Chapter Thirty-Four
Tamsyn
Working late wasn’t her favorite. Especially when it kept her from spending time with her daddy. Hux had said he would wait up for her, pick her up when she was finished and bring her home, but he needed his rest. And just as he took care of her, so too would she take care of her daddy. Someone had to, and now that Lolo had left it was up to her.
Was he really gone for good? The idea hurt so much she couldn’t stand it. Unfortunately, the pain wasn’t enough to keep her awake. She’d been staring at spreadsheets and figures for Harvey for so long her eyes were starting to cross and she might face plant into her keyboard.
Which would be bad not only because she’d be asleep at her desk but also because who knew what damage her head would do in the process. She could delete entire files, or fuck up formulas, and that would be a worse position than she was in now. Since this was a heaven sent second chance to prove to both Harvey and Grant exactly how good she was, she had to get it right. All of it.
Tamsyn wasn’t a quitter, but she also prided herself on being responsible and making good choices. The smart thing to do would be to go home, get a little sleep and then finish this up in the morning. It would take more time, yes, but it would likely prevent errors which meant time and reputation savings in the long run. So that’s what she’d do.
She pushed back from her desk, stretched her arms over her head, and breathed through the light-headedness. Yeah, she needed to go home and go to bed. For a split-second, she considered calling Hux to come get her even if she’d told him she’d be fine. He wouldn’t be happy that she let herself get so tired, but she wouldn’t be happy if he dragged himself out of bed when a little walking and some brisk outside air would probably wake her up enough for the short drive home.
It was creepy in her office this late at night, the movement-sensing fluorescents lighting up overhead as she made her way to the elevator. Slightly less creepy when she was inside and the doors had slid shut, and totally fine as she walked through the darkened lobby, waving at the night security guard on her way to the set of elevators that would bring her down to the parking garage.
It was cold and dank in the subterranean structure, almost completely empty and echoey. Like something out of a true crime show. At least she’d parked close to the elevators and only had to endure a few moments of her heels clicking across the concrete before she could climb into her car and lock the doors behind her.
Paranoia wasn’t really her style but come on, this was a scene straight out of a horror movie or a police procedural. No one could blame her for being kinda creeped out.
Especially because when she started the car and looked in her rearview mirror to back out, she caught a glimpse of a figure all in black in the backseat who lunged at her before she could gather her thoughts enough to do or say anything.
Tamsyn didn’t have time to do anything before she felt a cable or rope or something wrap around her neck and pull her hard against the seat, the back of her skull mashing hard against the headrest as she scrambled for purchase on the ligature.
This could not be happening. She was an actuary, for god’s sake, not a mob princess or the head of a drug empire. But while she might not be able to fathom why someone had broken into her car and was trying to strangle her, she could feel the how. Oh, could she feel it.
The way her assailant somehow tightened the cord around her neck even as she tried to pry her fingertips underneath to pull it away to get some relief, maybe even escape. The panic that rose in her chest even as she couldn’t make a sound because her breath was being cut off, her throat constricted.
Terror consumed her, making it hard to think. Or maybe that was the lack of oxygen because her vision was definitely getting spotty, black fog closing in. The fear made her hot and reckless, feet flailing as she kicked to try to get some leverage and maybe relieve some of the pressure around her throat.
Some darkly sick part of her wanted to use her safeword, as if this was just some scene gone wrong, but no. This wasn’t a hand of one of her daddies circling her throat to give her the rush of being choked. The person behind her wanted her dead.
A calmer part of her brain that was somehow removed from the struggle she was currently embattled in told her she might have better luck letting go of the cable that was throttling her so she could honk the horn, put the car in gear, something to startle the attacker long enough to get free. But the feral part of her couldn’t stomach letting go, for better or for worse.
Her head felt thick, like the fog was enveloping her brain and not just her vision. The cable cutting into her neck felt even tighter now, so constricting that her windpipe felt crushed, throat swollen. No air. No oxygen.
No matter how hard she fought, it wasn’t enough. She couldn’t loosen the cord, never mind escape it. She was going to die. Here in this parking garage, alone except for her murderer. Murderer. She was being murdered.
She would never see her daddy again, never see Lolo, never see Maddie. Thank god for Reid at least, because Maddie would be a wreck. And her daddies? She hoped they’d be able to reach across whatever was holding them apart long enough to offer each other comfort.
Would they accept help from people at Hive? Or would they stew in isolated loneliness? No, she didn’t think Maddie would let that happen, and neither would the people at the club. And despite her mixed emotions about their fucked up family, neither would the Foster-Webbs.
That cold comfort was the last thing in her mind before the black closed in on her vision and winked out entirely.
* * *
Huxley
His phone’s ringtone cut the stillness of the night, and Huxley sat bolt upright.
Yes, he’d told Tamsyn he would turn his phone on Do Not Disturb because he hadn’t been sleeping well since Lo left, and he had. But his Do Not Disturb still let through calls from his little girl.
Maybe she’d changed her mind about driving home herself, which would be wonderful. He would love to bring her back here. Even if she drew a hard line on not being babied, he could at least cuddle her and get her to eat something before she went back to work in the morning. His precious little kitten worked too hard, and he wouldn’t see her ruin her health or her happiness for some corporate interests.
But when he picked up the phone, it wasn’t her smiling, ponytailed picture looking back at him. It was his twin’s number flashing across the screen. Why the hell was Lo calling? Sure, his brother could keep odd hours, but he was religious about letting Huxley get his sleep. He’d never—
Which meant something had to be horribly, horribly wrong.
He’d barely swiped to accept the call before Lo’s voice was coming through the speaker.