Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut (35 page)

"Y
ou killed him!" The assailant stumbled backward, the horror of Jesse lifeless body lying in the grass mirrored in his charcoal eyes.

"What about the girl? She can identify us." All three looked at me, but only one understood an important factor—the one possibly saving my life.

"No! Stay away from her. See her bracelet? She's one of
them.
This place will be crawling with cops any second. Let's get the hell out of here!" They bolted, leaving Jesse bleeding on the ground.

Rage flared within me. I reached under Jesse and pulled out his gun. Another flash of unrecognizable time as I scrambled to my feet, clicked the safety and leveled the barrel toward the dark figures, tripping over rocks and logs in their attempt to flee.

"NO! MARLI!" Someone grabbed my ankle and I fell forward, landing hard on my elbow. The report from the discharge of the gun reverberated into the carbon-colored night. Another scream howled, fading over the ridge after its own echo.

"JESSE!" I shrieked, realizing
he
held my ankle and was alive
.
I crawled to his side.

"Give me that." He wrenched the gun from my hand and wiped it across his chest. Suddenly, he hissed and his face contorted. "Damn! Marli, you could have killed someone!"

"You mean I didn't?"

"I doubt it, maybe caught a foot, but more than likely, just scared the shit out of them." Jesse fumbled under the bloody hem of his shirt until he found something resembling a button on his belt. He sucked in a sharp breath and held it. A tear dropped from his eye.

"Jesse? Where's your cell receptor?"

"My right front pocket," he winced, his eyes disappearing in folds of skin. When I reached in the pocket, his fingers pinched the back of my neck. "I can't believe I have the perfect opportunity to embarrass the hell out of you, and—
shit!
Marli, hurry!"

My face warmed at his innuendo. "You're disgusting and I know you're going to live, so I can hurt you later."

"You've already hurt me far worse than any stab wound, now hand me the damn cell before I pass out." His fingers clenched my arm, signaling another wave of pain.

I flipped it open prepared to dial for emergency services, but the screen was unlike any receptor I'd seen. There were five squares, each containing only a name, no number.
Dad, Jordan, Wizard, Home,
and
me.

"Jess?" I asked confused.

"Wizard," he demanded through gritted teeth. "Press
Wizard
."

I obeyed without question, tears spreading over my cheeks as I watched Jesse writhe on the gravel. He swallowed a deep breath and took the phone.

"Mike, we've got a problem. I've been stabbed. Send someone,
fast
. No, likely a flesh wound, but between Marli's screams and the gunshot, someone's surely called the police."

He rolled his eyes. "No, not me.
Marli.
Yes, she's right here. I know! I know! Moose should be here any second and I'll have him get her out of here. NO! Don't even think about making
that
call. He's...
fuck.
..the last person I want to deal with."

Jesse dropped the cell receptor, his hand crushing mine before he lost consciousness. Fresh, bright red blood oozed onto the ground, and my stomach lurched when the metallic smell hit. I crawled away and threw up in the grass. Mike shrilled from the phone and I quickly retrieved it from where it lay next to Jesse.

"Mike, it-it's Marli. What should I do? Jesse's drifting in and out of consciousness. He's lost a
lot
of blood," I sobbed, trying to hold the phone in my slippery, bloody hand.

Mike's voice sounded stern and commanding. "Marli, listen. This is very important and there is absolutely no room for argument. Where's the gun?"

"In Jesse's hand."

"Give it to Moose. He'll know what to do. You must go with Moose, do you understand?
You
cannot be involved in this
.
We'll take care of Jesse. Do what Moose tells you and everything will be all right, but if you don't, Marli
,
you'll put everyone in jeopardy, including Jordan
.
"

He disconnected and I collapsed onto Jesse's chest, his breathing labored and heartbeat slow. "Jess, I'm so scared. Please don't die."

A black van raced up the hill and skidded within inches of where we lay. Two men I didn't recognize jumped from the van, just as Moose rounded the side of the building, out of breath. The two unknown men leaned over Jesse, one holding a medical bag. Moose lifted me and I twisted inside his locked arms calling for Jesse, until someone held a cloth over my mouth.

Muffled voices rambled in the background, the cool, damp rag across my forehead drifting a memory forward.

"Jordan," I mumbled.

"She's coming around. Get me some water. Miss Davis?"

The face belonged to one of the strangers from the van. My eyes finally opened wide enough for me to recognize my surroundings. I lay on the sofa in Jesse's penthouse. In the corner sat a man in a black T-shirt with the word SECURITY stretched over a massive chest. No expression existed on his face, but when I rose, he immediately shifted in his chair ready to lunge in my direction. The man talking, wearing a black jacket with a medic patch, tried to push me back into the pillows. I eased into the bend of the sofa, dragged my knees to my chest and raised my hand in defense.

"You need to stay still until the anesthesia wears off." My brows touched. "Necessary measures," he answered my unasked question.

I rubbed my temples, willing the fogginess in my head to go away. "What's going on? Where's Brittany and Alex?"

"Asleep in your suite," answered Milo.

The baritone voice boomed from the corner chair. "Anyone watching them?"

"Brody's there. He'll keep us informed."

Moose walked into the room dismissing everyone and sending Milo in search of a pop machine I knew didn’t' exist. I said nothing, sensing a reason he needed to talk to me alone. My stomach did its usual calisthenics routine preparing for bad news and I wrapped my arms tighter around my folded legs.

He sat precariously on the coffee table across from me, and I worried the cheap furniture wouldn't support his massive body. As if reading my thoughts, he jiggled the table slightly and smiled.

"Sturdier than I thought."

"How's Jesse?"

"He's fine. A few stitches, but no major damage. He'll be sore and grouchy for a few days, but otherwise all right. We found the creeps who attacked you and things are taken care of."

Slowly, I twisted and perched on the edge of the sofa cushions. "I shot at them. Did anyone get hurt?"

"Only Jesse, but we have a bigger problem." He slapped an envelope on the table. "I don't know if these are directed to Jesse or you. We're scrambling to stop them from posting to cyber news sites before morning."

I tipped the envelope up and six color digital prints fanned across the table: Jesse and I eating dinner on the roof café at Flannigan's on Main Street…only we weren't eating. My hand pressed Jesse's cheek, his lips fastened tightly to mine, his hand at the base of my throat. Another shot showed Jesse holding me in the air—a playful catch after he snuck up behind me just outside the parking terrace. His mouth on my neck? Not so playful.

Two pictures taken through the penthouse window burned my cheeks hot, knowing Moose had already seen them. Jesse's hand up my back, my shirt in his fist, blue-checkered bra exposed. The second, his hand cupped my butt, held me against his knee—both with undeniable positioning of mouths locked together.

The next picture was eerie and both Moose and I exchanged a fearful look—me walking the edge of the hot tub behind a misty curtain. If my bright orange bikini didn't appear to glow, I would have appeared a ghostly apparition against a black backdrop.

The last picture showed Jesse and me dancing on the grass wrapped in each other's arms, right before the stabbing. I gulped down the panic squeezing my throat shut.

"Who took these?"

"We're not sure. At first, we thought a fan groupie followed the two of you, but the picture of you by the spa—"

"Brittany and Alex were there. Why aren't they in the picture?"

"Precisely. It appears
you,
not Jesse, may be whom the photographer targeted."

"Why?"

Moose tapped one of the digital prints taken through the penthouse window. "Your pink band—his yellow. I'm guessing taboo?" Each picture clearly identified the "taboo" around our wrists in vivid color.

Spies
? Chuck would freak if he saw these. I picked up the one exposing my bra. Rick would kill me, hunt down Jesse and dismember him—or at least a
part
of him. But worse? Jordan would magnify "ballistic."

"You don't think the guys who stabbed Jesse could be responsible?"

"No. It appears the scumbags you encountered were only stupid drunks. We figure this is personal." Moose looked at ornamental clock on the wall, ticking away one disaster and bringing us closer to the next one."

"Marli, here's how this will play out. Pay attention because I only have a few minutes to fill you in, after which we can never discuss this again.
First
, there was no shooting.
Second
, no gun exists. And
third
, you were asleep here in the penthouse, waiting for Jesse to return from band practice. Nothing happened, nor can you say anything about this to whomever asks
,
including your friends and family…not only this weekend, but forever
.
"

"What about the pictures?"

"Managed. If asked, deny being Jesse's date, but if at all possible, say nothing and avoid the press junkets."

Managed.
Who would "manage" Jordan when he found out?

Moose leaned closer. "Marli, you're going to have to trust me." The phrase had been said so much the past few months I found myself repeating it before he spoke the words.

"Jordan's going to be beyond angry." But with whom…Jess? Or
me
.

He shrugged his shoulders sympathetically. "Sorry, wish there was a way to control that fallout."

"I have to tell him before this explodes." I stared out the window at the blackness, considering. Another complication surfaced in my mind. "What about the concert?"

"Jesse's insisting we go ahead with the performance."

"What? Is he insane? Stupid question."

Moose's mouth curled with a light chuckle. "He wants to fulfill our contract with the resort to avoid any unwanted attention. We're booked with three other bands, but we have first billing. We'll leave after our set, so make sure you girls are packed. The sooner we're out of here, the better."

I questioned my friends monitoring and he explained that due to Brittany's involvement with The Program, they decided to take precautions, just in case something else developed. I couldn't handle any more
developments.
Moose also informed me that tonight I couldn't leave Jesse's suite.

When I quizzed him about the men in the van and the personality challenged "bulldog," another slight smile stretched his mouth. They were the security team Jesse's family paid to keep him out of the limelight as much as possible. I guessed if these pictures hit the cyber world, there would be a new security team.

"They only know what they're told. Tonight, Mike handled things."

"
Wizard.
Milo and Brody don't know the real story either, do they? That's why you sent Milo on an impossible errand. There's no pop machine on the second floor." Moose regarded me carefully, lips pushing to a straight line, confirming my suspicions.

"They think Jess got mugged on his way to check the equipment trailer."

"Who knows about the photos?"

"The security team, Mike, and the two of us. Jesse hasn't seen them."

"And Jordan?"

He blew a heavy sigh. Damn!

The door clicked when the security code cleared. Moose gave me a look and I understood. This conversation officially ended. I tucked the pictures under my arm and raced for Jesse's bedroom.

"Find me a receptor, Moose. I have to do my own damage control."