He kissed me quickly again. “I have work to do. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“You will,” I said.
“Good. Tell your Mom thanks.” He turned and walked off.
I watched him go, wondering what the hell was going to happen with all of this. From what I could tell, Bruce and Cox, assuming they were working together, had all of the cards. All of the pressure was on Carter. I didn’t know what he could possibly do to get us out of this mess.
He seemed calm, though, calmer than I felt. Even talking about it didn’t seem to ruffle him much, and he had every right to be pissed as hell. He was being attacked by people that he thought were his friends, or at least people that he thought were loyal. Bruce Walker was never his ally, but at least they worked together for the good of the company.
Now he was being forced out of the job he created, the world he built. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was going through.
As I walked back into the apartment, I decided that I was going to try and help him relieve some more stress the next time I saw him.
24
Carter
Just like I thought it would, the call came the very next morning. It was maybe a bit sooner than expected, but I knew they were going to get in touch sooner or later. There was just no other move to make.
“Hello, Carter,” Bruce said.
I frowned, leaning back in my office’s chair. It was around eleven in the morning and I was just thinking about lunch when my cell rang. It said the number was unlisted and unknown, and though I don’t normally answer calls from unrecognized numbers, I was in unusual circumstances.
“Calling from a pay phone?” I asked him.
“Something like that. Though I’m not sure those exist anymore.”
“They do. They’re just uncommon.”
“Well. I didn’t call to discuss phones.”
“I bet. Called to blackmail me some more?”
There was a short pause and then Bruce chuckled. He was one smug son of a bitch.
“Yes, something like that,” he said.
So, he was confirming it. He wasn’t even bothering to deny that he was the one behind the letters and the threats. He must have been very, very confident, that piece of shit.
“What do you want?” I asked him.
“Come upstairs,” he said. “Floor twenty-eight. It’s empty right now. We’ll talk.”
“Why—“
But he hung up the phone.
I stared at the line then dropped it on my desk, sighing. I didn’t know what was waiting for me upstairs, but I knew that I couldn’t put it off. I opened a drawer in my desk and took out a small handgun, slipping it into the waistband of my suit. I smiled to myself ruefully. I always wanted to carry my gun for good reason, but now that I had to, I wished I didn’t need it. Life was funny that way.
I wasn’t a fucking gangster. I wasn’t a fucking killer. I was just a man that built a company and knew what he wanted. I wanted to control what I made with my own hands and I wanted to fuck my stepdaughter. I wanted her to no longer be my stepdaughter one day, hopefully soon.
I didn’t want unreasonable things.
I stood, adjusting myself, then left the office. “Hold my calls,” I told Evelyn as I walked past. Briefly, I wondered if I should let her know what I was doing, but I figured it was best to leave her out of it. At the end of the day, Evelyn and Emily were innocent of everything. I was the one that they wanted, and so I was the one that should shoulder all of the burden. I wouldn’t put her in any more danger than was necessary.
I got into the elevator and rode it up, trying to control my nerves.
This was the moment I had been waiting for. I was finally going to speak face to face with Bruce, the bastard that had been harassing me. We were going to hash it out, and I was going to figure out what my final move had to be. After this, I could plan.
But part of me thought he was just going to try and throw me out of a window. Killing me would make all of his problems disappear, though murder investigations could be a real pain in the ass. Still, I knew Cox, and if anyone could get away with murdering me in this building, it was him.
I shook my head, marveling at how easily I could imagine someone trying to kill me. I never thought things could get this low, but they had, and I suspected they could get lower still.
The elevator doors dinged, pulling me from my thoughts. I stepped off and looked around at the empty, half-built office. Plastic sheeting hung from the bare rafters and partially deconstructed cubicles filled the space. There was trash on the ground, mostly papers and files.
“Bruce,” I called out.