Redemption

by Jennifer Bene

  “What did you keep?” Lianna held her breath, trying not to let her hope build too much.

  “Copies,” he answered, keeping his voice low. “The files this asshole and his father put together. All the shit he did to you.”

  “You kept that?” David asked, shock and anger blending together.

  “I swear to God, do not say another word to me,” Michael growled, leaning forward like he wanted to wrap his hands around David’s throat — which he probably did. “The only reason I didn’t make sure you ended up in this shithole, or six feet under, was because she told me not to. But I wasn’t going to miss my chance if one day she woke up and realized how stupid it was to try and protect you. And, someday, she might still do that, and I hope I’m still here when she does just so I can welcome you properly.”

  “Michael,” she snapped. “Where are the files?”

  “In a safe deposit box at First Republic Bank in midtown Manhattan,” he answered through clenched teeth, still glaring at David for a moment before he turned toward her and let out a huff of breath. “Number 118. The key is with my ex-girlfriend, Natasha Edmunds. I gave her a lot of money to hold onto it, so I’m sure she still has it.”

  “You had a girlfriend?” Lianna asked, surprised by the idea. She’d never seen Michael with a woman... ever.

  “Before this? Yeah.” Nodding, he sat back from the table, running a hand through his hair. “I told her to move on when I took the deal for six years, but she’s holding the key for me until I get out, and she doesn’t know what it goes to.”

  “How are we supposed to get her to turn it over? And where is she?” she pressed, and Michael got a look on his face that was somewhere between a smile and stifling a frown.

  “She still writes me sometimes,” he answered quietly, clearing his throat. “Hasn’t changed her number. I think she’s trying to wait for me… but it’s only been seven months. I don’t think she’ll be there for me when I get out, but she’ll still have the key. I know that much.” Looking up at her, Michael chewed on his lip for a moment before nodding once. “She’ll give it to you. Just call her and tell her that I want you to have the key. Tell her who you are… and remind her about the date we took to Coney Island where she threw up cotton candy on my shoes.”

  “Really?” Lianna asked, trying to imagine anyone throwing up on Michael. Other than her anyway... he’d always been the one to try and take care of her when she got sick.

  Sighing, Michael nodded. “Yes. She’ll know I sent you. You’re going to have to memorize her phone number though.” Gesturing at the empty table, he smiled a little. “Nothing to write with.”

  “Okay.” Lianna closed her eyes to focus as he rattled off the number, and she repeated it back. When she fucked it up, he did it again, and again, and again, until she could recite it perfectly. David even started whispering the numbers under his breath along with her, just to prove they both knew the woman’s phone number.

  Natasha Edmunds — their only hope.

  Glancing up at the clock on the wall, she knew they were running out of time, but at least they’d got what they came for. They had a chance. Swallowing, she looked at David, noticing how tense he still was, and then she looked back at Michael to find him already staring at her. “If there’s proof in there... this might save my life.”

  “And where will we be?” he asked softly.

  “I don’t know yet,” she answered, and he sighed, groaning under his breath.

  “I just wish you’d believe me,” he whispered, speaking a little louder when he looked at her again. “Believe that I always tried to do my best for you. To keep you safe. To protect you from everything your father was involved in.”

  It was tempting to shove away the pretty words, but she couldn’t deny them that easily. In the end, he had chosen her over her father, even though he’d almost been too late. Would have been too late if not for David. Still, she had too many memories of him taking care of her, showing up when her father didn’t, and she couldn’t deny that there were probably a hundred, a thousand times that he’d sheltered her from her father’s actions. Licking her lips, Lianna tried to find the right words. “I... I do believe you, Michael. About that anyway. And I know you’re only in here because you’re still trying to protect me.”

  “That’s… nice to hear.” There was a hint of emotion in his words before he swallowed hard.

  When she really looked at him, it was surprising what seven months had done to the man who used to always look so professional, so put together. She’d only seen him out of a suit and tie a handful of times in her life, and he’d always seemed larger than life to her. A constant, strong presence... but he’d lost weight in here. There wasn’t enough color in his cheeks, and the tired haze in his eyes seemed permanent judging by the bags under them. Lianna knew it would probably irritate the hell out of David, but Michael had helped them, and she needed to return the favor. “Look, is there anything you need in here?”

  “A get out of jail free card?” Michael deadpanned.

  “Ha. Ha.” Shaking her head, she felt a smile tug at her lips. “What about money for the commissary? Books?”

  Michael looked a little surprised, leaning back from the table to stare at her for a second before he nodded. “That would be helpful.”

  “I can do that,” she replied. “They finally unfroze my accounts.”

  “I’m glad they finally left you alone. And, I’d appreciate whatever you can send.”

  Glancing at David, she shifted closer to Michael, intent on having his attention so he’d really listen. “I know you hate him, and I even understand why... but I need you to understand that he’s not that guy. Not anymore.”

  “You don’t have to defend me to him,” David said, his voice low. “He’s got his own list of sins, and even if this doesn’t pan out, I’m going to keep you safe.”

  Michael turned toward David, staring at him hard. “I may hate you, but I’m still counting on you protecting her. If there isn’t evidence in those files to point at Marc, the target is gonna stay on Lianna’s back. So, you better put yourself between her and anyone that tries to hurt her.”

  “I did last time, didn’t I?” David replied seriously, and Michael softened a little as he looked at the table.

  “Yes, you did... and it’s one of the only reasons you’re still alive.”

  Done with the endless male pissing contest, Lianna pushed to her feet, ready to go even though they had a few minutes left, but Michael’s eyes widened as he tore his gaze from David to look up at her. “Do you have to leave so soon?”

  “What else is there to talk about?” she asked, and Michael opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but he shut it a second later, a heavy sadness passing over him and pulling his mouth down at the edges as he nodded stiffly. Reluctantly, he stood, and she saw David rise in her peripheral vision, but no one made a move. It was too awkward, because she had no idea how to say goodbye to him.

  “It was really great to see you, Lianna,” Michael finally whispered, breaking the silence. “It’s the best thing that’s happened to me in seven months.”

  A pang of guilt made her chest hurt, and despite everything she knew he was guilty of — for a moment she just wanted to hug him again. Michael had done many things wrong, but he was also the man who’d taken her shopping for her first pair of heels, snuck her out to an ice cream truck when she saw one on TV and begged to go to one. Michael was dangerous, just like all of the Faures, but he’d been her Uncle Mike long before she knew he was Michael Turner, or Joseph Blanc.

  Pushing her hair behind her ears, Lianna spoke softly. “Michael... I don’t know if we can ever be like we were before. I don’t think that’s possible, but I am grateful for what you did for me, and for David.” Looking over at David, she was glad to see he wasn’t broadcasting his irritation for the man anymore. Turning back to Michael, she took a breath. “And I’m sorry I haven’t come here to say that before now. It’s been a little roug
h being investigated by the FBI.”

  It may have been a lie, she wasn’t sure whether she meant it or not, but it was the right thing to say. The small smile on Michael’s face was all the proof she needed that the words meant more than any care package she may have sent along.

  He looked into her eyes for a moment before he tilted his head to the side. “I’ve understood why you haven’t come. I figured your lawyers were telling you to stay away anyway, but I remember the last time I came to your apartment.”

  “When I told you I never wanted to speak to you again.”

  “Yeah.” He nodded a little, taking a slow breath. “I guess I should feel lucky you came at all. But I want you to know that I’m glad you did. I’m glad I know what’s going on, even though now I’m just more worried about you. If they really think you did this, Lianna… there is no forgiveness. They’ll come after you.”

  “It’s why we need proof.”

  “And I hope you find it,” he said, stepping forward, arms spread like he planned to hug her, but he stopped almost as soon as he started. When his arms dropped, she closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his back in a light hug. He leaned his cheek against the side of her head, his arms coming around her, and she felt a surge of emotion bring tears to the edge of her eyes as she remembered a million hugs just like it. When he was Uncle Mike, wearing a perfectly pressed suit, listening to her complain about school or friends or boys. It was easier to just give in to the comfort, the memories, and she pushed away all the betrayals she still felt like a raw nerve just beneath her skin. She’d needed to hug him more than she’d guessed, even if only to thank him for protecting her during the fallout of her father’s corruption.

  “I’ll send you a care package, okay?” she whispered, and he squeezed her just a little tighter.

  “This is better than a care package.”

  “Break it up,” a guard barked, and Michael kissed her hair, holding onto her for a second longer before he stepped back, and she caught the shine in his eyes that likely mirrored her own before he rubbed them with his fingers and cleared his throat.

  “Please update me as soon as you can,” he said, his voice a little more gravelly than before. “You can get the mailing address from the guards if you really want to send something.”

  “We will. I promise.”

  Nodding slightly, Michael clenched his jaw tight and then he looked over at David, intense and serious when he spoke. “Keep her safe. I don’t care if you die doing it.”

  “I think you’d prefer that,” David snarked.

  Michael shrugged. “No arguments here.” He stared at David for a little longer before he looked at her again. “I’ll always love you, Lianna. You’re family to me. The closest thing I’ll ever have to a daughter.”

  “Thanks, Michael,” Lianna mumbled, unable to process what he’d said in the moment. “I... I’ll try to come back sometime. If we survive this.”

  “Then I’ll keep my fingers crossed,” he whispered, the words almost overwhelmed by the sounds of other visitors and families standing and embracing.

  “Time’s up.” David reached over to take her hand, pulling her toward the exit, but she hesitated, and he looked back at her. She just couldn’t take her eyes off Michael, not yet. Good memories warred with horrifying ones, too many thoughts and too much knowledge kept her from feeling the way she had about him once... but it wasn’t completely gone. She’d thought it was, she’d thought she hated him, but standing in front of him — she knew it wasn’t true.

  She didn’t hate him, but she didn’t love him anymore either.

  He wasn’t her Uncle Mike, and he never would be again. But even though he’d told Jean-Luc what he knew, he hadn’t told him everything. He hadn’t turned over the files, which would have doomed them both.

  “Lianna?” David called for her, squeezing her hand tight as he pulled harder, but she only stumbled a step closer as she kept her eyes on Michael.

  “You should go,” he whispered, flicking a glance at the guards before he looked at her again.

  “I know.”

  “Then...”

  Lianna shook off David’s hand to hug Michael again, ignoring the bark of the guard as he hugged her back even tighter.

  “I miss you. The old you. How you... how we were before,” she whispered, trying not to let her voice crack as the tears overflowed.

  “I do too, Lianna, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Michael was yanked back from her, and she saw the guard with his hand wrapped around Michael’s arm. For a moment the guard looked angry, but when he saw her face, he softened his hold.

  “Visitation is over.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, sir,” she answered, and the guard nodded at her, nudging Michael toward the door.

  “Go on, inmate.” The prison guard led Michael out of the room, but he looked back at her once more before he disappeared into the hall. David ran his hand down her spine, resting it at the small of her back.

  “You okay?” he asked, and she shrugged, scrubbing at the tears.

  “I can’t forgive him... but I can’t hate him either.”

  “I get that,” David answered quietly, and she looked at him in surprise. “I don’t like him, and I think he’s an asshole, but when it came down to you or your father, he did what had to be done. He kept you alive, and even if he hates it, he’s protected you and me. So, I get it. I’ll never forgive him either, but I can’t hate him when we’re only alive because of what he did.”

  “Yeah.” Lianna nodded, stunned that David had been able to put into words what she couldn’t — too overwhelmed by the war still raging inside her.

  “Come on, angel. Let’s go make a phone call.” His mouth tilted in a lopsided smile as he led her to the door where another guard was waiting for them to start the long process back out of Rikers.

  Nineteen

  David

  They’d called Michael’s girlfriend once they’d passed through the exit process for Rikers Island, and Lianna put the phone on speaker so he could hear the conversation, which mostly consisted of the woman pretending she had no idea what they were talking about for about ten minutes. Even after Lianna had introduced herself several times, and explained her connection to Michael, the woman had continued to argue that she didn’t know anything about a key — until Lianna remembered the stupid Coney Island story.

  The line had gone silent for a minute, and then it was Natasha Edmunds’ turn to grill them on what the key went to and why they needed it. Eventually, David had just told the woman that Michael had made them swear to keep the information he shared private, and she’d finally relented. Her address in Queens wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but it was clear she took pride in the house and the flowerbeds out front. To both their surprise, she’d handed over the key without any further argument, but once David had it in his pocket, Natasha and Lianna had sat down on her front steps to talk about Michael and how he was doing.

  He’d given them space, leaning on the fence in front of her house until they were done. About half an hour later, Lianna hugged her, and David was pretty sure she’d been crying when Natasha finally went back inside and Lianna headed toward him.

  “You okay?”

  “Fine,” she answered, a little stiff as she straightened her sweater. “The bank will be open tomorrow morning. We should go early so we can see how much of your stuff he saved and get started on it.”

  “Sure, we’ll leave early. You... want to talk about what happened with you and Michael?” He didn’t look at her, not wanting to pressure her as he pulled up the Uber app to get a car home. “We don’t have to.”

  “Not today. I think I just want to go home and drink.”

  Nodding, he wrapped an arm around her. “Sounds good to me, angel.”

  Lianna leaned into him, and he decided that had to be enough for now. If she wanted to talk, she would, but they fell into a comfortable silence as they stood on the sidewalk waiting for the car. Still, he had
a feeling that Lianna was just one problem away from a full-blown breakdown. If they didn’t find what they needed in Michael’s safety deposit box... he didn’t know what he’d do. The Faures had a long reach, and they knew who Lianna was now. Worse, they had the money to find her even if they ran. But he’d still do everything in his power to protect her.

  Not because Michael Turner had told him to, but because he would have anyway.

  He’d been thinking about it since the call with Rémi.

  If there was no evidence of Marc’s betrayal, or if he couldn’t find out who’d really done it before things reached a boiling point... he’d tell Rémi it was him. Lianna would never forgive him for sacrificing himself, and he hated the idea of her being alone, but he’d been damned long before he’d first laid his hands on her. The things he’d done since weren’t near enough to balance the scales — but if he could keep her alive, give her a chance at a real life, then maybe whatever came next would take pity on him. And even if it didn’t, at least he’d die with the knowledge that Lianna was safe.

  Tilting her chin up, David looked into the bright blue of her eyes, still too shiny from the lingering tears, and he knew it was the right decision.

  No, it was more than just a choice, it was a promise... and he sealed it with a kiss.

  “Are you sure it was number 118?” Lianna whispered, the anxiety rolling off her in waves, and he nodded.

  “Yes, angel. I’m sure.”

  “What if it was 180? Could he have said that instead?” she asked, and he reached over to squeeze the back of her neck, gripping just hard enough to make her breath hitch.

  “You need to listen to me. I remember the box number. I’m not wrong. The bank doesn’t care who we are, they only care that we have the key — which we do.” Leaning down, he put his mouth right beside her ear as he tightened his grip a little more. “If you don’t calm down, I’m going to take you home and stripe your ass until you can’t sit down without making that pretty little whine I love so much. Do you understand?”