The Insiders by Tijan

FOUR

Everything happened simultaneously after that.

Bright’s phone buzzed. She gave the nod to her partner, and the door opened again.

I don’t know who I was expecting to come through that door. It could’ve been Chrissy coming back, or my father deciding to meet me in person, but I was not expecting the man who stepped inside our room. If I could call him a man, because he looked like a young man, like he was only a few years older than me. But no. Thinking on it, I was right the first time. He was all man.

He was hot.

Cognac-brown eyes, hair almost as dark as mine, a strong jawline. There were indentations around his mouth, making his lip so pronounced, and so tempting. His cheekbones were high and chiseled. Broad and defined shoulders. Lean, athletic build.

There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.

I was looking, and I shouldn’t be, but I was, and I was doing the calculating in my head, and yeah. This guy was ripped.

He was mesmerizing.

And he had power and authority and he knew how to use both of them.

He walked into that room like he owned it, like he’d been there the whole time, like everyone and everything belonged to him and we had yet to learn that fact.

The room shrank around him.

The air electrified. It became more energized.

Bright and Wilson both straightened, their shoulders rolling back.

They weren’t the only ones affected.

This guy didn’t even look at me, but I felt his attention. I felt that if I moved even a strand of hair, he’d know. My insides were turned inside out because, whoever this guy was, I already felt owned, and I hated that.

My body was warming. A fire was in there, building. My throat felt parched.

I felt zapped, all my nerve endings already at the ready, and it was just because this guy walked into the room.

He nodded to both detectives, who dipped their heads in return.

A chair scraped against the floor. A click of heels and both detectives were gone.

The door slammed shut behind them.

The brevity of the situation hit me hard, right in the sternum, and I swallowed over a sudden lump in my throat. I wasn’t sure if it was a good lump or a quivering one, but here we were.

It was me and him. We were alone in this room. And then another fact hit me square in the forehead. It hadn’t been my father watching. It was this guy.

Who was this guy?

He’d been the one on the other side of that camera. I felt it, the hairs on the back of my neck standing upright. Tingles shot through me, sweeping through me, making me feel more. Just … more.

I wasn’t sure if I liked this “more.”

He looked at me squarely, and I was pinned in place.

Then he spoke. “My name is Kashton Colello, and I am an associate of your father’s. No, your mother does not know about me, and yes, I am aware of who you are. I know what happened to you earlier tonight, and I am here to give you two options. You can leave with me, meet your father and your siblings, or you can disappear into a witness protection type of program with your mother.” He paused, just one beat. “Leave with me, meet your father, or disappear with your mother.” The corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. “Your choice.”

A second.

Two.

I stared at him, standing by the table as he was sitting, waiting, and I felt slapped across the face.

It took me two seconds to know my response. That was it.

I stepped in, placed a hand on the table, leaned in, and breathed on him.

“Fuck. You.”

I was given twenty-four hours.

I had a day and a night to decide. That was it.

Mr. Stick Up My Ass Kashton Colello hadn’t even seemed insulted by my response. There was no reaction on his face before he nodded. “Fine. Your mother is outside, waiting in an SUV. We’ll have you taken to a nearby hotel. You can decide tomorrow morning.”

Decide.

I wanted to give him the middle finger, and just about did. I was raising my hand when he spoke again, his voice so goddamn cold. “There have been other attempts.”

If I felt slapped by him before, those words punched me. Hard. Right in the gut.

He didn’t wait to let me process it, saying, still so fucking cold, “They tried to take your father. They didn’t succeed. Security doubled. They moved to your siblings. They came close twice. Security tripled.” A brief pause. “They’re going for the outliers now, the ones who aren’t protected.”

That was me. An outlier.

An outsider.

The outcast.

“They got the littlest one for ten minutes.” He stood. “And this is what we know about these types of people. They will try again, and they do not care about the ex-girlfriends or ex-mistresses, so while your mother will be safe, you will not be. If you return to Brookley, the quaint small town it is, they will try again. If you leave with me, your mother does not have to have her life upended. She can return there, live her life happily but away from her daughter, while you give us time to search out your abductors and eliminate this threat.”

And here we were, heading to a hotel.

We had two SUVs with us.

There was no word to describe this.

Everythingwas different.

I glanced over to my mom. Chrissy was gazing out the window, a slight excited smile on her face. When I got out to the SUV, she looked at me, but I only said we’d talk later. I might’ve growled it. Or grunted it. I didn’t know. I was still peeved, so I had transferred from the Numb Train to the Not Giving a Shit Train. Either way, she just seemed relieved.

We were driving through downtown Chicago, so her eyes kept going up, her neck craning to see the tops of the buildings all around us.

I recognized the look in her eyes.

She thought everything would be fine now. She was relieved, more than anything else.

I twisted my hands together in my lap.

Brookley had her job. Bingo night at the local VFW. My aunt Sarah. Chrissy was a godmother to two of my cousins. My two uncles. My grandparents. Her younger sister. There was a family tribe there, and they all had their own friends, who were my mother’s friends. Yes, there were issues and divides, but she wanted to be there.

My mom was tough. Hardworking. She never wanted a handout, refused them 102 percent of the time. She got into nursing school, dropped out for a year to have me, then finished the next.

I took that one year from her.

How could I take everything else from her?

“Oh!” Her hand grabbed my arm and squeezed. “Bailey.”

We were pulling into a hotel parking lot. The Francois Nova. It was one of those skyscraper ones, a hotel that could’ve been in a magazine. I might have been impressed a day ago.

Now it was just the last time I’d see my mom.

For a while.That’s what that asshole had said. He needed time. Things would get safe, and I could go back.

Right. I was going with that. It didn’t make my insides feel like they’re being ripped out of me.

“We’re here,” Chrissy said, just as the doors on both sides of the SUV opened and we clambered out.

We were surrounded by cement on a dark parking ramp.

Six guards stood around us, most facing outward, but one went to the door connecting the hotel to the parking ramp. He knocked once, and it opened.

Another two guards stood on the other side, along with a hotel employee. Make that two employees. A woman with her name pinned to her shirt, a pencil skirt, and hair pulled up in a tight bun waited for us. Another employee stood behind her, a bellhop. He was in full hotel uniform, even wearing white gloves.

The woman took us to our room, but it had to be inspected by the guards first.

My mom went inside, and I turned to look at the guards. They all watched me back, their faces impassive. I was going with my gut here. “You guys work for him, don’t you?” I didn’t know the setup, the hierarchies, but while my father might’ve been the big boss, I knew Asshole Kashton was their boss, too.

I didn’t get a response. I didn’t expect to.

“I’ll let you know my answer in the morning, and not a second before.”

Then I slipped inside, not feeling satisfied at all.

I checked the peephole. Two guards were outside the door. I’m sure they had one at each stairway, maybe even at the elevator too.

Chrissy came out from the bedroom. “This place is amazing.”

Yeah. It sure was. Amazing.

She headed for the bathroom. “They gave us clothes … and what’s this?” She picked up a small bag, unzipping it. “And toiletries. There’s almost everything in here we need, but no…” She was sifting through it. “I’m going to need some Tums. With the wine I’m planning on drinking tonight, my reflux will not be pretty.”

“They probably have some in the lobby. I’ll get you some later.”

I couldn’t bring myself to interrogate her throughout the rest of the day.

Maybe I’d already made my decision.

Maybe I wanted to enjoy this last day with my mom.

Or maybe I was already tired, knowing that tomorrow we’d be ripped apart, and I didn’t really know how long this would last.

Or maybe, just maybe, I didn’t want to hear her excuses for the lies she’d told me all my life.

Nope. I just wanted a day with my mom. I was going with that reason.

We ordered in lunch. Ordered coffee. Ordered wine.

It was after dinner when I needed to get a breather.

I used the excuse to get her Tums.

The guards didn’t want me to go, but I needed space. “Look…” I was suddenly exhausted. “I’m going with a feeling that Peter Francis owns this hotel. Am I right?”

They didn’t answer. Again, I didn’t expect them to.

“That means you probably have the entire hotel scoped out with security footage. That you probably have a perimeter set up around the hotel. That anyone questionable or someone who raises red flags will be removed quietly, but quickly. Right?”

Still no answer.

“So the risk assessment is probably less than ten percent if I go to the lobby to get my mom some antacids.”

Still no response. They just stared at me.

“Sixty percent of the adult population experience some type of reflux. That’s around seven million people.” I was quoting straight from the Healthline website. “I’m not asking to go buy a gun. My mom will be vomiting tonight if I don’t get her some Tums.”

Screw it.

I started down the hallway. “I’m going, whether you want me to or not.” But they were right behind me, and I was right. There was a guard down the hall, by the exit door, and he was moving to take point outside the room I just left. My mom was safe.

The lobby was deserted when we got there.

A gold and red rug spread over a marble tile floor, with red and white chairs against the far wall. The front desk itself had a gold trim around the edges, and there were two sweeping stairways that led up to the second floor, separating around two large posts. The same red and gold carpet covered the stairs and the second floor.

The lobby was small, but intimate and grand. I wasn’t surprised. Of course it would be, if Peter Francis owned it.

I started for the clerk but then saw a small shop across the lobby.

I asked the front desk clerk, “Can I get some antacids charged to my room?”

He started to nod, his hands going to his keyboard, but that’s when everything stopped and went into slow motion. This was the second time today that something similar happened.

The hotel doors swept open and in strolled Asshole Kashton.

Like Bright and Wilson, the guards all stood at their tallest height, shoulders back, head up, hands slapped to their sides. The store clerk almost mimicked them without realizing. He was ramrod straight and the epitome of professionalism as he bobbed his head in one firm nod. “Mr. Colello.”

Tension spread around this man.

Lovely. I was already tired of him.

He didn’t look over, but he was aware of me. I knew it like I knew I had two hands. I just did.

“Is he in?”

The clerk’s words almost tripped over themselves in his rush to answer. “Yes, Mr. Colello. We stopped allowing more guests as well.”

Mr. Colello. That’s what he called the guy. I could give him a different nickname.

Mr. Asshole.

Asshole Dipstick.

I could go on.

“Okay. Thank you.”

I was standing across the lobby, inside two walls of shelves that made up their store.

He turned without pause.

His eyes went right to mine, not stopping or hesitating on the guards.

Those tingles from before were back, spreading through me, racing up and down my spine, and I felt heat in my belly.

I wanted him.

And I wanted him badly, and holy hell, I hated that. I hated feeling that, knowing that, and as his eyes darkened, I knew he knew it all, too. The side of his mouth lifted up. I wanted to curse again, because he knew exactly the effect he was having on me and he found it amusing.

A whole new wave of humiliation crashed over me.

I had never been affected by someone like this, ever.

He started for the elevator.

Relief hit me, but also disappointment.

I just scowled.

But nope. We weren’t done, because the guard spoke up behind me. “Ma’am. We need to clear the lobby.”

Which meant I was elevator bound too.

Hewas walking ahead of me. It was almost like he was a living, breathing weapon. He had an inherent athletic grace to him.

I stepped to his side, then moved another step behind him.

It was petty. I felt like everyone knew why I did it, but I did it anyway.

I was not beside him. Beside him meant something, like I was there to engage, like I was his equal. Behind him meant something else totally, like I was submissive to him, like he was the boss and I was another of his employees.

So I was behind him and to the side. I did not want to engage, but I was not submitting either.

And he knew it too.

His mouth curved even higher.

The elevator door pinged open.

He went in, moved to the side, and now his eyes were on me.

He watched me step in next to him and raised his head to the guards. “Stay. I’ll send it down.”

“Oh hell no.” I started to step out, but his hand caught my wrist.

A zing of sensation went through me.

He pulled me back in, then tugged me to his side.

“What are you doing?”

As soon as the doors were closed, he let me go and stepped back to lean against the wall. He smirked again, but his eyes were trained on my lips. “I’m not here for you. Relax.”

My mouth flattened. “You relax.”

The smirk moved to a grin. “You have attitude.”

I looked away and tried to ignore the inferno his touch had lit inside of me.