Billionaire Misery (11 page)

“None of this was my father’s fault!” The yell exploded from her mouth, and she clapped a hand over it. Her heart stopped as a thought, so traitorous it stunned her, rose up.

Her father had known who he was dealing with, and he’d chosen to do it anyway. He’d wanted the money just as much as the other men in his crew. He had had big plans for that money—a nice long life in some remote tropical country with her mother at his side, both of them sipping margaritas and enjoying the rewards of his big play.

She couldn’t think of that. She couldn’t. Her father had once told her that there was a high cost to doing business, and that sometimes that cost was a guy winding up smeared on a street. She’d always thought that he had been talking about riding and heading a crew, but what if he had said it to console himself for doing the one thing he had sworn he would never do—lead his crew into a drug-dealing lifestyle? Down a road of deceit and darkness.

She tried to yank her arms out of Craig’s grasp, but he wouldn’t let go. His handsome face was too close to hers. His lips were parted, almost as if he were about to give her one of those earth-shattering kisses she loved so much. Her heart raced and her eyes locked on his full, soft lips, the full lush curve of the bottom lip and the sharp delineation of his philtrum above.

“Jessie, I love you and I’m not letting go.”

T
hose were words she’d wanted to hear for so long, from anyone. Her life had been an exercise in loneliness and ambition ever since the day her father died. When her mother died, it had only intensified, and she could see that now. She whispered, “I can’t love you, Craig. I can’t. Not anymore.”

His grip grew more forceful. “Are you saying you did before you knew he was my father?”

She realized he had her there. She shook her head, “Don’t do this to me. Please don’t.”

“Don’t do what?” There was a trace of anger in his words. “Don’t tell you I love you? Don’t say I know you love me too, and you’re letting something out of my fucking control, or yours, or fucking anyone’s, to stand in the way of something that could be special? Or should I not tell you that you’re letting revenge blind you? I get it because I did the same fucking thing. You know where that got me, Jessie? Exiled. Left out in the wind, all alone.” His eyes burned with a fire she had never seen before. “Don’t put yourself outside the person who loves you. It’s not worth it. We have enough on Wilkes... I’ll testify. I hate being a rat, but I’ll do it. If it’ll give you enough revenge to finally let go, I’ll do whatever I need to do.” He stared at her, laying everything bare with that look. “But tell me, Jessie, when will it ever be enough?”

That question struck at the heart of everything. When
would
it be enough? Her father’s old crew was all either dead or locked away for the rest of their lives. The men who’d killed him were dead. Now Wilkes would go down.

And it wasn’t enough.

Pain sliced through her. Katie was a Wilkes. Craig was a Wilkes. She loved Craig, and she was really starting to like Katie. How could she when they were Wilkes? What if one day she realized that, not only was the revenge she’d get when Wilkes went down not enough, but that she wanted his children to suffer too? Was she that dead-set on revenge? Was seeing them suffer something that she would need to feed that revenge too? She was horrified by the idea, but she also knew just how deep that need for revenge went, whether she wanted it to or not, and she knew that that raging need might never be satisfied.

She didn’t want to hurt Craig or Katie, but she might do so simply because the need to avenge her family ran so deep inside her. “Craig, you weren’t there, stuck behind a false wall while your father was killed. You weren’t sitting in a tiny rental place with an eviction notice on the front door and a disconnection notice for the electricity on the table, waiting for a mother who never came home again.”

He stared at her without sympathy. “No, I wasn’t. And you weren’t at that home where the foster parents beat us with belts. You weren’t at the group home that had a sadistic man in charge, and who delighted in telling the youngest kids that they were there because they were bad and unlovable. You weren’t there when we were forced to go hungry. Maybe the same things happened to you? I don’t know. But what happened to me didn’t happen to you. I used to want to go back and do all the same things to those people that they did to me, but you know what? I can’t. And even if I could it wouldn’t matter, it wouldn’t change what happened. Jessie, you have to see that. You have to break the cycle.”

“How can I love you?” The words were a whisper. “I can’t. I can’t love you, knowing that your father...”

“Put me into the foster system without a backward glance, told the world I was dead, and then wrecked his daughter’s life by pretending I was dead—and making sure she knew she would never equal up to me?” His eyes blazed. “I can’t undo any of it. I don’t even know how to talk to Katie. From the moment she walked into Morgan’s life I knew she was my sister, and I wanted to tell her—but I couldn’t. Wilkes kept us apart even after she met Morgan.”

She started to weep. Fat tears rolled down her face. “Don’t, Craig. Please. Just stop. I can’t. Please. If you care about me at all, just stop right now. Give me some space, and let me think.”

He released her then swept her into a tight hug. His warm, firm body pressed against hers, bringing both comfort and desire. She sagged into him, her heart torn between the misery of the past and the future that Craig represented. He said fiercely, “I’m not giving up on you, or us. I’ll give you space because you need it, but that’s not the same as walking away, Jessie. I’m not walking away.”

She wiped her eyes and whispered, “I am,” and then she did.

In the living room of the suite, Katie sat bent over the files. Jessie looked from her to Morgan and then asked, “How’s it going?”

Katie looked up, her face white with anger. “You were right. It’s all here... the payroll and the shuffling of funds from a dummy corporation to the trust, and back to the company. This is the whole scheme, the pieces we didn’t have before. These are the names of the men who killed the crew.”

Jessie said, “Everything?”

Katie shook her head. “I think so. I need a computer to do the rest of it, but even without a computer there’s enough here. My father paid those men to kill the others, and then he paid Craig to...” her voice trailed off and her eyes went to the bedroom. When she looked back at Jessie, her eyes were haunted. “He’s really my brother, isn’t he?”

Jessie heart ached something fierce. “Craig had a test done, and it was a match, so...I’m sorry.”

“Don’t blame him,” Katie said softly. “I’m not mad at you for being a cop, although I’m sure Morgan is, and I’m guessing the men you rode with who are about to go to jail will feel differently. You did what you had to. I get it. But don’t blame him for what our father did. Don’t. It’s wrong.”

A lump formed in Jessie’s throat. She swallowed it down. “I have to contact my boss.” She went to the phone and dialed the number she used to contact Fields. When he answered, she said, “It worked. I’ve got the Orphans president, and Katie Wilkes. Craig, too.” Did he know Craig was Blake Wilkes’ son?

Fields sighed with obvious relief. “You did it Lieutenant! Where are you?”

She took a long breath and told him.

“I’ll be there. I’m coming to get you. Good job, Jessie.”

“Wait. There’re too many dirty cops out there, Director. And dirty agents too. I need help, but I want clean cops. Get me rookies fresh out of the academy, ready for a gunfight because we just beat Wilkes’ ass and ran off with his files. He’s going to want blood, and I’ve no doubt we’re screwed. This is big. Bigger than anyone imagined.”

Fields blew out a long breath. “That’s going to take some time, Jessie. How long can you hold it together?”

“Until you get here.”

“It’ll be morning.” The words were urgent. “Jessie, I need to know—”

She interrupted him, “I can’t talk. You have until morning then we’re on the move. I can’t stay here longer than that. We checked in and it’ll be safe for tonight. No longer. There’s a shit ton of rich people gathered at Wilkes’ tonight, and they’ve taken over all the posh hotels, so we’ve got cover. People will think we’re with them, at least for a little while. Wilkes isn’t going to broadcast what happened to just anyone; not in the middle of a party. He’s got goons. So we aren’t going anywhere tonight.”

“What if Wilkes runs?”

“You need someone on him. I’d say like five minutes ago.” She hung up. Weariness sank in. She could see that Katie and Morgan were tired too, and she also couldn’t help but notice they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. She said, gently, “Why don’t you two call it a night? I’ll take the first watch.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” Craig said, coming from the direction of the first bedroom. “You might need another gun on your side.”

Morgan looked at both of them. He wanted to be alone with Katie. It was obvious, but he was worried about leaving them alone.

Jessie pointed to the bedroom. “It’s okay, Morgan. We’ve got this.”

Morgan’s eyes narrowed. “Am I going to wake up to find him in handcuffs?”

Craig grinned. “Actually, she prefers the handcuffs.”

There it was, that same old sardonic and often frat-boy humor of his that made her want to punch him or fuck him, and she never knew which she wanted to do more.

Morgan and Katie headed to bed.

The sudden silence grew deeper. Craig sat down beside her and said, “I hope your boss isn’t in those files.”

“Me too.”

Silence grew longer again. She turned to him, meaning to speak but, before she could, his mouth captured hers. Jessie knew she should resist. Yet she didn’t. She couldn’t.

His mouth tasted of peppermint and Scotch as his tongue moved into her mouth, found her tongue, and teased it until they were kissing deeply. Her breath died then started again as his hands slid to her neck and then upward, his fingers resting right below her jawbone.

She whimpered softly as she surrendered to his touch and kiss. Her hands found his shoulders and then ran down his arms, finding the outlines of his hard muscles and smooth skin.

He pulled away, his breathing heavy as he stepped back and began unbuttoning his shirt. His gaze never left hers.

She reached over and pushed his hands away to help him and, as he tugged out of his shirt, she stared at the bullet-proof vest. “Damn, you’re hot,” she mumbled. The mixture of biker and cop look beyond sexy.

Craig pulled the Velcro straps off and winced as it came across his rib cage. Jessie stepped close and helped remove the vest. Her hands felt cool against the heat of his skin. She ran her fingers over the bruise already forming where her bullet had hit. She bent down and ran her lips over the skin. “I’m so sorry,” she mumbled. Her fingers curled around his belt as she steadied herself.

A groan deep from the back of his throat escaped. His hands gripped her elbows and pulled her up to face him. “It’s fine,” he muttered, his eyes ablaze with hunger. He held her and, as he kissed her, he backed her up to the large leather couch. The back of her knees brushed the edge and she slowly sank down into its softness, pulling Craig along with her.

His kneeled in front of her and slipped his hand into the slit of her skirt, starting just above her knee and sliding up her inner thigh. He growled when his hand came across her gun. “That. Is. Fucking. Sexy.” His hand grabbed the material of her red dress and he pulled it up over her hips. The slit fell open, exposing her black lace thong and the black lace garter holding the weapon. He pulled his lips away and looked down. “Fuck,” he murmured. “A woman who can handle a pistol. That’s a fucking turn-on.”

She grinned slyly as she removed the gun and set it on the table beside them. She reached for the garter, and his hand stopped her.

“No. Leave it.” His eyes stayed glued to her legs and hips.

“What about the dress?”

“I’ll rip that to shreds,” he said as he undid his belt and pants. They slid down his hips, and she saw the outline of his erection pressing hard against the black boxer briefs.

She wanted him inside her. Now. All the anxiety and stress of the past day broke free, and she needed release from it. She wanted to forget about everything except how good he felt inside of her. She leaned forward, biting his shoulder as she reached around and pulled his briefs over his perfectly curved ass. She felt his cock escape and press against her thigh.

Not wanting to wait a moment longer, she reached for the thin strap of her thong and heard Craig’s quick intake of breath as she pulled it to the side, and moved her hips so the head of his cock pressed into her wetness.

“Jessie,” he said hoarsely before his hands spanned her waist, and he slid into her.

She fell back against the leather couch, her shoulders and head landing on the back edge. The movement lifted her hips and with her red heels, she pressed into the cushions to give her more freedom to rotate her pelvis.

The position was perfect: Craig on his knees, thrusting his hips as he slid in and out of her. She heard something tear, and felt her thong fall away from one hip. Grunting, she moved harder against him. His thumb began to rub her wet nub, and it sent her into a frenzy. She held her breath, and bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. Heat, friction, and passion drifted and mingled, then culminated in a long slow exhale and a fierce rhythm that he matched, until her body exploded into a million ripples of pleasure.

She dropped her chin down and lifted her head off the edge of the couch to watch Craig find his release. He stared at her, his body glistening with sweat. He saw her watching as he came, and reached to touch her face. She slipped his finger into his mouth and sucked as he released everything inside her.

Slowly she lowered her hips and he dropped his hands to her knees. He pulled his pants back up and did the buckle.

She glanced at the closed bedroom door and then the hotel room door as she pulled her dress back down over her hips and, in a somewhat more decent position, keeping her garter leg exposed purposely. “We’re supposed to be keeping watch.”