Grounded (Up In The Air #3)

CHAPTER TWO

Mr. Violent

I descended the stairs, rushing to the elevators. A security team awaited me at the elevators. A team…

I blinked at the three austere men in suits and the one woman who managed to be the most intimidating of the bunch.

Blake nodded at me, speaking first. “Ms. Karlsson, let me introduce you to the rest of your security detail.” She pointed to the man closest to her. He was massive with muscles and obviously armed under his finely tailored suit. His dark hair was cut very short and his features were severe but appealing. “This is Williams.”

“Ms. Karlsson,” he said, nodding at me politely.

I nodded back, trying to file the name into my memory. I was apparently going to need to learn a lot of them, with this much security.

The elevator car arrived and Blake waved me inside. I walked in, trying not to feel intimidated as the four of them flanked me.

Blake cleared her throat. “We need to hurry. Mr. Cavendish won’t be pleased if you’re late.” She quickly introduced the other two men.

One was shorter than the others, at least an inch shorter than me, if I wasn’t wearing three inch heels. He was still intimidatingly swollen with muscles though, and his short blond hair made him look unquestionably ex-military. Blake introduced him as Henry.

The last one was my height almost exactly in my heels, with medium brown hair and smiling brown eyes. He was less severe than the others, and more attractive, but he still held himself in that disciplined way that had law-enforcement written all over it. Blake introduced him as Johnny.

I thought it was odd that some of them used their first names, and some their last names, but I didn’t ask them about it. I had been conditioned from a very young age not to pry.

It was late June, and hot as hell in New York. I was thankful for my lightweight clothing, since the heat and humidity instantly attached themselves to me the second we stepped outside. My security flanked me closely as we moved from the elevator to a swank limo that was lined up directly with the lobby entrance.

I tried to act as though I wasn’t uncomfortable with my extremely affluent settings and my ridiculous overabundance of security, but I felt very stiff as I moved from the elevator to the car.

My security team arranged themselves as though they had choreographed it, which I supposed they had. Blake and Johnny joined me in the cab of the vehicle, Henry taking shotgun, and Williams driving. The short ride to the Cavendish property was a strange affair. Blake maintained complete and utter silence, and Johnny seemed almost too friendly to fit in with the rest of the security guards I’d met so far.

“So, Bianca, how are you liking the move to New York?”

I blinked at him, nonplussed. I’d gotten so used to how the other bodyguards were professional to a fault that I hadn’t been prepared for even idle chat. And the question…

“I haven’t really moved here. I’m going back and forth from Vegas. But I do like New York. I’ve had a route here for years, with no plans to change it.”

Johnny shot me a bewildered look. “You’re keeping your job? You’re staying a stewardess?”

I eyed him suspiciously. I wasn’t one to pry, but Johnny apparently was. “Well, yes. It’s my job. Why would I quit?”

“Um, maybe because Mr. Cavendish is spending four times what you make a week on security for every single one of your flights—“

“Enough,” Blake interrupted him harshly. “You know better, Johnny. If you upset Ms. Karlsson, Mr. Cavendish will fire you. Hell, he’ll fire all of us.”

The car grew painfully awkward after that, as I had no idea how to respond to such an unexpected outburst from a stranger, and of course I wouldn’t, since I didn’t owe anyone any explanations about my life. The nerve…

I brooded all the way to our destination, staring out the window, my face a blank mask.

I had never been inside the Manhattan Cavendish Hotel, but I recognized the colossal building. The blue, modern reflective glass windows that lined the entire building made it stand out as a new and sparkling gem amongst skyscrapers.

My security detail moved into their well-choreographed formation as I stepped out of the car, escorting me into the lobby as though I were a threatened head of state. I felt ridiculous.

I had no idea where to go, but luckily I didn’t need to. Blake led me unerringly through the sumptuous marble lobby.

We were nearly to a bank of well-guarded elevators when I heard a female voice call my name. Surprised, I turned to see who it was, and stiffened.

Jolene sauntered over to us, a lush smile on her lips. She was beyond scantily clad, wearing only the tiniest bike shorts I’d ever seen and a sports bra that was so minuscule I didn’t imagine for a second that it could actually do its job. I couldn’t guess what she was dressed for. I’d almost have thought working out except that she was wearing sexy black sandals and her hair was down, hanging in curling ringlets around her shoulders and back.

Johnny whistled appreciatively as she approached. He stood directly at my right but I didn’t spare him a glance. “Hottest f*cking chick I’ve ever seen,” he muttered, not quite keeping it under his breath. Okay, I was not a Johnny fan; it was official.

Jolene tried to move close to me, but Blake got in her way before she was within three feet of me. She pouted a little, but it was obviously an affectation. “Bianca! How are you?”

I had always considered myself a controlled person. Things rarely came out of my mouth unless I meant for them to. I knew right away that this would be one of those rare times when my brain would not be doing the talking. “What are you doing here? And why are you dressed like that?” I asked her coldly.

She gave me a look that made me stiffen. It was pointed and knowing. She was up to trouble. “I just got finished working out. This place has a great gym. And I’m dressed like this because James loves to see my skin. He says I have the sexiest stomach on the planet.” As she spoke, she ran a manicured hand from her throat to the low waist of those obscene shorts. She did have a lovely stomach, all well-toned hollows and dusky skin, her waist ridiculously tiny, especially compared to the oversized breasts that nearly spilled from her top. She exuded sex, and I hated her.

My breath caught at her implication. Was she saying that she was here to see James? That he was still seeing her? Was she flat-out lying, or telling some twisted version of the truth? Either way, I was sick to death of her, and I’d only met her twice…

“Are you saying that you’re here to see James? That he invited you here? Just speak plainly, because I have absolutely no patience for these games,” I told her in my blankest, coldest voice. That voice was an old defense mechanism for me.

She pursed her lips, running her tongue over her teeth. I wanted to smack her. I was shocked by the urge, but even my shock didn’t seem to make my sudden rage abate.

“None of your business,” she said petulantly, crossing her arms, which pushed her fake, ample breasts even higher. That bra was so useless that I could make out just the barest hint of the top of her nipples as she pushed them up.

I couldn’t believe that James had spent so much time with this woman, even with her over the top sex appeal. To my mind, he was the epitome of class, with his charm and his manners and his impossible beauty, whereas she seemed to relish her own trashiness.

“It is certainly her business,” a voice that made me want to melt spoke from behind me. A big, warm hand pressed into the nape of my neck, gently brushing aside my long hair to settle there possessively. I didn’t look at James. I was too angry and upset and just plain hungry for the sight of him.

“Why are you still here, Jolene?” he asked coldly. “I told you to leave this morning, when you tried to barge, uninvited, into my office. Do I need to have you escorted from the property?”

A raw expression passed over her features so briefly that I thought I might have imagined it. Her beautiful face swiftly worked itself into a satisfied smile. She flipped her curly black hair behind her shoulders, thrusting her breasts into prominent display. As though they needed the help. “I’m here with Scott. He’s staying in the penthouse, and I’m his guest. Are you going to ask him to leave, as well?”


James moved close against my back, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I could tell by her eyes on those arms that Jolene did not appreciate the sight. “Perhaps I’ll tell him what you’ve been up to. Just how tolerant do you think your husband will be if he knows that you’ve been up to your old tricks?”

She stiffened, looking just a touch alarmed, before schooling her face into a serene expression. “He won’t believe you. And even if he did, you’d never do that. You know how much it would hurt him.”

“It’s becoming very clear to me that the truth couldn’t possibly hurt Scott as much as you have, Jolene. I don’t have an ounce of patience left where you’re concerned. Keep that in mind.”

A movement caught the corner of my eye and I glanced behind Jolene, to where a figure was eating up the ground as a large man strode purposefully towards our group.

He was tall and lanky but still moved with the fit stride of an athlete. His coloring was similar to James’s, with light brown hair and very tan skin, though his had most likely come from the sun. As he got closer, I saw that his turbulent eyes were dark brown. At a glance he might have resembled James, but on closer inspection, his good looks were more rugged—less refined.

“I told you to stay away from my wife,” the man growled as soon as he was within earshot. I realized with a little jolt of surprise that the man looked very familiar. I couldn’t place where, but I had definitely seen his face somewhere. “Yet somehow, every time I turn my back for five minutes, here you are. You need to let her go, James.”

James stiffened against me, but his tone was surprisingly bland when he spoke. “You need to think about what you’re saying, my friend. She hasn’t been honest with you, and if it was up to me, I’d never set eyes on her again. Your wife has been stalking me and my girlfriend, and I have had enough of it. I’m in a serious, committed relationship, and I want nothing to do with her. I didn’t touch Jolene when I found out she was your wife three years ago, and I most certainly wouldn’t now. If I could go back in time and save you some pain, Scott, I would have never touched her at all, and I certainly never would have introduced her to you. She’s not who you think she is. She’s not worthy of the pedestal you’ve put her on.”

Scott did not take his words the way that I knew James had intended him. I could tell by the sincerity in his voice that James had only been speaking the brutal truth.

Scott sneered. It made his face ugly. “Watch your mouth. You’re talking about my wife.” His raw gaze turned to me. “So he’s in a serious committed relationship with you, huh? You should know that he doesn’t know the meaning of those words. He’ll toss you aside like all the rest. If you’re lucky, he’ll pass you off to a rich friend when he’s done with you.”

I was turning into James’s chest even as he moved. I buried my face in his neck, gripping my arms around his ribs, holding on tight.

“Don’t,” I murmured into his neck. It stopped his movements. Scott had been trying to goad him, and I knew it had worked, but I needed James to control his temper—to control his fists. James wrapped stiff arms around me, as though unable to ignore my affectionate gesture, even in a rage.

“If you ever speak to her like that again, you will regret it,” James said, his voice filled with an awful rage.

Scott snorted, and even from that noise I could tell that his temper was every bit as close to the surface as James’s. “You’re worried what I’ll say to her? You f*cked my wife, James, God only knows how many times, and you’re worried that I’ll what…hurt your latest f*ck’s feelings?”

James turned me gently, ushering me to the elevators directly behind us. He stroked his hand over my hair, and I could feel that it was trembling. “My love,” he said, his voice hoarse, but still managing to be tender. “I need you to go upstairs. Please, wait for me. I’ll be joining you momentarily.” He pressed the button as he spoke, still clutching me close.

I wanted to say something, wanted to plead with him not to do anything rash, not to get himself into trouble, or worse, hurt, but I couldn’t seem to make myself speak.

The elevator stopped, the doors opening, and I stepped inside without a word. Blake and Johnny filed in behind me, and I was relieved that at least two of the bodyguards remained with James.

The elevator doors closed and we began to go up. I had no idea what floor we were going to, or even how many floors there were. I glanced at the panel to see, but my eyes just glossed over and I lost my train of thought.

The elevator finally stopped and I followed Blake out. My mind distractedly noticed that my surroundings were rich and opulent, my heels clicking smartly on dark marble floors, but my mind was still stuck on what could be going on downstairs—what I’d been too much of a coward to stay and watch, or even stay and prevent.

A young, polished brunette greeted us from behind a massive desk. “Ms. Karlsson, Ms. Blake, Johnny,” she murmured as we passed her. I wondered how she could have known me by sight. No doubt it was obvious by my armed escorts…

All of this was just a distracted, distant thought, as well, as Blake led me into a huge office that had windows lining more walls than not.

Blake did a thorough search of the office, checking every inch of the space and inside of the two doors that attached. Johnny stayed close to my side as she did so. I thought they were a little overzealous, but what did I know?

Blake finished her search, giving me a severe nod when she finished. “All clear, Ms. Karlsson. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.”

I heard the door click shut behind me. I dropped my purse somewhere on the floor as I made my way to the windows. I noted absently that the office decor didn’t have the James touch. The mood of the office was all old-fashioned New York, with an antique desk and ancient hardwood flooring. The chair behind the desk was antique brown leather, as well as the couch. Even the rugs had an old money feel. It was so uncharacteristic for James that I stood pondering it for a long time, letting the strange decor distract me.

When that grew tiresome, I moved to the window, looking sightlessly at the spectacular view of Manhattan.

I had no idea how long I stood there like a statue before I heard the door open and then close behind me. The click of a lock being engaged was unnaturally loud in the quiet as death silence of the room.

“Turn around and look at me,” James said after a long moment, his voice low and rough.

It was insane, it was unreasonable, it was self-destructive…and masochistic, but I grew wet at the sound of that violence-roughened voice.

I turned around.