At His Side: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 9

Chase and Isabeau race to the pier in an attempt to stop Lex Smith from leaving the country, ruining the lives of the employees at Drake & Smith.

When they arrive, things heat up when a blast from the past appears in cahoots with Lex. Can they band together to capture them and save the day? And can Chase capture the heart of the women proven to be his perfect match?

This 5300 word story is the thrilling conclusion of the bestselling erotic romance series, The Billionaire's Beck and Call.

EXCERPT:

I dialed the police, then listened to the ringing on the other end, harmonizing with the squealing tires of Mr. Drake’s car as he rocketed out of the parking lot toward Morton’s Pier. I pulled on the edge of my skirt, my hands restless as I waited for someone to pick up the phone. Mr. Drake’s jaw was set, his eyes glued to the road. Finally, there was a click on the other end of the line. I spoke before the operator could finish his greeting.

“Yes, hello? Please, we need to report a crime. It’s an emergency.”

I tried to keep my voice calm even while adrenaline coursed through me at the thought that all those people–people I’d had lunch with, sat with during meetings, chatted with in the break room–could lose everything if we didn’t stop Lex in time.

Mr. Drake’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel as he cut through traffic. I gave as many details as I could to the operator, telling them to send squad cars to look for Alexander Smith at the airport, but that we suspected he was trying to flee the country by sea.

“Please, stay on the line, Ms. Willcox,” the operator said. “We’re sending squad cars to meet you at the pier. Don’t make a move until we get there.”

“No problem.”

I held the phone to my ear, my hand now slippery with sweat. The car jumped as Mr. Drake crashed over a speed bump, roaring into the outer parking lot of the marina. The gate was down, the striped barrier arm down over entrance to the Yacht Club, blocking access. Mr. Drake swore beside me, before slamming the car to a halt. Without another word, he jerked the keys out of the ignition and barreled out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

“They said to wait!” I called, but he was already gone, running down the pier. “Shit.”

“What’s that, Ma’am?” The operator’s voice in my ear startled me.

“Please hurry,” I said, and ended the call.