asher kept an eye on Jenny while he sat with Ricky and two men who came from Titan. Roman and Rocco. They seemed like decent guys, though they had only arrived two minutes ago, and he hadn’t felt them out yet. But Asher approved of their
give-me-a-reason-to-kill-you-
look and was a fan of anyone who walked in the door with a plan. No pleasantries. Just a
this is what we’re going to do
.

Plus, Jenny had met them at Sugar’s wedding reception. Judging by the men’s demeanors, they were personally affronted that Maxwell had stepped inside their world and threatened someone they knew. Asher approved.

Rocco shifted in the theatre’s auditorium chair. “So that’s our plan. Ricky stays in place. We stay nearby after running through a few quick security measures. FBI tracks Maxwell down, and we’ll all be home by the end of the week.”

Ricky nodded to him. “Mr. Congressman.” He twirled a string of sequins around his finger and snapped it at Asher’s knee. “How might you be staying safe while all this is happening?”

He’d been waiting for Ricky to ask that. Murphy had asked as well when Asher had spoken with him earlier about Titan Group picking up the lead on Jenny’s protective detail. She was a bigger target now that a few reports decreed her a “newsworthy flame.”

“Flavor of the week,” as some jerk blogger had said
.
Asher had given his pit bull of a press secretary the go-ahead to tear that asshole apart.

The phone he used for campaign work buzzed. The other cell phone he carried for official business did the same. Ricky’s phone rang. They both looked away from the stage and to their phones. Rocco and Roman looked at them. The timing was odd.

The fire alarm blared. Roman and Rocco jumped up. Ricky stepped to Asher, no longer playing the acting-choreography coach but morphing into the well-trained man that Asher knew well.

His stomach sank. Impending disaster was striking. Both Titan men were taking several steps at a time down the theatre’s aisle toward the practice stage. Actors had stopped on stage, and a few covered their ears. Crew members walked onto the stage. It was a cacophony of people in mass hysteria.

The fire sprinklers turned on overhead. The emergency lights lit, and stage lights died.

In the blinking lights and under the water pouring from the ceiling, smoke began to fill the stage. The smoke floated and swirled under the gyrating lights. The sirens were too loud to shout over.

People began to run and call for help. Someone slipped in the water.

One second, Asher could see Jenny blinking on stage under a strobe light. The next, his eyes caught a man on stage, mixed in with the crew, who focused on Jenny. The only person who wasn’t reacting to the craziness.

“Maxwell!” Asher shouted and pointed to Ricky, to the Titan men who were jumping on stage.

He pushed his way out of his aisle to the stairs. An explosion sounded at the back of the theatre; the lights went black. An eruption of screams staggered through the theatre.

Two beams of light illuminated on the stage. Had to be Roman and Rocco. They flashed all directions, then the overhead lights came back on.

Jenny was gone.

Ricky hustled Asher down the stairs and opposite from Roman and Rocco. He struggled to head toward stage. “Get your hands off me.”

“Move your ass, Ash.”

“Damn it, Richard.”

“Move. Outside. Let Titan handle Jenny. I need to get you secure.”

“Me? Secure? Fuck that—”

“Deal I made with Murphy. Move your ass, Congressman.”

Fuck Ricky and Murphy.
He should’ve known, having dealt with FBI and private security too many times before. They would talk, make their own plans. Asher was the man they wanted to protect. The public official who the FBI wouldn’t let down. “You fucking played me.”

“No, brother. I didn’t. But you bet your congressional pin that it’s in my job duty to keep you safe as well.”

They made it outside, completely soaked and stinking like a fog machine. Asher scrubbed his hands over his face, into his hair, furious. He paced in place. Glared at Richard. And he waited. Roman or Rocco would give them an update. Explain that they had killed Maxwell in the hallway. Something. Anything.

His phone rang, and he answered it on the first ring. “What?”

“Now there’s something in play that we both want.”

A chill ran down Asher’s spine. He roared into the phone, but the line was dead.

***

Jenny came to, soaking wet in a dark space. The hum of road noise and the occasional illumination of red lights along the back panel delivered the bad news. She was stuffed in a car trunk, wearing a practice costume. A black bustier, glittery boy shorts, and high heels that would make the burlesque world proud. Not the best run-and-escape outfit, and she sure wouldn’t be blending into a crowd if she did get out in public.

Two immediate options popped to mind. Kick out a tail light and stick her foot out the trunk. That would surely get someone’s attention. Or she could wait until they stopped somewhere and scream until a passerby heard and called for help.

She opted not to wait and began kicking. The tail light didn’t budge. Not as easy as it looked on television. Every pothole and sharp turn jarred her. The air was warm and stuffy and seemed to worsen with each passing hour.

It had to be hours. Right? Where were they going?

Eternity passed, and finally the car stopped for longer than a red light. The engine cut off, and her stomach tightened. She might throw up.

But that wouldn’t help her.

Get it together, Jenny!

She sucked down a weak breath and willed her nerves to quiet down. They only semi-listened. A lock clicked, and the trunk popped. She jumped up to the same man who’d offered to be her acting coach and who matched a photo Asher had shown her that morning.
Maxwell.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Doesn’t matter to you.”

Jenny tried to scamper out of the trunk, but his thick arm caught her. She blinked under the pressure on her neck and threw her hands in the air. He would knock her out again. She remembered that was how he’d done it the first time.

“Sorry,” she choked out. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

His arm released, and she looked around, for the first time realizing where they were.
I’m at home?
The car was parked in the alley behind her apartment. But why?

He dragged her to the back entrance and jimmied the door open then did the same to her apartment and walked in. The most comforting place in her whole world now appeared dark and menacing. The man kept the lights off and pushed her on to the couch.

“Stay.”

She nodded. Would anyone think to look for her at home? What did he want with her? Too many questions flooded her mind. Her head pounded, her limbs trembled, but her stomach growled.

Maxwell looked at her. Guess her stomach growled loudly.

“Get up.”

Jenny stood and wobbled in her heels.

“Kitchen.” He directed her as if she didn’t know where it might be. “Get some food.”

“Okay.”

His voice hadn’t been nice, but the gesture was, and she didn’t trust it. She could run better on bare feet and would as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Jenny slipped off her shoes in front of the fridge.

“Are you hungry?” she offered, the refrigerator door open. Make friends with the enemy. Sun Tzu said that kind of stuff, right? Molly always said things like that. Asher probably thought like that too.

The man grunted and stalked around the kitchen, checking out the window.

“Find food quickly and shut the door.”

Jenny nodded. “I know you don’t want to hurt me.” He didn’t answer but went to each window, placing wires and small blocks on each. “I won’t tell a soul if you just walk out now. Please.”

What were those things? Alarms? Mini-bombs?

He turned and narrowed his eyes. “Find something to eat.”

She pulled a container of dip out of the fridge. “Sorry. Just trying to make conversation. I’m bad with quiet.”

Really, she wasn’t. She would prefer nothing more than silence and to be left alone. But that wasn’t going to happen. So she would butter him up. He might let down his guard and make a mistake, and then she could escape. And if nothing else, maybe he’d let her throw on some jeans. Her legs were freezing in the glittery boy shorts.

Maxwell looked into the hall but stayed nearby. “Try to keep your mouth shut.”