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February 20, 9:14 p.m. 01 seconds
(Chicago, Illinois)
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Kyle tore down the reception hall. Coming back from searching his hotel room, he had just stepped out of an elevator. It was getting hard for him to keep his cool. He was supposed to have been on stage 11 minutes ago.
Everyone was looking for him.
And he was looking for Juniper.
Where the hell is she?
He got to the hall outside the banquet hall and paced, hands twisting his hair. The banquet hall was packed with a thousand people waiting to hear him speak. He picked up his phone one more time to call her and then he heard footsteps heading his way. With eager hope in his eyes, he looked up.
It wasn’t Juniper. It was the last person he wanted to see.
Denise.
Gliding up to him, she was smiling in that demonic way of hers. Some part of him knew the truth even before he saw the smugness on her face as she came closer.
She is why Juniper disappeared.
At this point, all the rage he expected to rise to the surface was diffused by his fear that Juniper was gone. Looking coolly down at his phone, he marshaled all his strength to ignore Denise.
“Looking for something?” she asked, heading into the banquet hall. “I think your little bird has flown away.”
Kyle’s head shot up. Turning in a flash, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her away from the banquet entryway. “What. Did. You. Just. Say?”
“Do you know Royce has security?”
Kyle let go of her wrist and said through gritted teeth, “If you had anything to do with Juniper...I will—”
Denise laughed and it was the worst sound he had ever heard.
“Oh yes. Empty threats again. What are you going to do...destroy me? So predictable. Sweetheart, you tried to destroy me and you failed miserably. You’re kind of an amateur at this. It’s no fun playing with you.”
“Shut up.”
“I get so bored with average people. Then I meet someone like you. Finally, someone as twisted as me. And I think, hey let’s have fun.” She looked down at her fingers and blew at her red nails. “Remember, when we were kids, you never wanted to play what I wanted?”
“What the fuck?”
“I told you to play nice with me. But you never listen.”
“What the hell have you done?” Kyle asked with a growl.
“Only told her who you truly are.”
“Where. Is. She?” he asked in a tone that would have sent chills up the spines of a few MS13 thugs.
At this, Kyle was surprised that he was not consumed by his need for revenge, but by his need to find Juniper.
“She’s gone.”
“What have I ever done to you, Denise, except to say no to you?”
“You know what I do to people who say no to me? Remember Peter Mannings? When we were nine...he didn’t wanna play the Mash game with me. Like ever. I waited till High School and then I got him back. So bad. He got transferred even though I was in another state by then. I wait and wait till I find something that will truly go ouch. So, Kyle, enjoy.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” With self-control he didn’t know he had, his knotted his hands into fists. “You were with my brother and when I found out, I dropped you. Instantly. But your fragile ego couldn’t handle that, could it? And then you convinced him that I was the one chasing after you. I would never betray my brother—no matter what. It’s sad he does not see you for who you really are. It would be so easy for me to show him your true face.”
Denise’s strong front crumbled and her lips wobbled. “You don’t deserve any happiness, Kyle. I will make sure of it.”
Kyle remained calm and impassive for he realized more than anything else in the world, Denise wanted him to crack, to feel devastated, to tremble at her might, and feel sorry he rejected her.
“Go inside, Denise.” He shot her an indifferent look. “Nice try in your pathetic bid for attention. You are not important enough for me to go to war with—as you have been trying to do. I couldn’t care less what you do and think. Nor will I ever.”
Denise paled 10 shades and he saw the fear in her eyes. This was the opposite reaction she was expecting.
She had lost.
With a flare of her nostrils and an audible huff, she was gone.
Kyle released his fists. He had been clenching so hard, his palms felt freshly tattooed.
