have it. Don’t worry about that, father.” He drawled the last word, sneered it. “I’ll have my revenge, on everyone who deserves it.”
Blake’s heart broke completely then. Jason was going the way of Farley. He had no laudable goals, no future, no conscience. It would be so easy to walk away. He wanted to walk away. No, to run, as fast and as far as he could, to pretend that this son had never been born.
But that was where the problems had started, wasn’t it? He had turned away from Jason’s childhood problems, pretended they didn’t exist. Two people, one his beloved child, were dead as a result. His conscience would never allow him to live in peace for the rest of his life. Especially if he turned away again.
Rebelling against all that came naturally, Blake watched the guard take Jason away, and he vowed one thing. He would do all that he could to fulfill Christopher’s goals and the goals that should have been his own.
He would reach Jason somehow if it was the last thing he did.
Natalie felt like a tightly strung wire. Nearly a week had passed. Vincent was everywhere she went, and knowing he was always behind her made her aware of herself in a way that she never had been before. That was all too clear this morning, she noted, staring at the mess on her bed.
Clothes were tossed everywhere, taken from her closet, studied and discarded.
“Agh!” she yelled. “The man is making me crazy. I’ve never paid that much attention to what I wear. For the past few years, all my efforts have gone into my work. And I’m not going to let the fact that some man is constantly staring at my butt make a difference now.”
So saying, she picked up the closest article of clothing at hand and marched into the bathroom. Once there, she applied only as much makeup as was necessary to look professional. She donned the slim leaf-green dress, ran a comb through her hair and prepared to leave the house.
Almost without thought, she checked every window lock, the back door, swished every curtain into place so that no one could peek inside and closed the door behind her. Just as Vincent had advised her.
Exiting her apartment building, she couldn’t help but look for Vincent sitting in his black sedan across the street. That little move was fast becoming a ritual, even if it rankled that she couldn’t stop herself from looking each day.
But to her surprise, Vincent wasn’t there today. Derek, her nighttime shadow, was still sitting in his SUV. He waved to her as she moved out.
Vincent never waved. He just looked dark and brooding and determined. Ever since that day when he had traded words with Brad, he had kept his distance, ever watchful but not interfering with her life in any way. In spite of the space he maintained between them, she could never seem to ditch her awareness of him. Not just as a bodyguard, but as a man.
She hated that. So this was a good thing that Derek was here today, wasn’t it?
“Absolutely,” Natalie whispered. Besides, Vincent had assured her that Derek was very good at his job. She would be just as safe with him as she was with Vincent, wouldn’t she?
The fact that her back felt naked and exposed today was just ridiculous. She didn’t need Vincent to feel safe, did she?
Besides, she hadn’t received any new threats lately. Any day now, Vincent would tell her that he was being pulled off her case. The danger was over.
Vincent would drop out of her life just as fast as he had dropped in. She supposed that was a good thing. It meant that she was safe, and she didn’t really need Vincent. In any way.
Jason glanced out the window of the transport van. He stole a look at the guard driving the van. The man was nervous, his jaw tense with a nervous tic, his back ramrod straight. His hands were clenched on the wheel. Jason liked that. It felt good to scare someone after the long days of enforced confinement and humiliation.
It had been all he could do to contain himself these past few days. His head had been pounding and he had almost messed up badly when he had lost his temper with one of the scumbags who was housed in the same jail.
Small-time scumbags. Riffraff. Brainless thieves and drunks. Not a brain among them. No one who could manipulate the way he could. The temptation to try the blade he had bribed out of a guard had been almost overwhelming. Not that there was anything special about the knife. It had a serrated blade that would work well enough and would cause some extra pain. There was that, but he had been forced to pay an exorbitant sum and work too hard, convincing a Fortune TX, Ltd. underling that he had debts of honor he wanted to pay while he was locked up and helpless. The dolt had believed him and had sent him the money. The guard had come through with the knife.
As for the idiot guard, he knew which side his bread was buttered on now. When Jason had lost control with the convenience-store thief who had gotten too close and nearly caught Jason looking for a hiding place for his treasure, Jason had savaged him with his fists, feet and teeth, ignoring the temptation to try the evil blade. The knife was for later, and anyway, in the end the guard had been more than willing to make more easy money by hiding the knife for him. The idiot was probably sorry that his charge was being transported to maximum security, because now the gravy train would end.
Jason wanted to laugh. If only the guy knew the whole story about how things would end…
Well, he would soon enough. In fact, right now would be a pretty good time. The van was out in the middle of nowhere and there was plenty of forest for cover.
Jason slid his hand down beside the seat. The cuffs hurt like hell and made it tough, but then his whole life had been tough. Tough was the thought of facing a lifetime behind bars or a shortened life by getting juiced. Pain was nothing.
Finally he grasped the hidden blade and held it in his clenched hands.
When he looked up, he was staring into the eyes of the guard, the one who had placed the blade in just the right place.
“Just like you told me,” the man said. “I’ll take my money now.”
Yeah, like that was going to happen. Once the guards had transported him to max, the guy would have no incentive to stay quiet anymore. He might figure he could get more money by lying to the authorities and squealing, suggesting that things had happened differently than they had. Jason knew the type. Heck, Jason was the type, only much, much smarter.
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