Collateral Damage_A Tethered Novel Read online

  “See you in the morning.”

  “Yeah.” Timothy climbed out of the car and headed towards the elevator.

  “There you are handsome,” A woman’s voice filled his ears just as Timothy felt hands creep up his arm. He turned to see Giselle standing somewhat behind him. “You know, it’s not nice to make a girl wait.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a meeting.”

  “Baby, we always have a meeting,” she purred.

  He studied her. She wore heels that made her nearly as tall as he was, and a long red coat he imagined hid some type of lingerie underneath. Her blonde hair was up off her neck, and her painted red lips were turned up in a grin that he knew meant she was expecting him to take her up to his penthouse.

  He was a man that didn’t get attached, but physical release from sex helped the years pass quicker than they did for the near century he had been abstinent. And after being near Paislee all day, he could use a release.

  “Come on up.”

  “I knew you couldn’t resist,” she purred again and followed him onto the elevator.

  She used him just as much as he used her, hell she ran one of the most prestigious law firms downtown. It’s how they’d met. He’d been arranging a contract for a month-long acquisition, and she’d been more than ready to satisfy his needs, both in the office and out. So, they’d continued these ‘meetings’ for the better part of a year.

  They stepped off, and Timothy set his briefcase and coat down on the entry table before heading for his bar. He poured himself some whiskey and turned to face Giselle who had made work of the coat and now stood in front of him wearing nothing but a white lace bra and matching underwear.

  It should have turned him on, hell it usually did. But now he couldn’t get the damn red head out of his mind.

  “Come here,” he said gruffly, and she crossed the floor smoothly. She pressed her lips to his neck as she worked on his shirt, but he wasn’t in the moment.

  He closed his eyes and pictured what Giselle was doing, but as her hand crept down towards his pants, he reached down to stop her.

  “I can’t do this now.”

  “Excuse me?” Giselle stepped back.

  “I can’t do this tonight.”

  “What’s wrong with you?” She eyed his groin, “What, can’t get it up? They make medication for that.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, and Timothy eyed her threateningly.

  “You need to leave.”

  “We have a deal, you get to call me when you want to fuck, and I come here when I want to. You break this deal now, and I’ll find someone else.”

  “Then find someone else, Giselle.” Timothy yawned even though nothing about him was relaxed. “I told you I’m not interested.”

  She stood staring at him as he drank his whiskey. “You will not toss me to the side!” She charged at him, and he put his hand up to stop her.

  “You’re going to want to keep your hands to yourself, Giselle,” he warned. “I’ve asked you to leave, if you choose to put your hands on me I will force you out of my apartment.”

  She sneered. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Trust me, I would.”

  She stared at him and then grabbed her coat.

  “You’ll regret this Timothy McGinley. I am not someone to trifle with.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  She stormed towards the elevator and pressed the button, before turning around and lifting an antique vase from his entry table.

  He stared at her, and she grinned menacingly. “Oops.” She tossed the vase to the ground. “You will come crawling back to me Timothy, you’re mine.”

  Timothy watched angrily as the door shut in front of her angry face. That vase had been priceless and over a hundred years old, and she had tossed it to the ground like trash. He left the mess until she had time to get to a car because he had half a mind to go down and drag her ass back up to clean it herself.

  It wasn’t that Giselle wasn’t attractive, sure she was insane, but he’d known that before getting into bed with her. It was part of the reason she’d been an active participant between his sheets for as long as she had. Her craziness kept things interesting.

  But that damn redhead at his office kept creeping into his thoughts. Hell, Paislee should have been the last one in his mind. He’d felt guilt the first time he’d sought intimacy in the arms of another woman after Cait. It had taken him three tries before he’d been able to actually go through with it. His broken heart hadn’t healed by any means, but it became easier each time.

  Over the years, he’d been with countless, willing women who hadn’t wanted anything serious. It made it easier when he’d had to step away which he did about every six months. After that, the situation became more difficult, and he needed to protect his secret.

  So why the hell did he feel guilty about being with Giselle because of Paislee?

  He’d only just met her! Had she bewitched him somehow? Was he at the receiving end of yet another spell? Even as the thought crossed his mind, he shoved it away. She didn’t possess enough knowledge of her craft to spell him. That or she was a fantastic actress.

  Still, he was angry. He threw his glass towards the wall as the image of her popped back into his mind. It shattered, and whiskey dripped down the pale grey wall.

  Damn, now he had to pour another drink.

  * * *

  Since Paislee was curious by nature, she refused to call herself nosy, she stood again and headed for his desk. There was nothing but a cup holding some fancy looking pens that probably cost more than her apartment sitting on top. Not a single piece of paper or shred of evidence as to whether or not this man was working with Malcolm. She very much doubted it since he was bleeding on the ground when she’d found him, but what if Malcolm had done it to draw her out?

  She closed her eyes and tried to block out the images as they came rushing back to her. So much blood, she could still remember the way it smelled. The copper tang filling the air around her as she fought to control her magic and not show her hand.

  Malcolm had been smarter though, he had known she wouldn’t be able to allow an innocent to die, even if it had just been a stray dog. She had saved it, and in agreement to do as he asked, he had let the animal be.

  A tear slipped down her cheek, and she took a deep breath. He wouldn’t get her again, but she needed to make sure Timothy was in no way involved with him. Even if he didn’t realize he was. She slipped one of his expensive pens in her pocket and hoped she could find a better weapon to trade it out with as she continued her search.

  All of the desk drawers were locked, so she went back to where her backpack sat on the table and pulled out her lock pick set. She had taught herself to use it after she escaped, and kept it stashed in a bag with hygiene products she carried with her everywhere in case she was taken again.

  After kneeling in front of his desk, she began her work to pick the lock on the center drawer. She was so focused she nearly missed the ding of the elevator and had to abandon her kit under the desk as she sprinted to the couch.

  She sat up straighter when a man who was not Timothy McGinley stepped in.

  “Hi again, Miss Adams,” Ashton said easily as he walked in. “I was informed you might be hungry for some pizza?”

  “Yes!” She dashed towards him and he handed her the box with a smile on his face.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  She shook her head. “Are you working here all night?”

  He nodded. “I’ll be right down in my office if you need anything.”

  “Do you play cards?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What kind of cards?”

  “Any kind.” She walked to her backpack and pulled out a pack of cards. “I used to play solitaire a lot. It would be nice to play with someone other than myself.”

  “I’d love to play if you feel like sharing that pizza.”

  “Oh, definitely.” She pushed the large pizza to the center of the coffee ta
ble, and they took a seat. “Have a preference?”

  “How about war.”

  She smiled. “That’s a good one. My brother and I used to play when I was a kid.” She started dealing the cards and then took another bite of pizza as the game began.

  “Have you worked for him long?” Ashton raised an eyebrow, and Paislee offered a kind smile. “I am only asking because I want to know that the man I saved is a good one.”

  “If he wasn’t would you have let him die?”

  “Yes,” she responded without hesitation.

  “Then you should know that the man you saved is a good one. I have worked for Mr. McGinley for nearly fifteen years, he is someone worth saving.”

  “How did you know about magic? You didn’t freak when Timothy was talking about it in the car earlier.”

  He was silent a moment. “I came across it a few years back.”

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Maybe I will one day.”

  “So, what did you do before you started working for Timothy?”

  “Believe it or not I was an FBI agent.”

  “I could totally see that.”

  Ashton laughed. “I loved it for a while, but eventually I decided I wanted to go my own route. That’s when I opened The Bright Security Firm.”

  “What made you want to leave?”

  “Timothy wasn’t kidding, you like the questions.” He smiled.

  “I’m inquisitive by nature.”

  “Some would call that nosy.”

  She laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

  They continued playing cards until two in the morning when Ashton excused himself to check security feeds. Paislee climbed into the big bed and stared at the dark ceiling. She absently stroked Garth’s soft fur and went through the events that led her to this moment.

  Had she not decided to go scope out McGinley Antiquities she never would have heard that gunshot. She never would have ended up in that alley covered in Timothy’s blood.

  Did she regret saving him? She honestly wasn’t sure. She wanted to believe he was a good man, that he was nothing like Malcolm, but it would take more than a few hours for her to make that decision.

  She knew one thing, she had to focus more than ever on learning her craft, so she could put an end to Malcolm Gentry and move on with her life. Maybe she would get married, settle down, and start a family. She always wanted to finish school, so maybe she could get her GED and then go to college.

  Paislee smiled and closed her eyes as she dreamt of a tomorrow when she wouldn’t have to hide from the shadows that plagued her.

  Chapter 6

  “You promised me you’d bring her to me.” Malcolm Gentry paced the space in his office just behind his guest’s chair. He’d rather sit, sure, but the pacing made this particular man so nervous that Malcolm could practically feel the fear snapping in the air around them.

  “I tried, she’s completely off the grid.”

  “And what about Mitchell.”

  “Him too.”

  “The antiquities dealer?”

  “Still alive.”

  “Hmm.” Malcolm continued pacing and then took his seat behind his desk to think. If the man was still alive, it meant one of two things. Either Mitchell had been taken out of play before he’d gotten to him, or McGinley had done something to his best assassin. “Malcolm,” he answered his cell. As the voice on the other line filled him in on which of those two things most likely happened, he looked pointedly at the now visibly pale failure sitting on the other side of his desk. “Thank you, Allison, you never disappoint.” He hung up the phone and smiled. “That was Allison Carver. Seems she found Mitchell.”

  “She did?”

  “Yes, in a Morgue. It appears he died under some mysterious circumstances.”

  “Wh-what does that me-mean?”

  “Well, the coroner believes he was electrocuted and then shot. But the strange thing is that the exterior of his body shows no sign of electrocution. Only a bullet hole in his chest.”

  The man stayed silent, and Malcolm drank in the fear. It was nearly enough to get him off, enough he needed to find someone to care for his growing arousal. Power made him harder than any naked whore could.

  “This means either McGinley has magical powers, which I very much doubt or my Paislee is now in his company.”

  “I’ll get her.”

  Malcolm shook his head. “Not yet. I want a read from him myself. Set up a lunch.”

  The man scrambled to his feet “Yes, Sir.”

  “And send Lindsay up here.”

  “Yes, Sir.” He left, and Malcolm began taking his suit off. He had married Lindsay last year in a private ceremony. She craved power as much as he did, and together they were going to take over the world.

  She walked in with a smile on her face. “What can I do for you dear?” She shut the door and clicked the lock. She knew what he wanted without him having to ask. She’d been a whore when he’d found her, but he was going to make her a queen.

  Chapter 7

  “Here.” Timothy tossed a stack of books on the couch next to Paislee and set his briefcase down on his desk.

  He bent down and picked up a small pouch from the floor. “Yours?” He opened it and raised an eyebrow at the professional lock pick set inside. After zipping it back up, he tossed the pouch to her on the couch, and she set it down next to her without breaking his eye contact.

  “Maybe.”

  “Next time just ask me to leave the drawers unlocked.” He took his jacket off to reveal a perfectly pressed shirt below.

  Her mouth shouldn’t have watered, but it did.

  “Have a good night?” She forced herself to look away and lifted one of the texts he had brought her.

  “Fine, and you?”

  “Definitely. Ashton brought me some amazing pizza, and I spent the next four hours bored out of my mind. You could at least get a TV or something up here for me.”

  “You should be studying magic, not binge-watching reality TV.”

  His words chilled her. Not the binge-watching, but the studying magic. She set the book aside and stood. “Why would I need to study my magic?” she asked. “What purpose would that serve you?”

  Timothy moved towards her. “I would prefer to not be inadvertently spelled or killed because you cannot control yourself. I assure you, I detest magic in all its forms, and once I figure out exactly what it is Malcolm wants from me, I will be sending you packing without a second thought.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t. All you have is my word.”

  Paislee focused on the eyes that were staring intently at her. The magic in her blood began to hum as if it were calling to him. Strange, she thought to herself.

  She relaxed. “Fine. But if you don’t let me go, I will use whatever magic necessary to escape.”

  “As long as you keep it to yourself until then, we have a deal.” Timothy sat behind his desk. “So, would you like to tell me why you wanted me to know you tried to break into my desk?”

  “I didn’t try. I went through them early this morning.”

  “So, you left your tools there why exactly?”

  “I wanted you to know I went through them.” Her tone of voice told him he should have known that.

  “Well then.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest. “Find anything interesting?”

  She glared at him over the book. “Hardly. You’re a pretty boring guy.”

  “And what exactly was it you were hoing’ to find? A handwritten, signed note confessing that I am secretly in Malcolm’s employment?”

  “Are you?”

  “Hardly,” he repeated her words back to her, and the ghost of a smile played on his lips.

  “I’m glad this is a joke to you. But this is my life and my freedom we’re talking about.”

  His smiled faded. “How did Malcolm learn about you?”

  She set the book aside. “I don�
�t see how that’s any of your business.”

  “I do seeing as how I’m protecting you from him.”

  “I didn’t ask for your protection, Mr. McGinley.”

  “Well you’ve got it, so how about you inform me as to what the nature of your relationship is with Mr. Gentry?”

  She crossed her arms, and the fire in her eyes aroused him, why? He had no damn clue, she was acting like a bratty teenager, and he had no time for it. Not when someone was trying to kill him.

  “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” she repeated, this time growling through her teeth.

  “I disagree since the second you landed on my doorstep I ended up with a bullet in my chest.”

  “If you remember correctly, the bullet was already there when I found you.”

  “Answer my question Paislee. The sooner you do, the sooner I can determine what is going on and put an end to it. Then you will be free to go. Were you sleeping with him? An affair gone wrong?”

  She cursed, and Timothy saw sparks on her fingertips. She had no clue how powerful she was, and if she didn’t gain control over it, that power was going to build and take the whole damn building down with it.

  “Abso-fucking-lutely not,” she growled.

  The buzzer went off on his desk, and without looking away from her, he answered it, “Yes.”

  “Mr. McGinley, you have a phone call.”

  “Send it through.” He lifted the receiver. “Timothy McGinley.”

  “Mr. McGinley, this is Malcolm Gentry. You’re a tough man to get ahold of.”

  Timothy stood, holding the receiver to his ear. He steadied his voice, not wanting to betray any emotion.

  “I wasn’t aware you were trying to get ahold of me, Mr. Gentry.” As he said the name, he looked to Paislee who had gone completely rigid on the couch. Her face paled, and her eyes widened. Her reaction to just the name had his hatred for the man on the other end of the line growing. Just what had he done to the young witch?

  “I’ve been wanting to meet you. I understand you run an incredibly well-reputed antiquities company.”

  “Are you looking for something in particular?”