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Finally.
“Andy!”
“Hey.”
“How are you holdingup?”
There was a deep exhale. “I don’t know what else to do, Blaire. The senator has shut me out. I think he blamesme.”
“Why in the world would they blame you? I’m the one those assholeswant.”
“So Grant wouldn’t give you up, huh?” There was bitterness in his tone and even if I understood how he felt, hurt pinched myheart.
“I tried to convince him to give meup.”
“Listen,” Andy sighed. “I’m kinda drifting right now, hoping the senator or Gus will return my calls. I’m in Manhattan and was wondering if I could crash at your penthouse. I need someone to commiseratewith.”
“I would love nothing more than someone to talk to, Andy. I’m slowly losing my mind waiting fornews.”
“You think your guard dogs would let meup?”
“I’ll take care ofit.”
Iarguedwith Jake for fiveminutes.
“When everybody abandoned me at the ER, Andy was there for me, Jake,” I said. “He got shot because of me and needs my supportnow.”
“He’s going to mess with your head,” Jake responded. “He’s going to want you to take Val’splace.”
“As I should!” I gritted out. “But you’re here to stop me. So what’s the harm in letting himup?”
Jake glared at me for a second longer before allowing the building guard to let Andy into theelevators.
My friend walked in, looking haggard. Dark circles smudged his under-eyes and his already light complexion had become more pasty. Poor Andy. He was wearing jeans and a sweatshirt, a far cry from the suits and crisp white shirts he wore as part of the senator’s staff. His red brown hair couldn’t get more mussed up, but it was like he’d been running his fingers through itrepeatedly.
“Andy,” I whispered. I ignored the fear of rejection and walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He was stiff, but he gave me a token one-arm hug. “I’msorry.”
He sniffed a laugh. “Yeah. You must feel like shit, but I can’t hate you, Blaire.” His eyes were shifty, as if he wasn’t certain he should be here. He eyed Jake and the otherbodyguards.
“Come on, let’s go to the living room. Have you eaten? Do you want something todrink?”
“I’ll have a glass of water if you don’t mind.” He crashed on one of the couches with his forearm over hiseyes.
I was feeling more torn up by the second as I walked into the kitchen to fetch Andy his water. I wished Grant would call soon. It’d been over two hours since he’d left to meet his father in his Lower Manhattan office. Waitingsucked.
* * *
Grant
Grant arrivedat Thorne Industries and waited for his father who was already en route from the Manhattan Heliport. The senator was bringing in reinforcements, but he didn’t elaborate who or what. This was making him antsy and he wished he’d kept Blaire in a separate unknown location. Even if he knew his dad wouldn’t stoop to kidnapping her, the possibility had crossed his mind. There’d been a minute of charged tempers on that first phone call with his dad because Grant wouldn’t consider using Blaire asbait.
His office phone buzzed and the night guard announced the arrival of hisguests.
“Send themup.”
He couldn’t sit still, so he got up and walked out of his office, past the reception area, and waited for the elevator car to arrive. It didn’t take long. The elevator doors slid open and the senator stepped out flanked by two men as tall as Grant. Both were built—one had light blond buzz-cut hair; the other had dark hair. Both were about forty, but it was hard to tell with the blond one, there was a depth of experience in his ice blueeyes.
“Viktor, Sully,” the senator said. “You haven’t met my son, Grant. Grant, this is Viktor Baran and Sully—Gabriel Sullivan,” he said flatly, gesturing to each man in turn. “They work for Artemis GuardiansServices.”
