“So what I really think is,” Keegan finished. “That those two motherfu – uh. Those two individuals who I saw at the warehouse were involved in the rape video and blackmail somehow, probably directly. I think the one guy – the one with the dragon tattoo who was skulkin' around my café – is in charge somehow, he’s the one callin’ the shots. Dalton’s watchin’ the – the video again right now.” He winced. “I described the two guys that I saw and asked him to see if he could see any distinguishing marks on the assho – uh. People in the video.”
“Anything in particular that you’re looking for?” Jack asked. “I mean in the way of marks that might identify the guys in the video?”
“Tattoos on forearms,” Keegan said. “A dragon on one guy and a bulldog on the other.”
“I didn’t see tattoos in the video, exactly,” Jack told him. “I only watched about two minutes, but I saw –” He glanced at the women, wary about describing too much of the violent, bloody scene that he’d unfortunately witnessed. “I saw a guy’s arm pretty clearly and I know that he has something on his right hand and arm, but whatever it is – tattoo or birthmark or scar – it was blurred out.” Jack sighed. “No way to identify anyone by what’s not there.”
“The guy who did all the talkin’ has a huge dragon tattoo from his right hand all the way up his arm.”
“Well… I can’t say anything for sure, but the area of the body that was blurred out matches what you’re saying. Considering the size, a tattoo makes more sense than a birthmark.”
“So it was him,” Keegan said, almost to himself. “He’s one of the ones who – who hurt her. Who blackmailed her and who held on to that damn video for years, just held it over her head for fun and to keep her dancin’ to his tune. He’s one of the ones who set it loose into the world to totally embarrass her. Destroy her. I guess she stopped playin’ the game and he had no more use for her.”
“Yes,” Meredith said. “He is involved, they both are. As far as I understand, the man with the dragon tattoo is Trish’s ex-manager and the brains behind pretty much everything unsavory and repulsive. Trish says that she has no idea who the second guy in the video is, but she’s pretty sure that it’s not the man with the bulldog tattoo who you met at the warehouse. Bulldog is just the low-level flunky who was sent to collect money from her every few weeks.”
Keegan narrowed his eyes. “Money?”
“To keep the video unreleased. You were quite right about that part of things.” Meredith shook her head sadly. “She told me a bit as she was packing her bags at warp-speed.”
“Did she tell you that he was dangerous? The ringleader guy?”
“Yes. Very.” She sighed. “I begged her to stay here. I said that I’d get someone to protect us all, that I’d pay anything to keep her safe. I offered to pay for a lawyer so she could pursue any case that she wanted to bring against that monster – rape charges or extortion or blackmail. I said that we’d fight it together, right to the end. But she insisted that she had to go.”
“She thought you’d be better off with her away from here?”
“That’s what she said. She said that she wasn’t worth all that time, money and effort. That she was just –” Meredith bit her thin lip. “Just an ex-whore and we were all better off without her.”
“Damn woman,” Keegan said softly. “So she’s left Denver?”
“She didn’t tell me where she was going,” Meredith said, then glanced at Jack. “But…”
Keegan shot to his feet, fighting to wild urge to launch himself at Jackson Taylor and throttle the man for information. “You know where she is! King has her under surveillance, right?”
“I can’t discuss any King’s Men activities with you,” Jack said in a robot voice. “Not unless the client instructs me to do so.”
“You may consider yourself so instructed, Mr. Taylor,” Meredith said imperiously. “I am, after all, the client.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jack turned back to Keegan with a flourish. “We know where Trish Montgomery is. King and Mrs. Carmichael discussed the very real possibility that Callum Decker – he of the dragon tattoo – might show up here, or he might pursue Ms. Montgomery.”
“Callum Decker?” Keegan growled. “That’s the fuckhead’s – uh. Dragon tattoo’s name?”
“It is.”
“Is he anywhere close to Trish?”
“He is, yes.”
“Where is she?” he snapped. “Where the living hell is she?”
Jack looked at Meredith. “Ma’am?”
“I’ll take it from here, Mr. Taylor,” she said. “Why don’t you and Nora go get a coffee?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Keegan watched them leave the room, then turned to look at Meredith again. She gestured at the chair next to her.
“Sit, Mr. Sinclair.”
Though sitting was the last thing that he wanted to do – his only thought was to dash out of the house and go straight to Trish and save her from whatever the hell was lurking around her – he did as he was told.
“Now.” She gazed at him, those blue eyes not missing a single damn thing. “You want to know where Trish is.”
“I do. Very much.” He felt his legs taut and hard under him, as though they were getting ready to run and pounce. Hell, even his prosthesis seemed to be tensing up like a flesh-and-blood muscle. “I want to get to her before that prick does.”
“Language, young man.”
“I’m sorry. That was – it was crude.” Keegan forced himself to cool down and focus. He needed to know what she knew, and pissing her off was not the way to go here. “I’m just very upset. I’m beside myself, actually, and I don’t know what to do anymore. I’ve made a godda – uh. A big mess of everythin’ and I’m itchin’ to put it right if I can. I’m just askin’ for a chance to do that.”
“I quite understand, Mr. Sinclair.” Meredith took a tiny sip of water, every movement calm and measured. “I do believe that you were shocked and distraught at walking into that warehouse and witnessing what you did. I also believe that you care for Trish deeply.”
He nodded, his throat too thick with emotion to actually utter the single-syllable word ‘Yes’.
“But here’s the thing: Trish is safe. I know this. I’ve made sure of this.” Meredith cocked her head at him, nailed him with her sharp gaze. “She doesn’t know this, of course.”
“She doesn’t know about King’s Men?”
“To an extent. She knows that I called and requested security for me, my family and Nora, and my property. She insisted on it, to be frank, and she walked out the door only after the delightful Mr. Kingston arrived with my sons. Trish doesn’t know, however, that I hired an extra bodyguard.”
“For her.”
“Yes. For Trish.”
“So he has eyes on her now?”
“Yes,” Meredith said. “He’s had eyes on her since she stepped out of this house.”
Keegan was breathing a bit easier now; Trish wasn’t all alone and unprotected out there, then. Someone had her back. He wished that it was him – but one of King’s highly-trained and ferocious people was a pretty damn adequate substitute.
“So you see,” she continued. “Your presence isn’t required, Mr. Sinclair. There is no need for you to mount your white steed and gallop to the damsel’s rescue, because she’s perfectly fine without you.”
Shit, that hurt. Keegan opened his mouth to protest, but she held up one manicured hand and he fell silent.
“You failed her in that warehouse. You know that. I’m fully aware of how it all looked, but if you knew Trish – really, truly knew her – you’d never have believed that she’d sneak away and film a pornographic movie behind your back. It would have been a ludicrous, laughable scenario to give any credence to whatsoever – and yet you did.” She gave a ladylike little huff. “Now here you are, demanding to know where she is, as if you have any right to that young lady whatsoever after what you did to her.”
Keegan sighed.
“You’re right. About all of it.”
“I am right about all of it,” she said as though stating the most obvious fact on the planet. “So what I’m asking you, Mr. Sinclair, is why did you believe it?”
And there it was, the question that Dalton had tap-danced around a bit, and which Keegan had been studiously avoiding asking himself directly. Evasion was over now, he knew, because it was crystal clear that Meredith wasn’t about to let him squirm and charm his way out of answering.
It was a loaded question that he needed to answer if he wanted to see Trish again; he also had to answer it if he wanted to face and own something important about himself.
So – why had he believed it? Knowing who Trish was and who she’d been, knowing how hard she’d fought to start again, how much she’d struggled to be totally honest with him, why would he think that she’d throw herself straight back into the world of porn?
OK, yes, she’d lied to him about that text. She hadn’t told him about the blackmail, withheld things from him. She hadn’t confided in him about what was happening, what had happened in L.A. She’d carried her dark secrets around on her back and in her heart, and she hadn’t lightened that burden by sharing any of it with him.
Why hadn’t she?
Why the actual hell didn’t she trust me to confide in, help her, protect her?
Is that what’s pissin’ me off and hurtin’ me the most?
“Well,” he said at last. “It was because of me, I guess. Because Trish was my first real relationship since losin’ my leg.”
Meredith leaned forward. “Go on.”
“Uhhh.” Keegan ran his hands through his dark hair, wishing that he was better with words. “I wasn’t – I think that a part of me never stopped bein’ amazed that a gorgeous woman like that would want to – to be with a man like me.”
“A man missing a leg?” Meredith’s words were merciless, but her voice was very gentle. “A man like that, you mean?”
Keegan flinched. “Yeah. Trish had choices, and plenty of ‘em. No shortage of guys wantin’ to be with her or lookin’ for a bit of her attention. Hell, even just walkin’ around the grocery store, the woman caused shopping cart wrecks and pile-ups, you know?”
“I do know,” Meredith said. “I saw the exact same reactions at the bank, at restaurants, as we went for a walk. She literally stopped the traffic.”
“Right? So there she was, stoppin’ traffic, and she’s with me, a guy who’s not – not whole.” He took a deep breath. “So when I saw her with those two low-lifes and all that porn stuff and that one creep told me that they’d been textin’ with Trish for almost two years, I just – I felt like I’d been expectin’ it, somehow. Like – of course she’d be cheatin’ and sneakin’ around on me, because who could be totally satisfied with a lame duck? Especially a woman like Trish, who’s nothin’ short of a pocket angel.”
“I thought that you’d accepted your condition with your leg, Mr. Sinclair. Moved on and made peace with it.”
“Well, I guess that I haven’t!” he snapped. “So sue me for havin’ a hard time with it, lady!”
Shocked and horrified at what he’d just said, Keegan stared at Meredith. She, however, looked totally calm.
Almost like she knew what I’d say before I said it.
“Dammit,” he said, then mentally told himself to just stop fuckin’ swearin’, man, Jesus. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Carmichael.”
“Meredith,” she responded. “And don’t be sorry for telling the truth, Keegan.”
“I honestly didn’t know… I told Trish that I was beyond losin’ my leg, ‘cause I really thought that I was. I mean… it’s been goin’ on four years since Afghanistan, three since I got the prosthesis. I’ve worked so damn hard to be able to look at myself in the mirror and I’m OK with what I see there. I promise you, I thought that I’d accepted my leg bein’ gone.”
“And you may well have been in most ways, like accepting your prosthesis as necessary and working out how to physically get around. You’ve started and now run a successful business, you have close family and friends, and you show no bitterness about your loss. But…” She paused. “…looking at yourself in the mirror and being all right with what you see, and looking at yourself through the eyes of a beautiful, desirable woman are not the same thing.”
“No, they’re not.” Keegan dropped his hand to his left leg, tapped his fingers on the prosthesis. “You’re right, about everythin’. I learned to accept my body and my reality, I built a life. I moved on in what I thought were all the important ways… but I never really relaxed with the idea that Trish could actually find me…” His voice trailed off.
“Attractive? Virile? Strong?” Meredith gave him a surprisingly wicked grin. “Sexy?”
He blushed; hearing the words ‘virile’ and ‘sexy’ come out of this woman’s mouth was a strangely disconcerting experience.
“Yeah, all of those words,” he mumbled. “But please don’t say ‘sexy’ again. You’re freakin’ me out.”
She laughed, then turned serious once more. “Keegan, you have some more healing to do. Trish has lots of healing to do, we know now. You both held things back and away from each other, but you were both as honest as you knew to be at the time. I think if you see all of that – really see that here and now – then you have a shot at convincing me to tell you where she is.”
“Please,” he said softly. “Please. Let me go find her. Not to swoop in and save the day, ‘cause King’s Men have that part covered and I get that, but because I owe her an apology for not listenin’ to her at the warehouse. I should never have walked out without givin’ her the chance to explain properly. I need to tell her that she wasn’t wrong – I was.”
“And?” Meredith prompted him. “What else do you have to tell her?”
“And… I have to tell her that I haven’t been totally truthful with her.” He swallowed. “I was insecure about my leg and even though I didn’t totally face it, the truth was that I was half-expectin’ her to leave me for a man who’s got two damn legs and none of the baggage. I spent all our time together askin’ her to be honest with me, tellin’ her how attractive I find openness – and I wasn’t even honest with myself, let alone her. So when that mess in the warehouse went down, I jumped to the worst possible conclusion, based a bit on her weird behavior, but mostly on my own failure to – to face my own fears.”
He stopped talking, took a deep breath. That was it, that was the whole damn ugly, bald-faced truth.
I fucked this up big-time.
Did I fuck it up beyond any and all hope?
Only Meredith can say right now.
Keegan held her gaze, knowing that there was nothing left to say, no more case to be made. He’d given it his shot, and she’d decide if it was good enough or not. Pride forbade him from pleading and anyway, he knew that Meredith would never respond to or respect him if he did.
Though it was sort of semi-tempting to fall to the floor and beg. Just to cover every single base.
Meredith stared right on back at him, very silent and still, barely blinking. Then without any warning, without a single move or hint that she was about to speak, she called: “Mr. Taylor!”
Keegan jumped. Jack appeared within four seconds, calm and unruffled, Nora close on his heels.
“Ma’am?”
“Would you kindly take it from this point? Exactly as we discussed earlier, if you please.”
“Yes, Mrs. Carmichael.” Jack turned to Keegan and beckoned. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Even though he didn’t have a clue what was going on, Keegan got to his feet and stared at Jack. “Uh. Go where?”
“To Ms. Montgomery.”
“Wait. Wait a sec.” Yet again, Keegan found himself struggling to catch up. “I’m – you’re takin’ me to Trish? And this was talked about beforehand – it was always the plan to take me to her?’
“Keegan.” Meredith’s voice had a tone of fondness but also exasperation, as if she were speaking
to a favorite pet or child who was always breaking her expensive vases. “Did you not notice the car five doors down on your way in here?”
“Ummm.” Keegan cleared his throat, wondering just how the hell all his training seemed to have totally deserted him lately. “I wasn’t lookin’ –”
“You truly are distracted, aren’t you?” she asked him. “Your dear mutual friend Tex Donovan is sitting in that car, keeping an eye on the house. Mr. Donovan is actually the one that Mr. Kingston assigned to be my personal bodyguard.”
“OK, so…” Keegan looked at Jack. “So… what’s he doin’ here?”
“He’s not here for me, Keegan. He’s here for you.”
“For me? Why?”
“Because he’s the man assigned to watch Trish and we’ve been waiting for you to show up, so Mr. Taylor can take you to her.” Meredith smiled. “Like I said: you certainly took your sweet time getting here.”
“Ah.” Keegan felt the overwhelming urge to scratch his head. “I see. I mean – kinda.”
“Well then.” Meredith was at her most imperious all of a sudden. “What are you waiting for? An engraved, hand-written invitation?”
Without another word, not all that keen to carry on looking like a massive idiot, Keegan followed Jack down the hallway. Jack had just opened the door, stuck his head out and nodded at Tex to come back inside, when Keegan heard Meredith saying his name in a tremulous voice.
He turned and saw her standing in the hallway, leaning on her walker just outside the living room entryway.
“Yes, ma’am?”
Keegan (Wounded Hero Book 1) Page 27
