Page 91 of Behind These Four Walls
Or ... and now her mind raced with something else ... not racy thoughts of a naked Myles, the irritating hunk Corrigan, but terror-filled ones. Thoughts that there was one thread that still dangled menacingly.
She moved cautiously, the thick carpet muffling her steps as she hurried in the direction of Victor’s study. Her heart lurched as she noticed dark droplets marking her path, guiding her to the sliver of light spilling from the study. She dropped to a knee, pressing a finger into one of the droplets. She was both disgusted and curious at the same time and positive she was about to regret her life choices. In the dim light, she stared at the wet smear on her fingers, rubbing them. She looked closer. Not water.
But blood.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
She snatched her hand back as if she’d touched something hot and the sensation of burning had just hit. Every sense in her was telling her to get up and get help. Call out. She opened her mouth, preparing to scream. It was the sudden pressure of something hard pressed into the back of her head that silenced the scream in her throat.
“Ah, ah, ah. Not a good idea,” the voice behind her said, low and urgent. The presence of a solid body radiating heat too close to her, having materialized from nowhere, made her lose her footing. A hand grabbed her tightly by the elbow and yanked her up and flush with his body.
“You just don’t know how to stay out of shit, do you?” Jackson breathed into her ear. “You’ve got to be the nosiest bitch I have ever met.”
She swallowed hard, her mind going blank as he shifted the pointy pressure from the back of her head to in front of her, showing her the black GLOCK he held. He made his point silently, shutting her up.
“Since you decided to crash our party of two, you can serve as both witness and motivation. Not a word. Go.”
He squeezed where he held her upper arm, his fingers digging deeply into her muscle. Isla gasped from the pain. He pushed her forward, keeping close to her, toward the cracked door.
“Dixon? Myles? Is that you?” Victor called from inside. “Get in here. You asked to meet, didn’t you?”
Jackson nudged the door open with his toe, opening it wide enough for them to shuffle in, Isla first with him right behind, holding her by the arm, with the muzzle right to her head. That was what Victor saw, his mouth dropping open in shock and horror as his eyes jumped from Isla to Jackson.
Jackson kicked the door closed behind them. He repositioned himself behind her so she couldn’t get out of his grasp easily.
“Sorry I lied, boss. That would be me who dialed in that emergency meet to you.”
Victor thundered, “What the hell—” He sucked in air as Jackson pressed the gun harder against Isla at the volume, a warning to Victor.
Victor lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”
“She haseverythingto do with this,” Jackson retorted. “She is the reason for all this. And if you don’t sit the fuck down, old man, I will kill her right in front of you. And you’ll be next before anyone gets here.” He waggled the muzzle in the air. “Crazy the things you can buy. Thank God for capitalism, the NRA, and the freedom to buy whatever the fuck you want, even if it’s only used to kill people. Who needs a silencer but people intending to kill others without being caught, am I right?” He chuckled.
“Asshole,” Isla breathed, wiggling to get out of his tight grasp. She whimpered when he hit her with the butt of the gun, not hard enough to make her pass out but enough to let her know not to test him.
Victor put his hands up to appease the both of them. “Okay, okay. You’re the lead here,” he said.
Jackson growled, “Don’t play me like we’re in the boardroom, old man.”
“What do you want?”
Jackson scoffed. “What do you think? For you to sign over everything to Bennett. Name him as the next CEO taking over the company.” Jackson pushed Isla into a chair and repositioned himselfbetween her and Victor, aiming the gun at Victor when Isla was too scared to move. She was obsolete. Victor was his intended mark.
Victor said from behind his desk, “Threatening me isn’t going to make me sign anything over to Bennett. You’d need to kill me anyway for his succession to be put in play if I was stupid enough to sign. And who’s going to believe I did that willingly?”
Isla’s hands dampened—the opposite of Victor’s cool, unruffled demeanor. She was barely hanging on. Once Jackson was done with Victor, she would be next.
“No one will believe it.”
Jackson laughed. “Just like no one thought Eden was dead until you uncovered her bones? I had you believing she was alive all these years from one little letter and a couple of little international transactions. You don’t think I can make people believe you killed yourself and”—he looked at Isla—“her in a fit of grief over your daughter and rage that she knew something had happened and lied all this time? Absolutely I can. And without even being around. Bennett will know what to do when he sees what your will says.”
Jackson was sweating bullets. He winced as he pulled a stack of papers from inside his coat and tossed them on the desk. His wound. Isla had forgotten that Victor had wounded him. She’d forgotten that the blood trail on the floor belonged to him. Having a gun to your head made you forget things quick.
He motioned with the weapon for Victor to pick up the papers.
Calmly, Victor sat in his high-backed chair, always cool, ever defiant. “You’re crazy.”
“It doesn’t have to end like this,” Isla said, trying to keep Jackson calm to buy them some time. He had the gun on Victor. He’d shoot without hesitation. He had nothing more to lose.