More Layers: Book Two Layers Series (25 page)

“Oh my God. Why would he do such a thing?”

“He told her that he couldn’t live without her. She told him she never wanted to see him again and she was taking us home. So she grabbed Sam and me, put us in the car and we took off. She didn’t even wait for the guards to open the gate. She hit the gas and plowed right through it. We drove to the airport and in her crazed state, it didn’t occur to her that Sam and I didn’t have our passports. She sat us down and told us that if she didn’t catch the next flight home, she would end up murdering my father. She handed me some cash and a credit card. She then said she was sorry and told me to call my father to pick us up.”

“Oh my God.”

“You’ve been saying that a lot.”

“Because I don’t know what else to say.”

“Fair enough.”

“So you called him?”

“You’re kidding, right? It was the perfect opportunity to escape and go back to New York. Mom had given me over four hundred pounds and a credit card. I hailed a cab and I found a hotel room for the night. The next day I was going to figure out how to get ahold of our passports.”

“How old were you?”

“Ten, and Sam was five. The next morning we were discovered. It didn’t occur to me that they could trace a credit card. Gram was furious with my mother and me. So a week later she shipped us off to boarding school.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. None of it made any sense to me. Gram took us from the only home we’d ever known and from the only woman who really cared for us and loved us. I’m guessing that when the plan that she and my dad hatched backfired, she was stuck with two granddaughters that she didn’t know or knew what to do with. She shipped us off to boarding school because she was too stubborn to admit that she’d made a huge mistake.”

“You must have been...”

“Angry, confused, lost. I hated what she’d done to us. I hated her. The first two years I managed to get us kicked out of five schools. I was hoping as some point either Gram would give in or we would run out of schools.”

“But that never happened?”

“No, it never happened. She would never admit that what she had done was wrong and there are a hell of a lot of boarding schools in the UK. That’s when I decided to change the game. I was going to break Sam and myself out of school and get back to New York where we belonged. Back with Karen.

“Escape from boarding school?”

“With my plan and Margie MacGregor’s computer skills we almost made it. It was 1996 and Margie was my new best friend and a computer geek goddess. Back then most people didn’t even own a computer, but Margie not only owned one, she was writing her own code and programs.”

“What the hell did you do?”

“Hey, you’re the one that wanted to hear about my past. We don’t have to continue.”

“Like hell, you can’t leave me hanging.”

I laugh. “I’ll finish, if you think you can handle it.”

“Go on.”

“Every escape needs a good plan. First, we needed to get ahold of our passports. And lucky for me, this turned out to be easy. Gram took Sam and me to Spain over Christmas holiday but failed to collect the passports before we went back to school. With passports in hand we could travel. But, every underage traveler needs money; money for travel and money to buy adult help. That is where Margie became involved. She hacked into several of Grams accounts and transferred nearly fifty thousand pounds. I took five thousand pounds and paid a janitor at the school to take Sam and me to the airport. Once at the airport, I paid him an additional two thousand pounds to purchase our tickets and claim to be our uncle sending us to visit our grandmother.”

“Oh my hell.”

“We flew to LA. From there the plan was to take trains and buses using different aliases until we made our way to New York. We got to Texas, which I thought for a twelve-year old was pretty damn good. Gram was waiting for us at a bus station just outside of Dallas. Margie gave us up when they threatened to take her computer away.”

“God, Lex. Do you have any idea of how much danger you’d put yourself and Sam in?”

“That’s all you can say? I was hoping for, ‘I’m impressed’ or ‘you go, girlfriend.’“

“Not going to happen.”

I sigh.

“So what did Lizbet do?”

“The only thing she knew that would keep me in Scotland—she separated us. She sent Sam to a school near Inverness and sent me to a girl’s correctional school near London.”

“Correctional School? What is that exactly?”

“A school where rich girls are sent away to be taught a lesson or because no one has a clue what do with them. Most girls at the school were like me—misfits, different, bored, geeks. But some had criminal records—the real shit.”

“I can’t believe Lizbet sent you to a place like that.”

“I don’t think she intended to have me stay for more than a couple of months, but my parents and brother were killed and she...lost it. She stopped visiting me. She stopped bringing Sam to see me and wouldn’t allow me to come home on holidays.”

“How long were you there?”

“It depends on how you calculate it, either, 22.660110755 months, 95.59238095 weeks, 669.16666667 days, or 16060 hours.”

“God, Lex, I’m sorry, I can’t believe Lizbet would let you stay that long.”

“Like I said—she lost it for a while. I hated her, and my parents and even myself at that point. Stewart got me out of there.”

“Stewart?”

“Yes, he somehow got Gram to sign over temporary custody to her best friend, Katherine Black. After that I went and lived with her and Zane.”

“So that’s how you ended up with him?”

“Yeah, he was my best friend until I went to Oxford, and he went a’ whoring. And the rest is history as they say.”

“You lived a lifetime before you were even an adult.”

“And now you’re going to say ‘no wonder you’re so fucked up.’“

“I was going to say that I admire you.”

“Why?”

“Because despite all that you’ve gone through...you are the most beautiful, most generous, most loving, and most alive woman I know.”

“Oh hell, now I’m going to cry.”

“I love you more than my next breath, Alisa Alexia Lizbet Marie Grant.”

“I love you so much it’s hard to breathe, Jaxson Chase Ryan.”

Curve Ball

Alexia

“So, what did you find out?”

“Some very interest things, boss.”

“Do tell.”

“I can positively say that the Colettis were responsible for trashing your loft. I got real lucky with this one. My contact at the NYC police told me that some guy that worked odd jobs for the Colettis was arrested on drug charges a few months ago. He knew he was probably going to prison for a long time, so he made a deal with the DA and gave up all he knew about the family and what jobs he had done. He mentioned several B and E’s and one job in Soho—a loft that he and two other guys were told to trash but not to steal anything. He thought it was strange because they were even told to spray-paint specific expletives. Apparently the guy and his friends were higher than kites and the only other thing that he remembered was a strange painting of a man with multiple penises. He said it freaked him out but he didn’t know if it was truly a man with several penises or his drugged perspective of it. There was a picture of a painting in the insurance claim file that you gave me that fits that description.”

“Marco gave me that painting. High or not, the guy was right—it was freaky.”

“We know the Colettis were behind it but, we don’t know if the orders came from Carlo or Frankie. The guy was never given that information, nor did he ever work directly with either of them.”

“Did he know anything about the pictures or e-mails?”

“No, the guy didn’t do anything like that. They would have used someone else for that kind of work. And, unfortunately, we can’t use any of this information or press charges because it’s a part of an ongoing investigation.”

“What else did you find out?”

“I can’t confirm or deny that Mia and Martinson are having an affair or some other kind of inappropriate relationship. I can tell you that they meet about once a week at the Waldorf, same room, and their meetings last anywhere between thirty minutes to two hours.

“Interesting. What about Martinson’s medical records?”

“You asked me to check on any hereditary heart condition and I found out that he had both a brother and a sister pass away from a heart condition called Long QT syndrome or LQTS.”

“I don’t know how much you found out about this LQTS, but could Martinson pass it on even though it’s not affecting him?”

“Yes.”

“Very interesting.”

“Are you going to tell me why this information is ‘very’ interesting?”

“Sure. When Mia and Jaxson were married the first time, they had a baby that was born with, and later died from, a hereditary heart condition. Mia wanted to get pregnant again but Jaxson refused until he found out if he was a carrier of the condition. He had testing done and found out he wasn’t a carrier or the father.”

“Wow.”

“So you think that Martinson was the father of her baby?”

“I had a gut feeling that he was, but now I’m sure of it. I just need to find out if the baby had the same heart condition. But you and I aren’t big on coincidences.”

“Okay, let’s say the baby was Martinson’s. Jaxson already knows it wasn’t his, so where are you going with this?”

“Well, when Jaxson told Stephens that Mia’s baby wasn’t his. Stephens told him that he would end their contract that they had and clear all of his debt if he promised not to tell anyone that the baby wasn’t his.”

“So he must have known it was Martinson’s.”

“Yes, I believe he did. Mia also ended her blackmailing of the former Ryan partners when Jaxson threatened to go public about her pregnancy.”

“So what are you thinking?”

“We know that Carlo Coletti and Martinson have some issues. We don’t know what they are, but Martinson is married to his sister. So, they’re family and I’m guessing that’s why Carlo puts up with him. But...if Carlo were to find out that Martinson is having a thing with his goddaughter...”

“It wouldn’t be good for Martinson.”

“No, it wouldn’t.”

“This gets more complicated by the minute.”

“This is what we know and don’t know. We know that Jaxson Sr. was killed because he knew something he shouldn’t have or got involved with something he shouldn’t have. We know that Frankie Coletti, Martinson, and Stephens were involved with Will Harris and the outside audits. What we don’t know is how they were involved. Were they in on it from the beginning, or did they find out later and want in on the action? We also don’t know Carlo’s involvement. If I were to guess, I’d say that Carlo wasn’t involved with Harris and the others. He might have known about it, but he’s trying to distance himself from Frankie.”

“I agree.”

“There is so much that we don’t know. And I’m guessing that our FBI friends aren’t going to share since Gram got involved and ended their arrangement with Jaxson.”

“Has she said anything to you about all this?”

“Not much.”

“I wonder how much she knows.”

“I’d say more than we do.”

“I just had a thought. Do you think that Martinson could be the father of Mia’s baby this go-around?”

“Not unless Mia was able to get a hold of the DNA samples and mess with them somehow.”

“So, it’s a possibility?”

“Lee, when it comes to Mia, anything and everything is possible.”

* * *

After Lee leaves, I sit at my desk and think about what he said about the DNA test. Jaxson is convinced that Mia’s baby is his. Despite everything that Mia’s done, he has been there for his daughter. He’s never missed a doctor appointment, has showed up at the hospital every time Mia claimed to cramp, spot, faint, or go into premature labor.

You’d think that I’d be happy for him and admire him for putting his feelings aside and taking care of his kid, but you’d be wrong—I’m not. Yeah, I’m one selfish pregnant-assed bitch. But I can’t help it. It is what it is. Every time he’s with her, he’s away from me and away from our sons. Mia’s a game player, a user and abuser and she deserves no part of my man.

But damn her, she’ll always have a part of him and I guess that’s what it boils down to. She will always be a part of our lives because they have a child. Now don’t go getting all bent, I know it’s not the kid’s fault and I care about her welfare and wellbeing. I just don’t want Mia to be in my life, my kids’ lives, my family and friends’ lives...I don’t want the kid to be his. There, I said it and I’ll say it again. I, Alexia Grant, don’t want Mia’s baby to be my man’s baby. Now I’m officially a bad person, and will go to hell. Okay, I’ll be living there off and on, paying my dues for all the crazy-assed, selfish things I’ve done.

There is a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I say.

Jaxson opens the door and with his first step into my office, he takes my breath away, as always. How can one man look so fine? I mean seriously, girlfriend—just look at him. Every friggin’ time I see him I either want to lift my skirt and bend over my desk or kneel down in front of him and open my mouth. Jesus Christ, woman—got pregnant hormones? It’s not like I haven’t gotten any. I thought that when we started to live together and see each other almost every day and sleep in the same bed almost every night; things would begin to cool down. But just the opposite has happened. I’ve been getting it a lot, but it never seems to be enough. The more we do it, the more I want it.

“Hey, babe,” he says as he walks over and plants his fine ass on a sofa that sits across from my desk.

I will never be able to look at that sofa again without thinking about...us.

It all started on Monday. Jaxson came into my office and I all but tackled him (okay, I did tackle him like a linebacker) and pushed him onto the sofa. Once I had him down, I didn’t even take the time to pull his pants down. I just unzipped, pulled out, lifted, moved aside, straddled, sunk, moaned, rocked, came. After I used him like a five-dollar manwhore he pulled me up and off, turned me, bent me over the back of the sofa, moved my panties aside and took me like a pregnant whore. I came; he came, pulled out, zipped up, and then walked out without saying a word.