Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
"I'll call you later," I said to Mike. I ignored his protest and hung up the phone. The driver of the car came around to the passenger side and opened the back door. He motioned to me. Personal protection 101 said don't get into any strange cars, but when you've spent the evening throwing the company of one of the richest men in the world into a tailspin security wise, that particular lesson was pretty much not applicable.
I moved to the car and climbed into the back, determined to face my fate. The back seat was empty, but the seat facing it, the one just behind the driver, wasn't. The interior lights of the vehicle were dim, but there was no mistaking who was sitting in the spot.
"You know who I am?" Clifton Hayes asked as I settled onto the seat across from him. The driver closed the door, plunging the car back into darkness. But seconds later, the light was back on. It allowed me to take in Hayes's features. Despite the late hour, he was wearing a tuxedo complete with a hat. Since I doubted the man wore a tuxedo every day, I could only assume he’d come from some kind of event. The theater probably, since it was one of the few luxuries he was known to indulge in.
I nodded my head but said nothing.
"You caused quite the uproar today, Mr. Falkov," Hayes said as he tapped his cane on the roof of the car. There was a pause and then the vehicle began moving. I noticed that the SUVs in front and behind us began to move as well.
"If your employees were subject to this same level of competent security, I wouldn't have had to," I said as I motioned with my chin in the direction of the SUVs shadowing the Rolls. The words were out of my mouth before I could even consider them. But like with my actions that afternoon, I couldn't take them back and didn't want to. I'd seen proof of too many mass shootings firsthand to play around with people's safety.
If Hayes was annoyed by my comment, he didn't show it.
"I believe my employees are more than comfortable with the security teams watching over them."
"With all due respect, sir, the majority of those employees would agree with you if you told them the sky was red and the ocean was yellow. Is your company the worst I've seen? No," I said. "But you're not just any company, are you? Because you aren't just any man. You have more enemies than you probably even know about. I'm not saying that's your fault, it's just the nature of the beast. What is your fault is the fact that I was able to walk into your building today armed with a semi-automatic handgun and a purpose and not one person tried to stop me. But maybe that's just the cost of doing business, right? Maybe it's cheaper to sacrifice a handful of people here and there to some random gunman than to invest in the resources necessary to protect everyone from your enemies."
This time, there was a visible reaction. Hayes's mouth tightened just a bit and the fingers of his right hand flexed over the handle of his cane. A moment later, he lifted the cane and banged it against the roof of the car. The vehicle immediately pulled over again and rolled to a stop.
"I think we're done here," he responded.
I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to beg and apologize. He wanted me to ask for a second chance. Part of me wished I could do it, especially for Mike’s sake. But then I remembered how Jude Archer had looked in that moment when I'd pointed my gun at his chest. He’d looked like every other victim I'd seen who'd known they were about to die. His eyes hadn't been lifeless or cold. They'd been full of emotion and life.
Worst of all, they’d been full of regret.
That was what kept me from saying the words Hayes clearly wanted to hear. I just couldn't do it, not even for Mike. I’d find another way to save Mike's company. I wouldn't be the reason he and Amelia lost everything, but I also wouldn't be the reason that the beautiful but foolish Jude Archer ended up six feet under.
Hayes tapped the cane one more time and the passenger door was quickly jerked open. My dismissal was loud and clear. I made a move to get out of the car, then stopped. I couldn't say what was holding me there. Or maybe I could, but I didn't want to admit it.
"He may have had a wake-up call today, but it won't be enough," I murmured. I'd seen it in Jude's eyes when he’d realized the whole thing had been a setup. His fury had been the presiding emotion and that would translate into defiance. I was as sure of that as I was of anything. "If you care about him, you'll make sure he remembers those few seconds where he knew he was going to die."