Hurry Addy! Save Livy!
[Addison]Finally unclenching my fist, I fiddle with the lock of the handcuff, using the key that I had fought so hard to claim from my willful, naughty son. Livy's in trouble. I can hear her screaming. His attack, which must have felt like it came out of nowhere, probably put her into one of her rages. Her autism makes it hard for her to transition from one task to the next, and any interruption can lead to at least a snappy reply or a grump or two.And that's with a warning. I doubt Jayson said, "Hey Livy, I'm going to hit you with a bat!" Not only that, but Livy was also reading about one of her favorite things. I can't even imagine the level of anger and upset she must be feeling right now, the emotional pain in addition to the physical pain of being battered by a larger kid. Somebody taught Jayson how to fight. Not just kid playground stuff, but real dirty adult fighting. Even with Livy's strength and intensity during one of her attacks, she doesn't stand a chance against my ve
[Addison]Livy walks around me, holding out her hand to the strange man greeting him like an old friend. The man bends down and greets her, apologizing for his tardiness.“Sorry, Young Miss,” the man bows over her little hand. “Mr. Grant sent us to assist just in case you needed help, but it looks like we were a little too late.” He frowns, looking at my son, who is still lying flat on the road. He is moaning and making a fuss, so I can tell he’s not too badly injured, despite the blood which seems to be everywhere. “Who are you?” I demand as I remain kneeled next to Jayson. “And how did you know we’d need help?” “My name is Mr. Carpenter, and I am the Head of Security at Grant Group,” he helps me stand, his warm calloused hand keeping me steady. “As for why we are here, Mr. Grant has all of his employees and members of his household tracked for emergencies such as this one.” He nods towards Livy. “He’d never put his most precious people at risk.” I take another look at my son and
[Addison] I’m too tired in both body and spirit to deal with all of this nonsense. Now that Michael and Evelyn have arrived back home, Evelyn is screaming, Michael is demanding to know the truth, and I…well I just want to go home. Because this house isn’t my home anymore. While the Grant estate isn’t my home either, it is at least a safe place to rest. I’m making my own home now, one piece at a time. Evelyn’s hands are on her hips, her eyes burning with self-righteous fury as if I had somehow wronged her. Before I had realized the truth about how little Michael cares about me, I might have wasted my time and energy trying to explain myself. But what’s the point of any of that? He’s going to believe what he wants. Besides, I’m done trying with him. I just want him to let go. “Do you want to get the police involved,” I sigh wearily looking back at the car where Livy is thankfully resting under the watchful eye of one of the guards. “Because then I’d have to be honest about everyt
[Addison]Hunter took us home. Seeing how shaken I was, he took the initiative, having the maids draw a bath while he made us all beef stroganoff and decanted a bottle of red wine. By the time I was clean and dry, Livy had already eaten, her messy plate sitting on the counter while Hunter stood in the kitchen washing dishes. “Don’t you have people to do that for you,” I made my best attempt at a joke, only for it to sound flat in the large empty room. “Taking care of others helps me settle my mind,” his deep voice rumbles as he looks up from the dishes and my gaze connects with his. His deep blue eyes, almost black in this light, crease with worry even as he makes his best effort to smile. “It’s been a very long day.”Pausing at his task, he rinses the soap from his hands and then sets about making me a plate of food. I offer to do that myself, but he shoos me from the kitchen, insisting I take a seat at the table. The lighting is dim, a glass of red wine resting next to a cup of
[Hunter]She’s so lovely in the gentle light of the living room as she enjoys the meal I made for her. I’ve never cooked for anyone other than Livy and Janie in the past. None of the women I’ve dated have ever been this intimate with me.They were never family. And even though Addison and I are not a couple, she’s closer to being family than I have felt in a very long time. I wonder if this is what it would feel like to have a partner, someone to share my life and my burdens with. If only I could share all of them with her, tell Addison about everything. I could use a sympathetic ear. But if Addison were to know the true nature of my work, of my mission, not just my job for the government, but my own private revenge, it could make all of my careful work fall and shatter around us. No, it’s better that it remains this way. I can’t let anyone get too close. It’ll only lead to more pain.Besides, who knows, she may still be a spy. This could all be a very carefully crafted act, a hon
[Addison]Michael doesn’t make idle threats. That’s all I could think of as the rest of the week blended into the weekend as I waited for the other shoe to drop and for all of his new promises to land in my lap like an unwanted present. I’ve known Michael for 7 years, and have been married to him for 5 of those, and in all that time I have seen him carry through on his threats without fail.Before it had been opponents across the courtroom. This time it’s me. Winning is his favorite thing to do—it always has been. Whether it's in school or in life, he isn’t satisfied until he is on top. “How did I never notice that,” I sigh as I put on my suit jacket. I’m going into Grant Group today, and I want to make sure I look up to standard. Giving myself one last look, I add a bit more foundation to hide the last of the bruising from the beating inflicted by my own son. I hadn’t realized how many times his little fists hit my face until I saw the evidence the next day. “Good Morning,” Hunt
[Addison] Have you ever noticed those moments in your life where making a choice could change the path of your future forever? That day when I dashed forward to save Olivia had been one of them. Trusting my son as he led me into that alley had been another. And now, as the smooth, cold bar of the door handle on the tall glass door leading into Grant Group warms under my hand, I know this is another one. As I step inside, my feet clatter on the long expanse of modern slate tile, dark and bold, making the metallic fixtures and white walls gleam even brighter. The words, “Grant Group,” glow on the wall above a receptionist's desk, where a security guard stands near a metal detector and an elevator entrance requiring a key card. The security is tight, but this doesn’t surprise me knowing Hunter Grant. What surprises me, I guess, is the reception that I receive. As soon as the receptionist hears my approach, the young man comes forward from behind his desk. Bowing he holds out a b
[Addison] The elderly man stood a bit straighter, scanning me with his critical eye in the way he does a law brief, meticulously and with the ability to see everything. As if he has been frozen in time these last 5 years, nothing about him has changed--not his tattered tweed suit or the way he looks down his nose at you, inspecting you like one might ponder a particularly nasty problem to be solved. When people think of the autistic savant, the person with no emotional tact but with a keen mind that can see what others cannot, they could be discussing Professor Magnus McCannon. My teacher, mentor, and the hardest professor I ever knew. I was considered smart. Very smart. It was the reason I was admitted into law school so young, after completing my undergrad studies. I entered Harvard Law with perfect grades and several letters of recommendation. But my mind is nothing compared to Professor McCannon’s. As a child he was deemed a super genius, his complex mind and his ability
[Hunter]In a suit and tie, my tattoos are invisible, allowing me to be the person the investors expect me to be while I run the day to day workings of a fortune 100 company. As far as the upstanding part of NYC business is aware, Hazardous and Hunter Grant are not the same person. I work hard to keep my two lives separate. Just like DeBrassy does with his identity, Mr. D., we both know who the other man is, but in the boardroom, we pretend not to be criminals, and in spaces like these, we are done pretending. Here, we get to be the beasts we truly are.In some ways, this criminal underworld is more real than reality. It's more visceral, sensual, and alive. Nothing is off limits. Everything is possible. For some, it can be paradise. For others, Hell. And as far as I'm concerned, it's the furthest place I ever want Addy or Livy to be. I never want them to know this side of me, to see the gutters I need to swim in to preserve their safe world.Because tonight I dance with the devil to
[Hunter]Addison shines like a gem tonight, an elegant professional speaking with other like-minded people passionate about the same type of work. She was born to this. She might not realize it yet, but this is where she was always meant to be. She's standing next to the professor, laughing at something another legal guru from one of the finest firms in NYC said, meeting his verbal jabs with equal skill. Seeing her like this makes my heart feel lighter. After everything she's been through to get to this point, she deserves to be the bright star of this evening. I wish I could spend it with her. But I need to take care of business--dark dealings with the type of sinister low-lifes I plan to keep her from ever encountering. I would never want this filth to tarnish her shine. Silently signaling my lieutenant, I pretend to take a work call and excuse myself, leaving Addison in Charley's careful care. "I might not be back," I apologize. "This is a big deal, we can...""We can check in la
[Michael]The grim armed woman takes a step forward, blocking me from Addison's view."It's time for you to go, Mr. Stone," she repeats. "Now." Standing my ground, I refuse to move. She won't shoot me, not in front of all these people, all these lawyers. She'd be thrown behind bars. "Grant Group has a restraining order placed against you, Mr. Stone, and if you do not leave the premises immediately, I am authorized to use force if necessary." The woman tilts her head, watching, waiting for an excuse to follow through on her promise. Hundreds of eyes are watching us, hearing everything as we spill our family secrets on the floor of this grand ballroom, our words flying to smash into one another.Addison is angrier than I've ever seen her, an avenging angel, glaring at me with eyes of burning steel. Next to her is a tall, dark-skinned woman who, unlike the rest of those gathered, wears a no-nonsense suit, her hand hovering over a gun.She means business. And her business, from her sta
[Addison]“Oh, it looks like I’m late,” my ex-husband laughs, his hands in his pockets as he surveys the scene. “And with so many of my friends here, too. Hi Steve,” Michael waves to a man standing by the bar. "How's Cheryl?" Swaggering into the room, my ex parts the crowd until he's standing only a few feet away. Looking above my head, he sees the sign saying "Happy Divorce Day," and he smirks, his eyes flashing with sarcastic mirth. "Really, Addy? Just come home already. This game is getting old." Reaching forward, Michael holds out his hand to take mine. Taking a step back, I glare as I look around the room. Hunter is gone, Carter is now missing, and Charley is doing her best to make it to my side without causing an even bigger scene. I'm alone. "Michael, this isn't a game," I try to keep my voice low, even though this has already drawn the attention of most of the people in the room. "And I have a restraining order. You shouldn't be here right now. Why are you here?"Michael
[Michael][Earlier that evening]I can't wait to get the heck out of this office. Jayson's at my mother's for the weekend. I couldn't bear to be around my son after receiving the note from my attorney telling me that not only was my evidence rejected, but that my wife, MY WIFE, has been granted her divorce appeal without making any of the concessions I requested.Not only that, but her nosy old law professor, Dr. McCannon, filed a restraining order against me on her behalf. I was shocked to learn that tough old lizard is still alive. He's got to be what, like 102?Evelyn is out tonight, something about needing to see Mr. D, so I'm here, trying to see if there isn't some way I can contest the divorce. I mean, it can't be over, can it? Not really. Addy wouldn't leave me. She promised she'd stay with me forever. Until death do us part. "Sir," my new secretary, Cindy, saunters in. Mr. D sent her over, said my last one was "offensive." She places a whiskey sour next to my mousepad, and I
[Addison]The sharply-dressed young man holding me in his arms has a swoonworthy smile warm enough to melt hearts. Pretty like a model, his features are an exotic blend of cultures with full, soft lips, high, sharp cheekbones, and wide, cola-colored eyes that sparkle with amusement as he glances at me through a curtain of straight auburn brown hair. “It’s a good thing I was here to catch you,” he grins slyly, although his voice is bright with concern. “Are you okay, Miss…?"“Ms. Archer,” I hold out my hand to shake. “Addison Archer,” I nod in the direction of the congratulations sign. “The new divorcee.” “Ah,” his grin brightens. "Perfect, you're just the person I was sent to look for." Helping me stand, he takes my hand and bows over it in a very formal gesture of respect. "On behalf of my law firm, I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Adam. Adam Wright. I work for CCRP Law Group, and we heard you have potential." He pulls a card from the inner pocket
[Addison]Mr. Carter introduced me to his fiancée, Kate, and we hit it off immediately. She’s classy, smart, and has a knack for noticing the small things that others miss and pointing them out to me with no small amount of hilarity. “So you see how she’s walking with a slight hesitation on her left leg,” my new friend points out a beautiful red head with hair with bright blue eyes, and a tight white gown. “Her date, Mr. Danvers, has a thing for dancers. Likes his girls…flexible,” she smirks. Realising her implications, I gasp. “But he’s at least 80!” “Well, love knows no age.” The edge of her lip twists upward as a demure eyebrow lifts just slightly. “Look again, see how broad the shoulders are on his suit? When he was a young man, he was a star polo player and rugby champion. It was 50 years ago, but I bet he still keeps fit.”Blushing, I struggle to NOT think about what she is suggesting as she leads me towards the entrance, where I am surprised to see another friendly face. “Tr
[Hunter]“HUNTER NO!!!!!!!”Addison is screaming, her voice gut-wrenching, as with eyes open but not conscious, she grabs my chest. Holding her close to my heart, I soothe her, saying her name and rubbing her back as I kiss her hair, rocking back and forth.“Addison! Addy! It’s okay.” She is so terrified, so lost and unaware of what is real and what isn’t. It is a trauma response, one I’ve seen in survivors before. Whatever happened to her as a child must have been worse than she has told me. Something so bad she can't even let herself remember it fully. I know that feeling. I have them too.“Please, Addy, come back to me," I beg, forcing my voice to stay strong even though a part of me wants to hide in a corner with her. "I've got you. You're safe." It takes several minutes for her eyes to focus and her face to show signs of recognition. “Hunter, you’re not dead?”“Shh,” I move one of her strands of hair behind her ear. Her elegant updo is a bit mussed now, making her look even more
[Addison]Standing at the top of the stairs, I feel like a princess waiting to enter the ballroom and meet her handsome prince. My hands are shaking as I grip the railing. What if he doesn’t like the dress?What if he does? Taking a deep breath, I make my slow descent, my silver pumps clicking delicately on the marble floors.The dress Charley helped pick out is a periwinkle blue made of a beautiful sequined fabric that casts rainbows as I move. The bodice is a fitted corset with a neckline so low, I have to be taped into it to stay in place, and it flairs out over my hips into a full circle skirt that reaches down to my knees. The whole dress is covered in hand-beading, giving it a nice weight and an expensive feel. Charley wouldn’t let me see the price tag. Not after how I reacted when I saw the additional cost of the jewelry. Instead of a traditional string of pearls or a sensible scarf, I’m wearing a body cage in the shape of a cape, dripping jewels from my neck in every direct