Saddled, chapter 22 (Patreon)

Once the car reached the main road, John said softly, “Thanks for coming.” He’d known that Elena wouldn’t abandon him, but he had started to really worry about how much pain he was going to endure before she showed up.

“We weren’t about to leave you in there,” Elena snapped.

When Jackson gave John a dirty look, John ducked his head and accepted the silent censure. Elena was strange about gratitude or apologies. Both tended to make her retreat into some asshole version of herself.

“You really landed in it,” Jackson whispered.

“This I know.” John glanced over his shoulder at Noah in the back seat. “Thank Lauren for me.”

“She doesn’t need thanks for doing her job,” Elena snapped. Clearly she was in full bitch mode. Noah glanced over at her with an almost amused expression. “What did they want from you?” Elena asked John. Her voice was still clipped and her accent more noticeable than normal.

“They wanted to record a statement that I worked for you and you rented me out as a whore to Davidson.” John turned his attention to the morning traffic. Everything was so damn normal, but no one had stopped to save John’s boots. He wiggled his bare toes against the dirty carpet. He hadn’t brought a second set of shoes, so he needed to get his car and then find a cheap shoe store.

“Did you give it to them?” Elena asked.

John twisted around in his seat. “Hell, no!”

Elena leaned forward, fury in her expression. “What? What the fuck is wrong with you? This is not a spy novel, and you’re not an agent enduring torture for love of country! If someone wants to come at me, you fucking let them.”

John gritted his teeth. “I am so sorry for covering your ass,” he said with as much sarcasm as he could muster, “but in case you didn’t notice, they were all morons. I saw their faces. I knew their names. I figured the second they didn’t need me, they were going to kill me. Funny thing—I wanted to live.” John was so angry that he couldn’t stop staring at Elena, daring her to say one fucking word.

“We all need to calm down,” Noah said. He shoved a cold bottle of water in John’s direction. “Everyone in this car cares what happens to everyone else, so let’s save the hate for people who deserve it. Like Robinson. That guy is a schmuck.”

“He’s going to be a homeless schmuck when I’m done with him,” Elena said darkly. “Anyone who touches him or one of his projects is officially blackballed from the agency.” Elena poked a finger in Noah’s face. “Tell Lauren that. Tell her to find Helene’s list of poisoned meat and add that twatwaffle’s name to the top of it.”

“Got it.” Noah took out his cell phone and started texting.

“That reminds me,” John said. “They took my phone. I need to call my brother and the hospital.”

“We need to talk before you do that,” Elena said.

The hair on John’s arm stood on end. “Talk? About what?”

“I needed a story to explain why you went missing,” Elena said as she took out her own phone and appeared to focus on it rather than John. “You and I both know you never would have walked away from your mother in the hospital, not after what you went through to get her into the program.”

Now John knew something was wrong, and if Elena was avoiding eye contact, catastrophically wrong. “What did you tell her?”

“I asked Logan to tell her something. I thought he would be able to come up with a more plausible story.”

That was almost logical. But it didn’t explain Elena’s sudden discomfort. “Logan?” John prompted. There was more to this story.

“A couple of kids in a boat went missing up around Lords Cove. He told her you were going to take the boat up there because you knew the area and the Coast Guard couldn’t find their ass with both hands.”

That was unnecessarily harsh. John might think of the Coast Guard as second to the kids who grew up running boats through those small islands, but he wouldn’t have said it out loud. No doubt Logan could sell the story to the others, though. “I can’t believe you went to Logan. How did you even explain your involvement? He works in Hollywood. If he talks to people about his brother working for Briarwood, someone is going to know the company and know that you’re the head of it. Don’t you think that’s going to look suspicious?”

“Yes, it would.” Elena looked up from her phone. “That’s why I sent Clive.”

John’s brain whited out. He absolutely lost the capacity for language. Clive. Clive Davidson. Before John’s brain could come back online, Elena continued.

“And your brother believes Clive is involved because he is your boyfriend. You will need to talk to Clive about his conversation with Logan to make sure you don’t make any mistakes.”

John shook his head. “Oh no. No, you did not send my client in to meet my family.” The horror that filled him was unlike anything he had felt before. Shame was in there as was anger, but the specific stew of emotions was so complex that John couldn’t even explain how he felt.

Elena looked up from her phone. “If I had another option that would have kept you safe, I would have taken it.”

“Just don’t say anything!” John threw his hands in the air in disgust.

“Hey! Driving here,” Jackson objected loudly when John’s hand came too close.

Before John could apologize, Elena spoke. “One of them would have called the police. Robinson is an amateur, and amateurs panic. I couldn’t afford to have your name show up on the news.”

“Police won’t do anything for what… forty eight hours?”

“That’s a complete myth.” Elena’s voice made it clear she considered John an idiot for not knowing that. “If the police have a reason to believe something is wrong, they can put out a BOLO immediately. I didn’t know what story you had told your brother about last night, but since the job with Mia came up at the last minute, I knew you would have given them some sort of excuse in case you were late.”

John grimaced. He saw the problem because he had told Logan he was playing bodyguard. That might have raised a few red flag, but John would not forgive that easily, not when Elena had violated the core rule—keep the client away from your real identity. “I can’t believe you even told him my name, but you sent him to my family. My family, Elena.”

“Robinson sent your information to Davidson, and if I didn’t sent Davidson off on some chore, he was going to be in the middle of this rescue screwing it up. He’s one hell of a producer, but he doesn’t have experience with hostage negotiation.” Elena crossed her arms and glared.

“I don’t care what sort of Machiavellian schemes you have going on in your own life, but you had no right to drag my family into this.”

“I was trying to keep you safe.”

“So, what? You promised Davidson a year of free rides on my ass if he would cover for you?” John demanded. “Because that’s closer to the truth. You’re covering the damn agency.” The second the words came out of his mouth, John regretted them. First, he knew how seriously Elena protected her assistants. But far more importantly, Elena’s anger vanished and a cold, dark fury seemed to settle over her. She leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.

“I don’t give a fuck about Robinson trying to out the agency. I’ve weathered worse. I didn’t want to go to your funeral, and before you take this bad attitude out on Davidson, he didn’t ask for anything. Not one fucking thing. In fact, he offered to pay a ransom. He might have signed over rights to this project of his to save you, which is why I didn’t give him that option. People like Davidson have to be stepped on, not negotiated with. So you get your head out of your ass before I forget that you’re running on adrenaline and fear, both of which impair good judgment.”

A shiver went down John’s back, and he had to admit that he had pushed too hard. Noah was carefully staring out the side window, his back to Elena, and Jackson had his hands on ten and two as he stared intensely at the traffic.  “He wanted to pay a ransom?” John asked. Hopefully that would be a slightly safer subject.

Elena sighed and leaned back. “God save me from stupid people,” she said in a voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Excuse me. It’s not like I got any sleep. I’m tired. And confused. Mostly confused.”

“I would tell you to go to your hotel room and sleep, but I couldn’t find you registered at any of them.” Elena rolled her eyes. “I’ve registered you at the Westin where your brother is staying. You’re in the Imperial suite; your key card is waiting for you at the front desk.”

John grimaced. That would cost a small fortune—per day no less. “Elena…”

“No!” She cut him off and raised her hand. “I am angry and exhausted and I still have a mess to sort out because Helene is no longer in my employ. I do not have time to scratch your ego under the chin. So go to the damn hotel and get some rest.”

John nodded. Money meant less to Elena than it did to John, so he could suck it up and accept the gift. He shifted in his seat to face forward, and Jackson gave him a side eye before mouthing the word “moron.” John probably deserved it. If John had taken out his aggravation on Robinson and his incompetent crew, that would be justice. But he had no doubt that Elena had spent the night suffering in her own way. She was not a woman who handled helplessness well. She saw a problem and she solved it.

But if Helene had been helping Robinson for whatever reason, that would have seriously curtailed Elena’s ability to function. He was just glad that Elena had managed to outmaneuver Robinson. He might have been an idiot, but getting Helene on his side must have made him significantly harder to counter. Jackson got off the 93, so the ride was about over.

John turned in his seat again. “I know you don’t want to hear this.”

“Then don’t say it,” Elena said wearily.

“Thank you.”

She put her phone down on the seat next to her. “You are the most annoying man in existence,” she said with a deliberateness that communicated just how seriously she meant it. “Did they get the wallet with your real ID?”

John had learned to avoid carrying his real identification two days after his interview at Briarwood. Kevin had regaled him with tales of prostitutes harassed by clients and driven out of their lives by vindictive assholes. “No,” he said firmly. “It should still be in my car.” John had welded a secret compartment to the door and hidden it under the plastic panel.

“Jackson took your car to the hotel and had them park it in valet. He has your spare keys,” she said. Even exhausted, she did keep track of the details. “Oh, if you check out of that room, I will fire you and then send Jackson to kick your ass,” she threatened.

John hadn’t been considering it, but he asked, “Can I move to a smaller room in the same hotel?”

“No,” she snapped. “I’m assuaging my guilt, so accept the gift and shut up.”

John nodded. “Got it.” 

Given the evil looks Jackson kept shooting him, the man would be more than happy to kick John’s ass, so maybe it was time to stop aggravating the boss. In the years since accepting employment at Briarwood, John had vaccilated wildly between appreciating Elena and hating her. She had saved his ass. Her paychecks had kept him off welfare or, more likely, out of jail. On the other hand, she demanded more than he wanted to give sometimes.

However, right now he would do anything for her. Sure, bringing in Clive was unforgivable, but after she’d saved his ass, she was in a mood to forgive. Now he just needed several hours of sleep before he had to face Logan and sort out the rest of this mess.

Chapter 23: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20094108 

Chapter 24: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20174290 

Chapter 25: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20210420 

Chapter 26: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20310403 

Chapter 27: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20707456 

Chapter 28: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20726684 

Chapter 29: https://www.patreon.com/posts/saddled-chapter-20848455