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Malcolm stands, fixing his cufflink before extending a hand. “Good to see you, Kyle...” his attention then turns to the wife “...Clarissa.”
“Likewise, my friend.”
“It’s been a long time,” they answer in unison and then smile, the first one I’ve seen since picking the couple up, but that drops again when the manila folder in front of Asher is opened. That’s when Clarissa’s expression darkens and she turns her head toward her spouse, openly glaring. “This isn’t necessary, Kyle. Please stop this nonsense.”
“No.” The response is cold. His body is tense and he’s breathing harshly. “We need to make sure you’re protected at all costs. Everything of mine is yours, but this makes it lawfully binding.”
“Please.” There’s a broken plea, the tone of a woman who’s hurting, and I flip my eyes to the security guard standing just behind her chair. They sit two chairs from mine with hers being the closest, and the way he hovers seems possessive, almost challenging.
Fingernails drumming on the table pull my attention, back toward the owner and Malcolm nods, the action barely perceptible, but acknowledging what I see.
“Any questions before we begin?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Go on, Clarissa,” Asher says, giving her his undivided attention and I notice the guard’s hands clench from the corner of my eye as I turn to look at Mrs. Bennett. “What concerns you?”
“I just see no need for this. Nothing will happen to my husband.”
There’s a tinge of anxiety in her tone and her husband reaches out, intertwining their fingers and placing their united hands atop the table. “It’s just a precaution. Nothing else.”
“Your money means nothing to me.” Her face turns toward his. “I need you safe and with me.”
For some reason, I look at Mariah at that moment and take in the almost wistful expression on her face. The smile curling at the corner of plump lips and the quiet sigh that escapes. As if feeling my eyes on hers, she looks over and at once, a flush of pink dances across her soft skin—from her cheeks to the very top of her chest where the silk of her top begins.
You okay, I mouth, and she nods quickly before turning her attention back to Malcolm’s clients.
“...do this for me.” I catch the end of Kyle’s sentence and then watch as the woman beside him nods, but her eyes become glassy.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.”
“Clarissa, I understand your concerns, but let me assure you that this is a necessary step for any man in your husband’s shoes. This isn’t to lead him toward an impending ending, but to give him the peace of mind that you’ll be taken care of no matter what.” Malcolm pushes the envelope in her direction, and I move it the rest of the way, grabbing a pen from the pile at the center of the table between us.
She looks my way with a forced smile in thanks before picking up the pen. “I’m doing this for you, not because I want to.”
“I know, love.”
Mrs. Bennett signs her name and then closes her eyes. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly before staring into his eyes. “I did that for you, but if you ever—”
She’s cut off by a sudden curse from behind her and a bullet that lodges itself high on the wall across from where they sit. Her screams rend the air and so does the sound of multiple guns being cocked, but it’s a missed shot, and I have her guard on the floor with my weapon drawn to his temple before anyone has time to dislodge.
My foot is on his hand with the weapon; I aim for his shoulder and then a knee. The first makes him writhe, while the second splatters the back of my leg and hip.
No one moves, but I see Clarissa’s going into shock and then the appreciation on Kyle’s face when I bend and knock the man unconscious with the butt of my Glock. I also notice the sudden paleness in my muñeca’s face, but I can’t acknowledge it right now.
I’ll deal with her after the room is cleared. That flash of worry doesn’t sit right with me.
“How? What the?” Bennett lifts his crying wife from her chair and walks Clarissa to the other side of the room, an arm possessively around her midsection. He’s shielding her from the scene, her face buried in his chest and body shaking.
“Kyle, get her out of here. I’ll meet you later.”
“Yeah, we’ll head back to the hotel. I’ll—”
“No.” Malcolm holds up two fingers. Plan B is in effect, which is the use of a backup escape for clients of this nature. “Use my penthouse. I’ll have someone drive you.”
