Code Name: Genesis Page 16

  “Joslyn wants to have breakfast with her mom tomorrow morning, then go out and do some shopping,” I tell Cruce as we stroll. It looks like a relaxed meander to the casual observer, but we’ve both got our eyes peeled sharply for any bit of evidence to indicate her stalker has been here or for a potential weakness in our defense.

  “Want me to take them?” he guesses.

  “Yeah, and only because I’m going to interview another potential candidate for Jameson,” I reply. “He’s in California on business, so he’s going to stop by here.”

  “Anyone I know?” Cruce asks curiously.

  “Not unless international theft is your gig,” I answer with a laugh.

  Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Not my scene, but he sounds interesting.”

  “Trust me,” I drawl as we turn toward the house. “Saint Bellinger is quite the character.”

  “Well, then I look forward to meeting him if he makes your cut.” We move through the middle of the yard and walk toward the pool. I’ve yet to see Joslyn use it despite the fact it’s heated and the weather has been nice. Cruce stops at the edge. “If you’re doing some active recruiting, I’ve got someone you might be interested in.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Cruce nods. “His name is Malik Fournier. He’s finishing up an enlistment in the U.S. Marine Corps now. 2D Recon.”

  “I’m always interested in someone with a Special Forces background. Solid guy?”

  “The best,” Cruce replies. “He did a temporary detail at the White House and got to know the president pretty well. His brothers are professional hockey players. Lucas and Max Fournier, who play for Carolina Cold Fury.”

  Shrugging, I shake my head. “Sorry, mate. I’m a football kind of guy… and by football for you Yanks, I mean soccer.”

  Cruce laughs. “If you want to talk to him, I’ll give him a call.”

  “Do that,” I say head before heading toward the back door. “I’m going to go check on Joslyn.”

  “I’ll make another sweep of the perimeter,” Cruce says.

  I throw a hand up, calling over my shoulder. “Joslyn’s going to make dinner tonight. Figure we’ll eat around seven or so.”

  “Roger that,” he replies, then I put Cruce out of my mind. He’s been a good houseguest the last two days. Unobtrusive, yet he always has his eye on Joslyn the same as I do. I feel better having him here.

  I enter through the patio door that leads into the great room. The alarm chimes since we leave it engaged at all times, and I enter the code into my phone app rather than the keypad on the wall. Just a habit. It’s amazing how much shit can be utilized through a phone these days.

  It’s getting close to dusk. When I’d left Joslyn about half an hour ago, she was in her room reading a book. She’s got a window nook with a padded bench and fluffy pillows, and she seemed happy and content just relaxing, although I know appearances can be deceiving.

  Joslyn is asleep when I walk into her room. Head nestled on a pillow, legs curled under her, and her book face down on her chest.

  Smiling, I move to sit on the edge of the padded bench near her hip. My eyes drop to the book. There’s a bare-chested dude—amazingly built—on the cover.

  I pick the book up for a closer inspection. Apparently, Joslyn wasn’t sleeping deeply as she immediately rouses.

  “Hey,” she says in a raspy voice as she rubs her eyes.

  Cocking an eyebrow, I hold the book up. “Just what is this?”

  “It’s a romance book,” she snaps, but her lips curve up. She snatches it from my hand, then tucks it behind her back. “You should read it. Bet you could learn a thing or two, McGrath.”

  I give an offended grunt, shooting her a stern look. “There’s nothing in those books I can’t do a million times better.”

  “What makes you think they do anything at all?” she quips, eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “Based on the cover, as a consumer, I’d have to expect he has to do something other than flexing his muscles.”

  Joslyn laughs and pulls her legs up, wrapping her hands around her shins. She grins. “As a matter of fact, you’re a lot like some of the men in these books. Bossy, alpha, overprotective, and extremely great in bed.”

  “I am not bossy,” I growl with mock offense.

  “A little.” She holds her hand up, forefinger and thumb about an inch apart.

  “I am great in bed, though,” I admit as I puff my chest out. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’ll prove it to you again tonight.”

  Joslyn rolls her eyes, knowing it puts her ass in danger of connecting with the palm of my hand. But it’s too cute to call her on the carpet on it. I know exactly how much she loves what I do to her.

  “I’m grateful for your overprotective quality, though,” Joslyn says, her smile turning soft with a tint of sadness to it.

  “I would think it would make you happy, kitten,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “You know I will never let anything bad happen to you.

  Her gaze roams my face, her smile curving a little deeper. “I know that.”

  “Never,” I reiterate, leaning in closer to her.

  “Never ever?” she asks softly, head tilted in wonder.

  It’s a question asking for a commitment. While we’ve only been reconnected for a brief time, the void of those twelve years seems to have vanished for me.

  Has it for her?

  I reply to her question, making a promise I have no qualms in giving. “Never ever.”

  Her hand jerks reflexively in mine, but I just tighten my grip. She regards me with wide, questioning eyes. I can see deep within… she’s afraid to believe in what I just proclaimed.

  “Joslyn.” My voice is gruff, laced with emotion and a distinct understanding I don’t know how to put this all into words. “I hate you’re going through this but fuck… part of me is glad. It’s what led you back to me. And we’ve realized that big mistakes were made long ago, but I think we’ve both realized we never moved on after we broke up. That has to mean something.”

  “No,” she agrees with a smile. “I never moved on.”

  “I sure as fuck didn’t,” I mutter before bending my neck so I can brush my mouth across hers. When I pull back, I make sure her eyes are on me for what I’m about to say next. “You’re it for me, Jos. It was always only ever you. And here you are again—mine—and I’d be a fucking fool to let you go.”

  “Oh, Kynan,” she murmurs as tears fill her eyes. “I don’t want you to let go. I don’t want to let go. It’s so funny… I’ve never been more scared or vulnerable in my life, and yet—especially these last few days—I’ve never been happier. I’ve fallen in love with you all over again.”

  “Christ,” I mutter, the enormity of those words washing over me. Jerking her into my arms, I settle her in my lap. “I love you, too, kitten.”

  I remember back to the first time I’d heard words of love from her beautiful lips. It was in the lobby of the Jameson offices in Vegas. Joslyn had chosen to pass on a movie deal that would require her to move to Los Angeles. She didn’t decline because of me, but because it didn’t feel right to her. Her passion was singing, not acting, and it was the first time she’d ever defied her mother.

  She came straight to Jameson, we declared our love for each other, and I promptly moved her into my apartment. Three days later, Joslyn broke it off with me after her mother showed her the fake investigative report.

  Just a few days after that, she was living in Los Angeles and doing the movie she didn’t want to do.

  “How are we going to make this work?” Joslyn asked. “I mean… apart from the lunatic who is after me, we live on opposite sides of the continent.”

  “I expect we’ll be traveling a lot, kitten,” I reply with a smile. “Let’s dispatch this fucker first, then we’ll get busy figuring things out.”

  “Okay,” she says with what I’d term to be a dopey grin. I don’t see a single line of stress caused by this fucker who has been terrorizing her.
It’s beyond exhilarating I can cause that level of happiness within her, despite everything that’s going on.

  CHAPTER 24

  Joslyn

  “Your chariot awaits, milady,” Cruce says in the worst British accent I’ve ever heard. He smiles rakishly as he opens the passenger door.

  I glance at my front door, see Kynan watching us as he leans against the doorjamb, arms folded over his chest. He shakes his head and smiles before disappearing inside. Some guy is coming to interview with him this morning for a position at Jameson, so he’s not joining us.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I tease with a mock curtsy before sliding into the seat. Cruce is just one of those guys who is easy to like and joke with.

  He shuts the door and I fish my phone out of my purse, wanting to send a quick text to my mom to let her know we’re on the way. It’s a short five-minute drive from my house to the Four Seasons.

  I swipe up on my screen, let the facial recognition do its thing, then move to my texts. On our way. Be there in five.

  A reply chimes almost immediately, too soon for my mom to have responded. It’s from an unknown number and I almost don’t read it, but the first line not only catches my attention, but it also holds me hostage with mind-numbing fear.

  I have your manager, and I will kill her if…

  Tapping on the message, I bring the full message up.

  I have your manager, and I will kill her if you don’t do exactly as I say. When you get to the Four Seasons, head through to the north end of the lobby. There’s an alcove with phones near a service entrance door. Go out that door. Turn right. Walk through the employee parking lot. I’ll be waiting for you.

  A photo of Lynn is the next message to pop up.

  Oh my God.

  She’s tied to a chair in a semi-dark room with duct tape over her mouth. Her hands are bound behind her back, and she looks terrified.

  I make a small sound of distress deep in my throat.

  “You okay?” Cruce asks affably.

  “Um… yeah,” I reply dismissively as another text comes in below the picture.

  Time is of the essence. I am following you right now. If you don’t come to the spot I’ve described immediately, I will leave and kill Lynn.

  Jesus, no. No, no, no.

  I glance over at Cruce, noting his right hand propped casually on the wheel. Do I tell him what’s going on? There’s no way in hell he’ll let me meet this lunatic. He’ll hold me back, insist on calling Kynan in, and Lynn will die.

  I don’t dare turn around to search for the car my stalker is in. I don’t doubt him for a second.

  I read through the messages again. As I study Lynn’s face, I know I cannot let her die.

  Shakily, I type a quick message back to him. Okay.

  Good girl, he responds.

  The Four Seasons is up ahead. I quickly type one more text, but I don’t send it.

  My heart is galloping out of control as we pull up to the front entrance. I can see my mom coming through the lobby to the front doors. Making a split-second decision, I hop out of the car, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “I have to use the bathroom, Cruce. I’ll be right back.”

  “Wait a minute,” he calls through the open door. “Let me just park and I’ll go in with you.”

  I give him what I hope is a charming, carefree smile. “What… you think my stalker is waiting in the lobby of the Four Seasons on the off chance I’ll be strolling in? I’ll be fine. Be back in like two minutes.”

  “Joslyn… damn it. Just wait a second and let me park—”

  After I shut the door, cutting him off, I hold up two fingers, mouthing the words, “Two minutes.” I can’t hear him, but I can see him cursing.

  But I don’t have time to spare him another glance. I hop the curb, trot to the lobby doors, then make my way inside just as my mom arrives.

  “Joslyn…” Beaming, she opens her arms wide. We just had dinner last night, her and Darren having flown in on a late-afternoon flight, but no one would know it by her greeting.

  Giving her a hard, quick hug, I whisper fiercely in her ear. “I love you.”

  Laughing, she squeezes me. “I love you, too, honey.”

  After I release her, I give her a tiny push to the door. Cruce is out of the car, trying valiantly to hand the keys off to a valet attendant who is trying to get in another car, and I need to hurry.

  Pivoting to my mom, I urge her along. “Go out there and tell Cruce not to bother parking the car. I’ll be right back out, okay?”

  “Okay, sweetie,” she chirps, then disappears in a cloud of Chanel perfume.

  Half-walking, half-jogging, I make my way across the expanse of red tiles in the lobby. Straight to the alcove he described.

  I don’t break stride, continuing right to the service door he’d said would be there. Gripping my phone hard in one hand, I push through and blink at the bright sunlight. I’m disoriented a moment, forgetting what he told me to do.

  Then it hits me.

  Right.

  He said turn right.

  I do, blindly moving past a stucco half wall housing several HVAC units that are blowing loudly. The thundering of my heart within my own ears almost drowns it out, though.

  There’s a small parking lot with about twenty or so cars in two rows. I edge slowly down the first row, not sure what I’m even searching for.

  But then… a black economy car pulls into the row ahead of me, slowly heading my way. I step to the left, willingly putting myself on the passenger side as it approaches.

  Knowing I’m getting in that damn car with him.

  It comes to a stop, and the window rolls down. Bending, I get my first real look at my tormentor.

  I’m stunned by how normal he looks. Plain face, neither ugly nor handsome. Normal—with sandy-blond hair cut short and combed neat, mud-brown eyes, and thin lips. I had expected him to look like a monster. Maybe scarred. Deformed, perhaps. He was wearing a mask when he attacked me, and I always felt it had to do with more than just thwarting identification.

  “Hello, Jos,” he says, and the hair on the nape of my neck rises. I recognize his voice. “Get in the car.”

  Staring in the direction I just walked from, I half expect—and really want—to see Cruce bursting out the service door.

  “You’ve got five seconds, Joslyn,” my stalker says, and my head snaps his way. “Otherwise, I’m leaving, and Lynn will soon be a dead woman. I’ll drive off, go to where I have her, and slit her throat. Before she dies, I’ll make sure she knows you could have saved her. And when it’s all said and done, I’m coming after you again. And that sure was long winded on my part, so your five seconds are up. Get in the car. Now.”

  I jump, reaching for the door handle.

  “Get rid of the purse and phone,” he says.

  I glance at my phone—at my message typed and ready to go. A sharp pain hits me in the center of my chest for everything that’s probably becoming lost to me in this very moment. My thumb taps the send icon, and the message whooshes away.

  My phone falls from my hands. I shrug, making my purse land beside it. After I open the door and slide into the passenger seat, I feel physically sick to my stomach to be sitting so close to him.

  I force myself to face him. “You swear you’ll let Lynn go?”

  “Scout’s honor,” he says with a leering grin.

  “You have no honor,” I snap.

  The smile slides from his face, and he bares his teeth. “When I finish with you, you won’t be so sassy.”

  His eyes roam over my face, and I pray he doesn’t focus in on my earrings. They’re my only link to Kynan.

  He doesn’t pay them any mind. Instead, he says, “Put on your seatbelt.”

  I do as he says, woodenly pulling it across my chest and clicking it into place.

  “I’m sorry for this,” he says, and I’m surprised by the genuine remorse in his tone.

  “Sorry about what?” I grit out, seething with anger he’d d
are to apologize for his atrocities.

  “About this,” he says, and I feel a sharp pinch in my upper arm. A syringe is plunged in to the hilt. When he pulls it out, my head swims. I’m immediately dizzy, and it’s hard to focus on his face. “Sorry I have to drug you. I like it when you fight, but I need you docile for now.”

  “Fuck you,” I try to snarl, but the words are thick and slurred. He’s amused. I can tell by his laugh. It’s the last thing I hear before darkness takes me.

  CHAPTER 25

  Kynan

  When the doorbell rings, I leave my spot at the kitchen island, which has become my makeshift office since I’ve been at Joslyn’s house. She offered me her office, but I didn’t want to disrupt her normal flow of work throughout the day. She spends a lot of time in there, jotting down notes for new song lyrics and playing tunes she made up in her head on a keyboard set up in the corner, which she translates into written music.

  I make my way to the front door, disable the alarm, and open it to find Saint Bellinger standing there.

  I don’t know much about the man. He’s as mysterious as the night, but he comes with good references. The main one is from my former business partner, Jerico Jameson, whom I bought my company from. Jerico served with Saint briefly in the Marine Corps. He’s apparently a master of breaking into places and moving about unseen. Due to the fact he’s had military training, it makes him a prime recruitment opportunity for me.

  Saint is immediately distinguished by the fact he’s wearing a custom-tailored suit that probably costs more than what most people make in a month. His dark hair is perfectly styled. Despite his large build, he stands there with grace. Smiling, I stick my hand out. “Kynan McGrath.”

  His return grip is sure and strong. “Saint Bellinger.”

  I move out of the threshold, beckoning him into Joslyn’s house. Once he’s in, I close the door, resetting the alarm.

  He notices this, nodding at the security panel. “Not often I see a well-accomplished male feel the need to arm the security system while he’s home in broad daylight.”