I send a text message to Stan to reiterate he’s to keep alert, that I’ve had security threats lately. He replies that he’s waiting outside my building for Violet to come down and that he’ll ensure he’s vigilant. I quickly log in and see she’s on the bench at the end of the bed, pulling her shoes on, so I reply to tell him to message me before he leaves the curb to tell me she’s safely there.
It’s extreme, but I’m feeling the need.
I find myself checking her location twice more between the time he lets me know she’s in the car and the time I get off the plane. When I’m in the cab on the way to Jag’s, I phone her. She doesn’t answer, so I immediately call back with my teeth clenched. She answers cheerfully, saying she’s in a restaurant at the mall with Patricia and Alana. She says she’s good, and I ask if Stan’s around and she says he’s two tables away.
I’m still feeling tweaked. I briefly ponder poaching Will from his gig with the Ferrano family providing personal security. I don’t want to rock the boat with them, but I’m weighing options knowing I’ll feel better if I have someone watching Violet when I can’t.
My brother wants to go back to school. He hasn’t ever wanted to work for me before despite offers – wants to make his own way. Security is just a temporary gig that he has no trouble with because he’s built like a tank and the Ferrano family pays well. He wants to get his degree in personal training and nutrition, eventually open his own health club, which he wants to grow into a chain. Like me. His own man, but it’s obvious he’s watched and learned from me. He has an enterprising spirit, too. And I don’t like that it seems that family isn’t living as clean yet as I believed. I don’t want my brother in danger.
I stop my train of thought because Will is an adult who can make his own decisions.
In the cab on the way to Jag’s, I can’t stand the feeling I’ve still got, and decide to do something about it. I reach out to Wes Traynor and ask him if he’s up for resuming security detail over Violet. Immediately if he can. He replies within a couple minutes and agrees to start the next day.
I send him Stan’s contact information as well as Violet’s, so they can liaise.
Jacobs might be a Fed, but if this gives me an extra layer of protection for her, I’ll do it for now at least. It’s probably because so much shit has happened in such a short timeframe that I’m feeling this tweaked. As I gather more information, I’ll decide whether I need an alternate security source or not.
I send her a text as well, telling her she’ll be getting a call from Wes and he’ll be tailing her from now on unless she’s out with me, that she needs to keep him informed of her schedule and keep using Stan until further notice.
She responds to my text with a simple ‘ok.’
After I message Stan to say he’ll hear from Wes, I lean back in the seat feeling like I’ve aged these last few weeks. Once I’ve dealt with Iadanza, I should be able to relax. I hate that the little puke is getting so much of my headspace.
Right now I like the idea we had a while back of taking off after Christmas. A vacation sounds perfect. When I get home, I’ll get something booked and surprise Violet on Christmas morning.
***
Jagger is all business with me when I arrive. One look at him and I know he’s still pissed. I walk into his new apartment that’s almost as large as mine, though ten stories higher, and immediately spot Jessa, sitting on his sofa, arms folded, eyes on me with an icy expression. For a change, she’s not head-to-toe glamorous. She’s wearing sweats and eyeglasses, is makeup free, and has her blonde hair in a bun.
“Sweet pad, Jag,” I say.
“Thanks,” he mutters from behind me.
“Kill,” she greets, frost dripping from my name.
“Ah. Finally losin’ the Pooky?” I ask.
She scowls.
“We alone?” I ask Jag.
“My woman’s at work, so yeah.”
“Let’s get this out of the way now, Jess. Then I need a private conversation with Jag.”
“Oh, then I’m allowed to leave? You’ve got a lot of nerve, Killian Coulter.”
“I’ve got nerve?” I point at myself. “You come sniffin’ around, seduce my employee as part of whatever scheme you’re cookin’ and because that gets your ass kidnapped, I’ve got nerve?”
“Yeah, kidnapped by your hostage. At gunpoint!”
“Let’s talk about that.” I undo my blazer and sit down in a chair opposite to the couch she’s on. “Walk me through it.”
She reaches for her package of cigarettes on the table and lights one.