Chapter 26 The Man at the gate
POV Catherine
“For God’s sake, I’m working!”
“You wouldn’t answer my fucking texts,” he growls over the phone. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Oh, I don’t know—wait, maybe? At least until I came back home!” I glance nervously at Eric’s door. If he comes out here and catches me on another personal call, I’m dead. He’ll tear me apart just for the thrill of it.
I wince. Every time I sit down, I’m reminded of what Eric’s hand did to me last night. All day I’ve been bouncing between sore and aching for more.
That’s the hazard of sleeping with the boss.
My father’s voice yanks me back. “I don’t know how long that’ll take and I need money now!”
I bite my tongue so I don’t scream at him. “You already have courtside Knicks tickets and a fridge full of beer. What could you possibly need money for now?”
“I have fucking needs, Catherine.”
I don’t know what that means and I don’t want to. “I’m hanging up now.”
“If you hang up, I’ll just keep calling.”
“Then I’ll just keep hanging up.”
“Don’t make me come down there.”
My stomach turns. “You wouldn’t!”
“Just watch me. I will—”
“Okay,” I hiss. “You blackmailing bastard. How much?”
“Two hundred bucks.”
It’s reflex. “I don’t have that.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious—”
“Okay, see you at the office in, like, half an hour?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Just transfer it straight to my account.”
The truth is, I can’t let my father show up here and cause a scene. So I cave. It’s probably the worst thing I could do, but I don’t see another way out.
I open my work laptop and pull up my bank. “I’m sending it now. But this is the last of my cash for the month.”
“Sure, sure.” His voice goes muffled like he’s covering the phone. A door slams somewhere behind him. Then he’s back. “You doing it? It hasn’t come through—shit, where was I? Right, the money. Done yet?”
I hit transfer and a big spinning circle takes over the screen. Don’t close the page.
“What was that noise?”
“Huh?”
“What was that noise in your house?” My teeth are clenched.
“Um… dunno. Liam probably dropped something. Kid’s fourteen, he’s clumsy. Anyway—”
“Bingo. Got it. Later, Cat.”
“Hold on! Is Liam okay? Put him on—”
Dead. The line’s dead and I’m staring at Liam’s picture on my lock screen, trying not to panic.
Don’t panic. Stay calm. Get more information.
I call Liam direct. He picks up on the third ring. “Aunt Cat?”
His voice is too tight. Too old for fourteen. “Hey, bud. I was just on with my father. He mentioned a noise. Everything okay?”
Liam hesitates. “Yeah…”
My heart sinks. “Liam. Are you sure?”
“There’s this guy,” he says finally. “He was watching from outside school yesterday. Followed me home today. Said something to me at the gate after school. I don’t like him.”
I’m close to full panic now. “What did he look like?”
“Um, normal? Skinny. Blonde. He just didn’t look nice.”
I want to throw up. That’s Damian Cross.
“Next time you see him,” I keep my voice as calm as I can, “I want you to call me immediately, okay?” He’s quiet. “Liam? Did you hear me?”
“He’s out on the street, Aunt Cat. He’s been watching the apartment since I got home.”
Panic.
Panic.
I’m on my feet. “I’ll be home soon, honey, okay? Lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me. Can you do that?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
I hang up, grab my purse, and bolt for the elevators.
“Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Hale?”
The ice in his voice stops me cold.
Of course he picks now to step out of his office. I swear he has a camera pointed at my desk.
“I’m leaving.” Panic strips the diplomacy right out of me. “Family emergency. Liam needs me.”
I expect a grunt and a threat about firing me mid-workday. Instead his brows pull together. “What’s the emergency?”
“It’s nothing. Just this reporter. Damian Cross. He’s been—look, it doesn’t matter. I need to handle it and I’ll be right back.”
The second I say the name, something flickers in Eric’s eyes. “Damian Cross. Of The Brooklyn Gazette?”
I edge toward the elevators. Something in Eric’s face scares me. “Yeah. He came to me a few days ago. Asked if I’d spy on you for him. I told him no, obviously.”
Eric’s eyes narrow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I shut him down and told him to take a hike. I thought that was it. But now he’s stalking my brother. He’s outside the house right now. Liam’s freaked out. I have to—”
“I’ll drive you.”
I stare at him. “What?”
He’s already moving to the elevators. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”
I keep stealing glances at him on the way down. Letting me leave is one thing. Coming with me? Why would he do that?
“You have meetings all evening,” I remind him when the doors open.
He’s already on his phone, tapping. “Cael will cover for me.”
I’m too worried about Liam to notice the Aston Martin waiting at the curb. On the drive I pick at my cuticles until they’re raw.
Eric cuts his eyes to me. “I know Cross. He’s a fucking leech. But I can handle him.”
I nod, but I won’t breathe right until that creep is nowhere near Liam. Still, something registers in the back of my head.
Was that… comfort? From Eric Wood? I check the window for flying pigs.
There are a few cars across the street when we pull up. I scan them but can’t tell which one is his. Doesn’t matter. Liam first.
I’m halfway up the second flight when I realize Eric’s right behind me.
First thought: he’s going to see the apartment.
Second: he’s going to meet Liam.
Third: oh, fuck.
I shove it all down and knock. The deadbolt clicks. Liam cracks the door, chain still on. He sees me, slams it shut, unlatches the chain.
The door swings open. “ Cat!” He moves toward me, then freezes when he sees Eric. At fourteen he’s all elbows and angles, almost to my shoulder. His eyes flick from me to Eric and back, wary.
I pull him in anyway. “You okay?”
He nods against me, stiff. “He’s still out there. Black sedan.”
Rage hits fast. Liam would never say he’s scared, but checking the car tells me everything.
“You did good,” I tell him, running my fingers through his hair like I did when he was eight and our mother had just died. “Calling me was right. Now I want you in your room, okay? I’m going down to talk to him.”
“But—”
“Five minutes. Can you do that for me?”
Liam lets go. I turn for the door and hit a wall of a man. “Excuse me.”
Eric doesn’t move. His eyes are on Liam. I look back and see Liam’s jaw set, eyes narrowed. Sizing Eric up. Fourteen and already trying to be the man of the house.
“Cat, you haven’t introduced us. This must be Liam.” He holds out his hand.
Liam doesn’t take it. “I don’t know you.”
My brows go up at the anger in his voice. “Liam—”
“It’s okay,” Eric says to me, then looks back at Liam. “I’m Eric. Your sister’s boss.”
“Why are you here?”
“Liam!” I can’t really be mad. He’s trying to protect me the only way he knows.
Eric just smiles.
God, that Wood smile. It’s worse up close. Doesn’t work on Liam though. He definitely doesn’t smile back.
“I’m here to help,” Eric says.
Liam’s frown eases a fraction. “How?”
“I’m going to talk to that man. Make sure he never bothers you again.”
“And my sister?”
Eric nods. “And your sister, too.”
Liam gives him a tiny, reluctant nod. He watches Eric walk to the door without blinking.
I get it. There’s something about Eric. He fills a room without trying. He radiates “take charge” in a way Liam’s never seen from the men around him. Our father just radiates “sad and useless.”
“You’ll keep the door locked?” Eric’s asking Liam, not me. Dead serious. No smile now.
Liam’s jaw tightens and he nods.
“Good.” Eric walks out like it’s settled.
I follow him into the hall and lock up behind me. He’s halfway down the stairs before I turn the key. “Wait!” I call. “I—”
He stops on the landing and looks up at me. “You stay. I’ll handle this. I’m the one he wants.”
The gentleness in his voice throws me. I’m used to angry, annoyed, frustrated, or blank.
But this? He sounds almost… compassionate.
“Yeah, but it’s my brother he stalked. Like some creepy fucking predator. He scared the hell out of him. So I’m going down there and—”
“Catherine.” His voice is softer, but no less commanding. “That kid is scared. He needs you right now more than you need to kill Cross.”
That lands.
Dammit. He’s right.
I sigh and wave him on. I wait until his footsteps fade before I go back inside.
Liam’s waiting by the door. I ruffle his hair as we head for the living room. He cuts his eyes at me. “Your boss is… intense,” he mutters.
I force a smile. To a fourteen-year-old with no real male role model, of course Eric’s intense. To a twenty-six-year-old with a dependent brother, he’s dangerous.
Not for the first time, I wonder about every choice I’ve made lately.
Am I making a mistake?
Am I putting Liam in danger?
Is it too late to go back?
I’m afraid the answer to all of it is yes.