King Maker (King Maker 3)

“They are. Thanks for asking.”

I nodded. “I was expecting a package.”

He frowned because there wasn’t a package.

“I don’t think there’s anything for you, but you can check.”

Thank heavens. He waved a hand toward the storage room door behind the desk. When the driver went to follow, I said, “I think I’ll be safe right there. Besides, the room isn’t big enough for you too.”

That was a lie, but my faithful doorman said nothing. What the driver didn’t know was that there was a door in the room that led to the elevators, which was where I needed to go.

I hated doing it, but I didn’t want this guy to watch me gather lingerie I had planned for Kalen. No doubt he would share that with his buddies and have a laugh at my expense.

Besides, Charles had been exposed. The threat was over. I’d be up and out of the apartment in less than five minutes. I just needed to get the garters that I’d worn the first night Kalen and I’d met. That and the box of lingerie he’d bought me that I hadn’t worn or packed. Hopefully, neither had been damaged during the destruction Charles had paid for.

After sneaking through the storage room door and hailing an elevator, I hoped all went as planned. I’d brought my purse and had my keys ready when I got to my floor.

It felt strange walking in, though the place looked as though nothing had transpired. Whoever Kalen had hired to clean the place had done a bang-up job.

Mail on the counter caught my eye as I spotted an envelope with my name on it.

It was postmarked and it had come from my former employer.

“Well, well, well. It took you long enough.”

This time I planted my feet as I lifted my head forgetting the letter.

“How did you get in here?” I asked, only to buy time.

“Kalen taught me, of course.” She spoke like it was obvious. “Hell, I wouldn’t be here if that man I’d known wasn’t back.”

I didn’t get her meaning. “Back how?”

“Kalen finally manned up and stole from his father. When I spotted those emails, I knew he remembered where he came from.”

So she wasn’t working with Charles. It was a question I’d neglected to ask before I’d left Kalen.

She flicked out a knife.

“And you think if you hurt me, he’ll take you back.”

“Hurt.” She scoffed. “Hurt didn’t work last time, lass. I’m going to kill yer.”

“He’s never going to take you back if you do that.”

“He will when he sees it was self-defense. I was only protecting him when I found out you’ve been stealing from him.”

“You just said, he was stealing from his father.”

She nodded. “But you’ve been taking money from his company. I have the emails between you and that Scott guy he’s been investigating. Interesting stuff there. I’ll show him all the messages between the two of you conspiring to pass off Scott’s kid as his.”

A chill ran through me.

“He’ll never believe it.”

“But it will come from your phone. I have the program to do it. See, phones don’t care if your thumbprint or face is off a dead person.”

I wished there was time to erase my phone, but it was too late. She lunged for me.

This time I was ready and sidestepped her. I had the presence of mind to stick out my foot so she’d lose her balance.

She tumbled forward, but rolled. She clipped my knee and I went down. The arc of the knife came ever so close as I bucked and fought as dirty as my father had taught me.

It was a battle of wills as I used all my strength to keep the knife from slicing into me.

I caught her chin with my fist and she seemed to sag. My mistake was I went to roll away. She struck and I saw stars. I didn’t give up, and this time caught her square in the face. Her eyes rolled as I rolled far away to breathe.

Only with the adrenaline leaving as fast as it had come, I felt wetness just before the burn. She’d gotten me and the bleeding was coming fast as was the darkness.

Forty-Three

I paced the hall, leaving an invisible path in my wake as Connor leaned on the wall.

Just as I suspected, he’d been innocent of everything. Having him here when I needed him most only proved I could always count on him.

“She’s pregnant,” I blurted. I hadn’t told anyone yet, and with Connor at my side, Griff on the phone, both my brothers, whether by blood and not, now knew the truth.

“Mac na galla,” Griff cursed.

If he wasn’t my best mate, I might have kicked his arse for saying son of a bitch. But I knew he wasn’t using it like the Americans and it wasn’t directed at my mother or me.