CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY
Thomas smirked. "Understood. When are you leaving, then?"

"Tomorrow. I need to make sure James will be safe and okay first." The sound of an engine starting came through the phone. "I'm pulling out of the parking lot now."

"Okay. I'll drop by the house later today to see you both off," Thomas said.

"That would be nice. See you then."

The call ended.

Thomas set the phone down, his smile fading into something more contemplative. Alexandra was wounded, dangerous, and determined. Richard Hartley had no idea what was coming for him.

And Thomas intended to make sure Richard's downfall was absolute.

༺༺♡♡༻༻

Alicia sat on Chris's couch, pouting dramatically and shooting glances at him every few seconds. He seemed completely invested in the video game he was playing, his fingers moving rapidly over the controller, his eyes never leaving the screen.

She felt like he was mad at her. Like he was avoiding her.

He'd finally replied to her text last night after she'd sent him about fifteen messages, telling her to come over since she'd insisted on seeing him. But since she'd arrived, he'd barely said anything. He'd made them something to eat—sandwiches and chips—then immediately dove into playing video games.

She scoffed loudly. "Seriously? Why aren't you saying anything to me, Chris?" Her voice rose with frustration. "You've just been stuck and glued to that game without even so much as looking at me."

Chris paused mid-game. He set the controller down on the coffee table with deliberate care and turned to face her. He exhaled slowly.

"What you did was wrong, Alicia."

She blinked, taken aback by his bluntness.

"I know you were trying to fight for your friend," he continued, his voice measured. "But not that way. And it's not like you know the whole truth behind everything that happened."

"What's there to know?" Alicia shot back, anger flaring in her chest. "That douchebag did my friend dirty five years ago, Chris. And you're telling me I was wrong for acting out? For defending her?"

"That douchebag—" Chris's voice remained calm but firm, "—is my boss, Alicia."

Her eyes went wide with realization. Her mouth opened, then closed. "What?"

"Yes. Damon Hartley is my boss." Chris watched her process this information. "And I know the history between him and Alexandra. I'm not sure how you got involved or how you became friends with her, but you should understand that things aren't always as they seem. That's what I'm trying to tell you."

Tears filled Alicia's eyes. "I'm really sorry. I had no idea he was your boss." Her voice cracked slightly. "I was just so mad at him for everything he's done to Alex. And that scum of a woman, Victoria—but I never knew. I never would have—"

Chris rolled his eyes at her dramatic display, though his expression softened. "Of course I know you weren't aware. I actually found out you're friends with Alexandra from Damon himself. He told me he saw you at a store with her."

He paused. "So I'm not blaming you for defending your friend. I'm just saying—don't act so rashly next time. You have a reputation to protect, especially with your father's position."

Alicia sighed heavily. "I don't care about my father. Not when he's always ashamed of me anyway. And I didn't do anything wrong—"

Chris's sharp gaze cut her off mid-sentence.

"Fine!" Alicia threw her hands up in surrender. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll apologize to Damon." She paused. "But not Victoria. Never Victoria."

Chris smiled despite himself, reaching out to pinch her cheeks gently. "That's my girl."

Alicia smiled back at him, her heart doing a little flip at his words. Then, without thinking, she blurted out, "Can I kiss you?"

Chris's eyes went wide with surprise. But the look was immediately replaced with something intense, hungry. He reached out, cupping her face with both hands, and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss started slow, tentative, like they were both testing boundaries. But it quickly deepened, becoming something more urgent. Alicia's hands found his shoulders, gripping tight as Chris pulled her closer. She shifted, climbing into his lap, straddling him as his hands moved to her waist to keep her balanced.

The kiss turned heated, desperate. Chris's fingers tangled in her hair while her hands explored the planes of his chest through his shirt. She could feel his heart racing beneath her palm, matching the frantic rhythm of her own.

His mouth moved from her lips to her jaw, trailing kisses down to her neck. Alicia gasped, her head falling back to give him better access. One of his hands slid under her shirt, his touch burning against her skin.

"Chris," she breathed, and he groaned in response, pulling her impossibly closer.

The shrill ringing of his phone cut through the haze.

Chris froze, his lips still against her neck. "I need to pick that," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough.

Alicia pouted, her breathing ragged. "Now?"

"It might be important." He pressed one more quick kiss to her lips before gently lifting her off his lap.

She moved reluctantly, watching as he grabbed his phone from the table. His face shifted to something more neutral, professional.

"Hey, boss." Chris listened for a moment. "Yeah, I can do that. When?" Another pause. "That's fine. I'll be there. See you soon."

He hung up and turned back to Alicia, who was trying to calm her racing heart.

"Everything okay?" she asked, trying to sound casual even though her lips were still swollen from his kisses.

"Yeah, just Damon wanting to meet up." Chris ran a hand through his hair. Then something seemed to occur to him. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Damon mentioned that Alexandra has a son." He watched her face carefully. "Do you have any idea if she remarried after everything? Or who the boy's father is?"

Alicia's expression gave nothing away. She just waited for him to continue.

"Well?" Chris prompted. "Do you know anything about James's father?"

"No, I don't." Alicia's smile turned slightly smug. "And even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. You and Damon should ask Alexandra yourselves. She's my girl, and I'm a girl's girl. We don't share each other's secrets."

Chris rolled his eyes, recognizing that he wasn't going to get anything from her. He pushed himself off the couch. "You're so insufferable," he called over his shoulder as he headed toward his bedroom to get dressed.

Alicia laughed, watching his figure disappear behind the door. Her mind drifted back to their kiss, to the way his hands had felt on her skin, to the heat in his eyes.

Did he like her the way she liked him?

She didn't want to get her hopes up, but God, she hoped he did.

༺༺♡♡༻༻

Margaret had just stepped out of the crowded school premises with a bubbling James, who wouldn't stop talking about everything he'd done at school. His little voice was animated, excited, as he described his day in vivid detail.

"And then, Grandma Maggy, we did painting! And I made a picture of you and Mama and me! The teacher said it was really good!"

"I'm sure it was beautiful, sweetheart," Margaret said warmly, holding his hand tight as they navigated through the crowd of parents and children.

School had just let out. Tisha had driven Margaret here on Alexandra's instructions. Alexandra had said she didn't want Tisha driving her around anymore—instead, she wanted Tisha focused on protecting James and Margaret. Tisha was currently waiting beside their parked car outside the school gates.

They hadn't walked far from the main building when Margaret felt the hairs on her body stand on end. That primal awareness of being watched, being followed.

She paused mid-step and turned back to look.

Nothing. Just little children running around, being scooped up by their parents. Normal afternoon chaos.

She shrugged off the feeling and resumed walking, tightening her grip on James's hand.

Two more steps.

A sharp pain pierced her neck. A syringe.

Margaret's eyes went wide. A hand pressed over her mouth, cutting off her scream. Another set of hands—rough, unfamiliar—grabbed James, yanking him away from her.

"Grandma Maggie!" James's scream was high-pitched, terrified. "Grandma!"

Margaret tried to fight, tried to hold onto James, but whatever they'd injected her with was already working. Her limbs felt heavy, uncoordinated. Her vision started to blur.

Gunshots rang out. Sharp, loud cracks that made people scream and scatter.

Was that Tisha? Had Tisha noticed?

Margaret's legs gave out. She hit the ground hard, her cheek pressing against the concrete. The last thing she heard was James crying for her, his voice getting farther away.

Please, she prayed silently as darkness swallowed her. Please let Tisha have seen and noticed something was wrong. Please let nothing happen to James.

Then consciousness slipped away completely.