Switched (5 page)

Fear had her teeth chattering and the blood pounding in her temples. “Aaron.”

“Yeah. Listen to the lady, Aaron.” The attacker gathered her even closer until his hair brushed against her cheek. “You’ve got her scared. I can feel her shaking, and it doesn’t have to be this way.”

“Why do you want her?”

“I don’t care about her.”

Not the first time she’d heard those words. But she’d never faced dismissal at the end of a gun. Lied to, dumped? Yes. Threatened? Never in her life until the past few hours.

“So this is about money,” Aaron said, the disgust filling his voice.

“Isn’t everything?” The attacker motioned with his gun. “Move to the side.”

When Aaron obeyed, her heart dropped to her knees. They’d barely gone out, but she expected him to help…to do something before just handing her over. She tried to wrap her brain around what she thought she’d learned about him today and what was happening now. He’d rescued her in the bathroom. Abandoning her now without a fight made no sense.

“I need your gun on the floor. All of them. Even the ones I can’t see.” The attacker pivoted as he spoke, keeping her angled in front of him and between him and the potential exchange of fire.

Aaron’s knees bent and his hands started toward the floor. She wanted to shout and beg. She went for attack mode instead. A smart woman didn’t wait to be rescued.

She could kick out, maybe hit this guy at a vulnerable spot and give Aaron a minute to get off a shot. She’d just decided to launch when his furious gaze caught hers. With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he had her mind spinning in confusion.

“That’s it.” Her attacker braced his legs apart as he spoke. “You do the right thing here, Aaron, and we all go home.”

“Except me.” She knew that truth as sure as she knew anything.

The man chuckled. “I’m afraid someone has plans for you.”

“Who?” Aaron asked.

“Put the weapons down.” All amusement was wiped clear of the man’s voice. He was back to waving the gun around and promising pain without ever saying it.

This time, Aaron didn’t stall his movements. One gun clicked against the floor. The second one almost touched and then Aaron whipped it back up and shot at the attacker’s legs. The weapon fired and the shot boomed through the room.

Risa closed her eyes waiting to feel the sting of a bullet or have the man drop behind her, but nothing happened. Her attacker didn’t even flinch.

He chose to break into a full-belly laugh. “You missed.”

Aaron fired again, but nothing happened after the initial crack of the weapon.

“Guess it’s my turn.” The attacker’s finger moved on the trigger.

She screamed for Aaron to duck as she shoved her elbow against her attacker’s midsection with all her strength. Every cell, every muscle. All of her weight centered on unbalancing the man before he could take them down.

Everything happened at the same time. Aaron dove for her legs as the door to the stairs slammed open. She could hear him telling her to drop on top of him as a man filled the doorway and came into the hallway firing.

One minute she stood locked against her attacker’s body even as she struggled to slip out of his grip. The next a huge weight fell from behind her, nearly taking her slamming to the floor with him.

Aaron tugged her down, then wrapped his arms around her waist and took her with him in a diving roll. Her body slid under his as the room passed by her in a blurry haze. Gunfire exploded and a light shattered somewhere behind her. By the time the room stopped spinning she’d heard a roar of fury and a thud.

When she opened her eyes again, the attacker lay a few feet ahead with blood trickling from his forehead. Shock rolled over her until all she could do was stare. Violence on television, where actors got hit, fell and the action cut to commercial, didn’t compare to the real-life version where people rolled around bleeding.

Seeing someone die right at her feet elicited horror, pain, anxiety. But as she sat there, the overwhelming reaction was shock. The tips of her fingers tingled as the last of the feelings left her body.

A man in a suit loomed above them. Twenty-something, blond and lethal. His gun stayed aimed and his frown locked on Aaron.

She was done being a victim. Done with rotten luck. Bad karma, or whatever had been kicking her around for the past year, could go find someone else to stalk. Starting now. She scrambled to sit up, reaching for one of the guns.

Aaron caught her in midlunge. “Whoa. This guy’s with us.”

The blond dropped his weapon to his side as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. “How the hell did you miss from that distance?”

“That’s just it. I didn’t.” The grumble in Aaron’s voice sounded huskier than usual.

“Okay, now I’m confused. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She knew that was the understatement of the century, but she said the words anyway.

Aaron sat up and studied the gun he’d used. “This is the one I picked up from the other attacker. It’s loaded with dummy cartridges.”

“What?” The blond reached down and grabbed it. “Why would that be?”

“I have no idea. It doesn’t make sense. Who tries to kidnap a woman using fake ammo?” Aaron stood up and with a light touch, brought her to her feet beside him. “Are you okay?”

She couldn’t believe her legs held her. The sudden softness in his voice did nothing to calm the nerves that began jumping around inside her. “Speaking as the almost-kidnapped victim, no.”

When she looked up, both men were staring at her.

The blond man’s attention soon shifted to Aaron. “Any idea why she’s the target?”

“Angie is.”

“That’s just as confusing. I’d think anyone who wanted Angie hurt is downstairs.” The blond turned back to Risa. “Were you hit?”

She inhaled several times, trying to ease the anxiety flowing through her. Much more unwanted excitement and she’d need a hospital and a vacation from a job she hadn’t had long enough to earn time off.

As oxygen returned to her lungs and blood fueled her brain, some of the more obvious pieces fell together. “I’m guessing you’re Royal?”

The big man smiled and held out his hand. “Yes, ma’am. Royal Jenkins.”

If he felt the tremors shaking through her, he was nice enough not to show it. “I’m Risa and thanks for arriving when you did.”

Royal nodded at Aaron. “He guided me in.”

“How?” She’d been in that room, heard everything and had no idea reinforcements hid on the stairs ready to pounce. She didn’t want to think about the years of life she’d lost thanks to unnecessary panic.

“I told him I was coming and then I waited and listened in.” Royal tapped on his ear. “He dropped clues.”

Aaron’s exhale was loud enough to drown out part of the conversation. His fingers slid under her elbow. “Risa, answer the question.”

The burst of anger surprised her. “Which one?”

His gaze roamed over her, not in a heated way. In a ready-to-tie-her-down-and-amputate-a-leg way if he had to. “Are you hurt?”

The answer for his sharp change in personality hit her hard enough to make her stumble. Concern. She’d doubted him for a second, but his determination to see her safe really had never wavered.

A trickle of guilt washed over her. “No, just stunned.”

“Getting yelled at probably isn’t helping,” Royal mumbled as he looked first to the left and then to the right, anywhere but at Aaron.

“At the moment, I’m more concerned with keeping her alive than sparing her feelings,” Aaron returned.

“Apparently.”

Male grumbling wasn’t making the tense situation any easier. She needed them both focused on finding an answer. “Can someone tell me why this keeps happening? Why does someone want Angie? Why do they think I’m her? I don’t get any of it.”

“I wish I knew an answer to even one of those questions.” Aaron shook his head as he turned to Royal. “What’s going on downstairs?”

“It was under control when I left, but then I saw your guy on the stairs and followed.”

Another lightbulb flickered to life in her brain. “Which is why you went silent when Aaron tried to reach you earlier. You didn’t want him to hear you.”

“Nice.” Royal drug out the word nice and long, using more syllables than there were letters in the word, as he nodded in obvious appreciation. “I like smart women.”

Aaron grabbed his gun off the floor. “Why do you think I’m dating her?”

Royal’s eyebrow kicked up. “You are?”

Risa struggled to hide her reaction. It took all of her concentration not to let her jaw drop. Ignoring the lightness dancing in her stomach at his words wasn’t easy, either. This wasn’t the place or the time, but…well, she wasn’t dead yet.

Rather than make some big declaration, Aaron shrugged.

Disappointment rolled through her. “That’s your answer to your friend’s question?”

“He’s my assistant,” Aaron corrected her. When she broke eye contact, he put a hand on her arm and drew her gaze back. “And admittedly this hasn’t been our best date, but the next one will be better.”

She stared at him for a second, not saying anything, just enjoying the idea of any future outside this room, away from this building. “Promise me it won’t happen at Elan and I’ll think about saying yes.”

Chapter Five

Lowell followed his son, Brandon, into the small room down the hall from the holiday party. The internal space didn’t have a window or any witnesses, which Lowell assumed was the point. Brandon always did have a sense of the dramatic.

Since arriving, Brandon had stood in the corner of the party room huddled with his mother. Together they’d nearly blended into the Christmas tree. They certainly hadn’t mingled or helped with any of the necessary social niceties of this type of event. Hell, getting them to even show up to present a united family front had taken a threat from him.

Never mind the pressure he was under. Never mind the threats against his life.

Lowell blamed his wife for the untenable situation. Despite all his efforts, she’d raised a spoiled and oversensitive heir who frequently ran low on common sense. She’d had one task in her entire adult life—parenting a son—and she’d blown it as she did everything else.

Oh, Lowell had tried to step in, but attempts to toughen Brandon up had backfired. An overpriced therapist and a coddling mother undermined every tiny shuffle forward. Which was why Brandon failed at everything he tried.

Wanting this part of the evening over so that he could concentrate on some more interesting entertainment, Lowell agreed to listen. He walked to the small conference room table in the center of the room and leaned against it with his arms folded across his chest. The stance said
make it quick
and Brandon had better comply.

“What is so important?” Lowell’s disinterested exhale skipped across the room.

“How could you bring her here?” Brandon’s blue eyes flashed with fire as his hands clenched and unclenched beside him.

So dramatic.
“First, lower your voice. I am your father and I will have your respect. We both know I’ve earned it.”

“Mother left.”

Ah, yes. Sonya, the original drama queen.
“When?”

“Do you even care?”

“She promised she would be here.” Not that Lowell minded at this point. She’d come in, posed for a photo and hadn’t caused a scene. These days that was as good as he could expect from Sonya. Probably meant she was overmedicating again.

Besides, with her gone he was not obligated to play the role of dutiful husband. That game wore thin fast, as did her crying jags.

“She got in the car five minutes ago. You didn’t even see her leave the room.” Brandon’s chest rose and fell on heavy breaths.

Much more of this and the boy would whip himself into a full-fledged rage. Lowell was not in the mood for the useless burst of emotion.

“She was humiliated. You set her up to be a joke.” Brandon took a step forward, actually looked as if he might lunge.

Lowell’s scowl stopped the attempt, but he suspected stopping the nonsense would take a bit longer. “I have expended a great deal of money on private school, tutors and college to teach you manners. You’ve had a DUI disappear. Your college trouble with a forged paper went away without you ever stepping in front of a disciplinary board.”

“I didn’t ask for any of that.”

“Now would be a good time to show some gratitude for all this family has done for you.” The need to lecture never stopped. Brandon was determined to tarnish the family name, and Lowell had grown weary of the childish outbursts.

“I am twenty-three.”

“Then stop acting like a petulant child.” Lowell glanced at his watch. The five minutes he’d allotted for this sideshow was almost over.

Brandon either missed the not-so-subtle message or ignored it. “You put your wife and your mistress in the same room.”

Heat raced through Lowell’s veins. “That’s enough.”

“She was fidgeting and couldn’t hold her head up.” Brandon took to the topic now. His face flushed and his hands flew through the air as he talked. “What did you think would happen? Everyone was whispering. It’s bad enough you do that behind Mom’s back, while you’re sleeping around at the office, but to have it thrown in her face—”

“I said enough.” The boy just kept pushing. All that festering disappointment at who Brandon had become rushed up, threatening to explode.

But Lowell refused to give Brandon that satisfaction. As a boy he’d tried to goad and inflame. Everything would settle down in Lowell’s life with Sonya, and then Brandon would create some new problem, cause some new conflict that had to be solved and send the family spinning again. Lowell was done feeding that particular monster.

“This is not your business, Brandon.”

“She’s my mother.”

“And my wife. I will deal with her. I am sure this was nothing more than the onset of one of her usual headaches.” Only his wife would view living with every luxury in a three-story museum of a house she decorated herself as some sort of prison.

“I told her to go home.”

The boy never stopped. “What is your game here, Brandon? Still running to Mommy when Daddy won’t let you get your way? I didn’t say yes to you last week, so you are using your mother and her weaknesses to your advantage.”