Urban Renewal (Urban Elite Book 1) (28 page)

Max

I do my best to listen in on my boss’ phone call and wonder if I’m doing it out of curiosity or because I know it’s Spider on the other end of the line. I hate that I even care. Jack ends the call and directs his attention to the hostage negotiator who’s huddled with him as they speak in hushed tones. Now, why the hell is Jack looking at me while the guy’s talking to him?

I find out when I hear my boss growl in his direction.

“I don’t give a damn what he’s demanding. No way in hell am I sending her in there. She’s a damn blogger, she’s not trained in hostage negotiations. That’s your fucking job, last time I checked.”

My heart begins to race when I realize the killer, the man who thinks he’s bonded to me, wants me in that room with him. He wants to meet with me to tell his side of the story. As delusional as this guy is, I have to admit that I’m in a unique position to get through to him. I have to step up. I straighten my shoulders and stride over to Jack.

“Jack, I’ve got this. Just think about it,” I say quickly as he tries to interrupt, “I think he’ll talk to me. I don’t know if he trusts me exactly, but he feels connected to me. He knows I wouldn’t usually do something like this, so he’ll appreciate the gesture and think we’re taking him seriously. If facing him and giving him a chance to speak his mind will save lives, I want to do it.”

Jack seems to have aged since we arrived on the scene, the lines that frame his mouth more pronounced than usual. But what really concerns me is that I’m seeing something in his eyes that I’ve never seen before—fear.

His Directive

“Yes, Detective, I want my little crime blogger in here, she should be with me. Here’s how this works: I talk to her, up close and personal, or I don’t talk. And if I don’t talk, no one lives. Have her bring in a notebook and a pen so she can write my story down. I want the public to know the truth about me, that I’m not some monster who cuts people up for absolutely no reason.”

I can see the confusion on my brother’s face as I end the call. No doubt he’s wondering who this blogger is that I’m making such a fuss about. He really has no idea.
Oh, this is going to be fun.

For years he’s been the one in control, now it’s my turn. And best of all, I’m going to show the world that he isn’t the saint he’s portrayed himself as. He’s no fucking better than I am. He just hides behind his medical degree while society overlooks me like I’m street trash. It isn’t fair.

“Hurry the fuck up and get that guy sewed up, it’s time for me to tell my side of the story.”

Max

My hands are shaking as I step haltingly down the long hallway that leads to the OR. I’m being escorted to automatic doors that will lead me back to the operating room. I hug the blue notebook in an effort to calm myself. I don’t want to project anything but ease when I meet this guy face to face. He’s already on the edge and I may be the only one who can keep him from going over and taking everyone in that room with him.

I slip my hand in my jacket pocket and silence my phone. I don’t want to be in there with no connection to the outside world. It gives me an odd sense of comfort and I find that I want so badly to feel safe right now. I struggle to get my breathing under control, struggling not to hyperventilate as I get closer to the door.

When was the last time I did feel safe, I wonder? A pair of sultry, dark eyes comes to mind and my breathing smooths out. Why the hell am I thinking about Spider right now? If asked, I’ll deny all knowledge -- but this is one time I wouldn’t mind feeling his big, dark overprotective eyes watching over me.

The door jerks open and an arm reaches out, grabbing me so roughly that I almost drop my notepad and pen. I step into the room and turn back to see a tall man leaning out the door, looking up and down the hall to make sure I’m alone. He turns back to me as he steps into the room. He looks me up and down, seeming to take in every detail of my appearance. It’s unnerving and I find myself wondering if I’ve done the right thing by agreeing to come in here. Knowing he’s obsessed with me from afar is one thing – seeing that obsession firsthand is another.

“Come here,” he snarls. “Raise your arms. I need to check you for weapons.”

I step forward and do as he says, gritting my teeth as he pats me down. I can’t resist testing the waters to see how he’ll respond. “I’m here because you wanted me here. I’m not armed. Why would I betray you like that? I’m not a fool, you know.”

“Go,” he snaps, waving a gun in the direction of a rolling stool in the corner of the room, “sit over there.”

I’ve got my marching orders from Agent Turner and the hostage negotiator. My first priority is to persuade this guy to clear the room for the safety of the patient and all those involved. I walk toward the stool, taking in my surroundings and making eye contact with the other people in the room. The anesthesiologist is calm but grim as he focuses on his patient, sparing me only a brief nod. The two nurses keep looking between Liam and his look-alike, as if they don’t believe the evidence of their own eyes.

I must admit, the resemblance is uncanny. Identical twins. There are subtle differences, of course, primarily body language and their general demeanor. Same hair, similar eyes, although Dr. Chambers’ eyes are infinitely steadier, whereas his brother’s gaze seems to never stay in one place too long, And of course, there’s the black eye that makes telling them apart a no-brainer. There’s one hell of a story here, that’s for sure.

Questions start forming in my mind and I have to keep them from tumbling out of my mouth. There will be time for an interview soon enough. But for now, first things first.

“So, I’m Max. But you know that already…?” I say, letting the question hang there in the air and cursing myself silently for my shaky voice that’s little more than a whisper. He just smirks at my obvious discomfort.

“Lance. My name is Lance Jenkins. Jenkins, because that’s the name they gave me when my bitch of a mother abandoned me. They probably pulled it out of a hat for all I know.”

“Oh, okay. Lance. Well, Lance, as I understand it, the patient here is ready to be moved now. I know I’d feel a whole lot better if it was just you and me in here.”

“I’m staying,” Liam says quietly, his eyes blazing as he glares at his brother. I wonder if his concern is for me, his brother, or both of us.

Lance waves the gun in the nurses’ direction. “Roll that patient out of here. You can all go, but
you--”
he points the gun at one of the nurses, stopping her in her tracks—“We need some sandwiches, coffee, and some drinks.” The nurse’s head bobs up and down like a bobble head doll agreeing with the crazed man. I wonder if she’ll really come back. I hope so because, even though the thought of food is not appealing right now, it would lend itself to a more relaxing atmosphere for those of us who remain. And I need this guy to let his guard down.

“Go!” he bellows, sending her scurrying to the head of the wheeled operating table. Her colleagues help her roll the patient from the room and panic rises in me as I watch them go. I hope she hurries back with that food. The last thing Liam and I need to deal with is a pissed off man with a loaded gun and an empty stomach.

Jack

“What the fuck were you thinking, sending her in their alone, Jack? She’s not a trained cop, she’s a fucking blogger!”

Spider arrived on scene a few minutes ago, and immediately tracked me down to rant about Max being sent in to talk to Liam’s look-alike. I remind myself that Spider is concerned about her; otherwise, I’d be teaching him a lesson about how I handle insubordination. In all fairness, it’s good to see him taking his responsibility of being her bodyguard seriously. But when things settle down around here, I’m going to have a long talk with him about his attitude. But in my line of work you have to understand people’s motivation and I’ve got him pegged. Spider’s protective instincts are in overdrive for a woman he’s much more intrigued with than he cares to admit – even to himself.

“She may not be a trained cop, but she’s no damsel in distress either. That girl’s a whole lot tougher than you give her credit for, man. We’ve got a killer here who wants to tell his story and he’s convinced she’s the only one that can do it justice. Ironically, she’s safe with him because of his obsession with her. If anyone in that room is in danger, it’s Liam, not Max.”

“I hear you, boss. Sorry. Did you say Liam is in there with her?”

“Yes, he refused to leave.”

“Well, fuck,” he sighs heavily. “Guess this is one time I’m glad he’s around.”

“Yeah, I have to admit I’m glad she isn’t in there alone. I believe this guy has enough of a soft spot for her that he won’t do anything to hurt her. As long as she doesn’t say or do anything to alter his perception of her, she’s safe.”

“What if she does?”

“Then we go in there with guns blazing, that’s what. We’ve got a visual on the room, and audio although it comes and goes. This is a teaching hospital so there are cameras installed discreetly for student observation. Let’s just hope for the best. She’s smart and she’s been studying criminal behavior for years, it’s time for her to put it into practice. She’ll do fine.”

Even though I’m saying everything I can to reassure him, I do have my doubts. I know how temperamental Max can be and I’m hoping she reins her temper in on this one.

“I hope you’re right, Jack…I hope like hell you’re right.”