Cole hitched a shoulder. His anger withered, then died. “A while, I guess.”
“How long is a while?” Jax pressed.
Cole turned to his oldest brother. “Years.”
Jax swept a hand over his face and muttered, “Jesus.”
Finally, Calum spoke. “I feel like an utter shit.” He strode across the room, dragged Cole to his feet, and hugged the ever-loving life out of him, and then let him go just as abruptly.
“Bro, I’m so sorry. I know I’m a mouthy arrogant bastard who has far too much to say —at least that’s what Laurella told me last night.” He grinned briefly. When Cole didn’t return his twin’s smile, Calum looked him dead in the eye. “But you are the glue that sticks this family together. Jax might have been the one determined we would stay close as a family, but it’s you that made it possible. If it weren’t for you, we’d have torn each other apart years ago.”
“It’s true, Cole,” Jax said gently. “If any of us had known how you were feeling…” He tapered off almost as though he couldn’t find the right words.
Cole didn’t help him out either. He’d said his piece. No need to labor the point.
“Do you want to tell us what happened? With Millie, I mean?” Calum asked. His twin radar must be working, because he’d correctly picked up on Cole’s desire to move on.
Exhaling slowly, Cole brought his brothers up to speed. By the time he’d finished, they were both wearing the sort of shell-shocked expression he imagined he’d been sporting since he realized he had no choice but to let her carry out her plan. And Jax reacted exactly as Cole had expected him to. Selflessly.
“Screw the video. Screw the hotel. Go get her back.”
Cole raked his hands through his hair. “You don’t know what it will be like, Jax. The press won’t let this go. Remember that detective from Florida a few years ago? Penfold I think his name was. Similar scenario. In the end there was no case to answer, but by then it was too late; he lost his job, his home, his wife. Jesus, even his friends didn’t want anything to do with him. Millie was adamant she wouldn’t let that happen. Dammit, neither of us will let that happen to this family. Draven and I are working on a plan. If we come up empty, then we’ll think about alternatives. But for now, I want to try the path that will cause the least amount of damage, even if it’s fucking killing me inside to leave her with that bastard for a single minute.”
“What’s the plan?” Calum asked.
Cole gave him a look. “I’m not dragging the whole family into this. Draven and I will handle it.”
Calum gripped his shoulders, his fingers digging in. “You know where we are if you need anything.”
Ten minutes ago, Calum would have argued, demanded Cole tell him what the plan was, but whether Cole’s outburst had really hit home, or Calum had decided Cole was right remained to be seen. Regardless, he appreciated the gesture.
“I do. Now can you two fuck off out of here? I need a shower and some sleep. It’s going to be a long few days.”
Chapter 25
Millie awoke after an interrupted night of sleep to find daylight had broken. She stared at the door. The chair—her security blanket—remained in place. With a frown, she got out of bed and, after removing the chair, opened the door, hoping it didn’t make a noise and alert Tanner. She wanted to assess the situation first, gauge his mood. He certainly wasn’t behaving as she’d expected, and that made her twitchy. Then again, she wasn’t behaving as he would have expected either.
She crept down the stairs, being extra careful to avoid the second to last stair which had a terrible creak. She peered around the living room door. He wasn’t there. She tiptoed down the hallway toward the kitchen. Also empty. Her heart thundered, like a teenager in a B-movie horror flick who’d gone looking for the bad guy. She sneaked back upstairs. The door to Tanner’s bedroom—she refused to think of it as theirs—was ajar. She eased it open a few inches and poked her head inside. The bed had been slept in, although not made. She doubted Tanner had ever made a bed in his entire life. Still no sign of Tanner.
There was only one other room to check. The bathroom. He wasn’t in there either. That could mean only one thing: she was alone.
She sighed with relief. At least she could shower and dress in peace, and then get something to eat. It was coming up on twenty-four hours since she’d had any food, and she was feeling weak and light-headed.
She went back downstairs, not bothering to be quiet now she knew Tanner wasn’t around. Then an idea came to her, rocketing her excitement. She could text Cole. A quick note, nothing more, to let him know she was okay. He’d be going out of his mind with worry.
She dug around in her purse for her cell phone. It wasn’t there. She distinctly remembered returning it to her purse when she’d gotten on the plane, because she’d had to turn it off.
And then her jaw tightened. Tanner. The bastard. He was always one step ahead. Stupid, stupid, Millie. You should have taken your purse upstairs last night.
She stomped into the kitchen, and that was when she saw the note propped up against the toaster.
Gone out. Don’t do anything stupid, otherwise I’ll get trigger happy on that video. I’ve got your cell. You can spend the day moving your gear back into our room.
She screamed in frustration and kicked out, putting a scratch on one of the kitchen cabinets. Hell would freeze over before she lay down beside that bastard again. She would never give in or submit to Tanner’s will. But despite her boldness and her determination to defy Tanner at every turn, a niggle of anxiety grew in her abdomen.
Dear God, please give me the strength to survive this.
* * *
Tanner didn’t come home all day. But he would, and when he did, she’d be ready for him. She used the time to ransack the entire house looking for any copies he’d made of the video but came up empty. After hours of searching, she wandered into the living room and, in an act of defiance, threw herself into Tanner’s tacky leather chair.
Ouch!
Something had poked at her. She picked up the cushion and felt around. She touched a hard object. She unzipped the cover and dipped her hand inside. Her fingers closed around a thin, oblong object. She took it out.
It was a memory stick. Oh my God. There was only one reason Tanner would have hidden it. The video of Cole hitting that guy. Her heart pounded, and she slipped it into her pocket and zipped the cushion cover back up. She stood and rearranged it back to how it had been previously. One down, Tanner. One down. Energized, she resumed her search with enthusiasm, but to no avail.
Not that she’d expected it to be so easy—Tanner was a cruel man, not a stupid one—but she’d had some success and she would keep at it. She still needed to work on her original plan. Tanner had to give up on her. Putting an absolute end to their relationship, to make it his choice, was the only way. Without that, she and Cole would have the video hanging over them for the rest of their lives.
When a second day passed with no sign of Tanner, Millie began to wonder if something bad had happened—and, yes, even hoped that it had. As terrible as it was that Tanner could have been in an accident, laid up in the hospital or worse, that was what he’d driven her to. She loathed him enough to wish him dead and she refused to feel a shred of guilt for it.
But, as per usual, the second she began to foster a seed of hope, Tanner appeared. And he had company—three other guys were with him. He waltzed into the kitchen and dropped a crate of beer on the counter top.
“You remember the guys, right, babe?” He gave her a crooked grin as if everything in the garden was rosy, instead of stinking of trampled dog shit. “Now be a good girl and fetch us all a beer.” He pushed past to go into the living room, while she stood there silently seething.
Play it cool, Millie.
She unscrewed the tops off of four bottles and, holding two in each hand, followed him. The three guys were sprawled on the couch with Tanner in his chair, one foot crossed over the opposing knee, laced
fingers behind his neck. She handed a bottle to each of his friends and then took a long draw on the fourth while hovering by the entranceway.
Tanner glared at her, seething. “Where’s my fucking beer?”
“Sorry, babe,” she said, cheerfully, “Only got two hands.”
His friends chuckled while Millie nonchalantly picked at the label on her bottle. His jaw tightened, and his eyes flashed venom in her direction. She gave him an innocent stare, and a few seconds later, he stomped over to the kitchen, knocking her shoulder as he walked past her. She suppressed a triumphant grin. He’d better get used to her refusing to bow to him.
When he returned, beer in hand, he flopped into his chair. After a lazy eye sweep, his top lip curled. “What are you standing there for? Get upstairs and wait for me. I’ve got business to discuss.”
She gritted her teeth to stop something spilling out that she wouldn’t be able to take back. Embarrassing Tanner further in front of his friends wasn’t the right approach. She’d done it once. Best to keep switching her approach, to keep him off-kilter. The less predictable she was, the more confused he’d become.
“No problem.”
Slowly, she turned around until John, one of Tanner’s friends, snagged her arm, stopping her.
“How’s your mom doing now, Millie?”
She frowned. “My mom? She’s fine. Why do you ask?”
“Tanner said you’d been in New York taking care of her. That’s real nice of you. It’s good you’re back, though. Tanner has been like a bear with a sore head these last few months.” He laughed. “I’m not sure whether that’s coz he’s been missing you, or the constant travel back and forth to New York to get his little lady fix.”
She flashed a look at Tanner. So that was how he’d explained her absence. She raised an eyebrow. His expression dared her to contradict the tale he’d spun. The room was silent with a pregnant pause, the boys looking between her and Tanner, then she offered John a friendly smile.
“Yeah right, my mom. She’s much better now, thank you.”
“Good, good.”
He retracted his hand, which allowed her to leave.
She sat on the edge of the bed in the spare room—fuck Tanner and his orders—and racked her brains to try to come up with a way to move this along faster.
Hours passed and, eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep only to be woken by Tanner stumbling along the hallway. He bumped against the wall and cursed. He must be drunk. She stiffened her spine, her attention fixed on the door, waiting for him to burst in. The handle moved, but it wouldn’t go down because of the chair.
“Millie, open up before I break this goddamn door down,” he slurred.
Millie held her breath, fisting her hands in the sheets.
“Millie, I’m warning you.”
She scrambled out of bed. Her heart sped up, pumping adrenaline through her body. There was an almighty crash as Tanner put his shoulder into the door. The chair slipped out from underneath the handle, and Tanner staggered inside.
“Trying to keep me out, are you? As if you could, wife.” He sneered. “What the hell was that earlier? Trying to undermine me in front of my friends? Who the fuck do you think you are?” His hands fisted beside him, and he glared at her with hatred-filled eyes.
“Tanner, you’re drunk. Go to bed. We can talk in the morning.”
“I want to talk now!” He lost his balance and fell backward. He banged his head on the wall behind him.
“Fuck.” He rubbed it. “Now look what you made me do.”
When she stood firm but alert, his face crumpled. “Where’s my Millie, huh?” He held his arms out wide. “Come here, baby.”
She shook her head. “I told you, Tanner. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t want you. Please, just let me go home.”
His eyes hardened, and he took a menacing step forward. “You are fucking home, you stupid bitch.” He grabbed a handful of her hair, but despite it hurting like hell, she forced herself to stay calm. She couldn’t allow this to escalate.
“Is this what you’ve become, Tanner, huh?” she said, trying to keep her voice steady and even. “A wife beater?”
He dropped the fistful of her hair as though it had been set on fire. His eyes widened in horror. “No. God, no. I’m so sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you. I just want things back the way they were. Before you left. Before him.”
Before I found my spine, my self-respect, and my determination to escape, you mean.
“Go to bed, Tanner,” she repeated. “You’re drunk, and I’m tired.”
His shoulders sagged and, without saying another word, he turned around and left.
Calmly, Millie replaced the chair, and then her knees gave way. She collapsed onto the bed. Her palms were slick with sweat, and she wiped them on her pajamas.
Still shaking with adrenaline, she lifted her pillow. Underneath was the kitchen knife she’d stored there in case of a real emergency. That was the first time Tanner had ever been violent toward her. But then again, she’d never stood up to him before. If Cole was right, and Tanner became physically violent, did she have the guts to defend herself?
She put the pillow back in place and lay on her back, staring at a dark stain on the ceiling.
Stay with me, Cole. I’m working on it.
Chapter 26
Cole barely got three hours of sleep, but it gave him enough of an energy boost to at least be able to function. He swallowed two painkillers for his headache, drank three glasses of water, and wolfed down a sandwich. At least after consuming some food and liquids—of the non-alcoholic variety—he felt somewhat more human, although the minute he thought about Millie, he almost chucked the sandwich back up. He didn’t want to contemplate what she was going through, because when he did, he wanted to risk it all and tell Tanner to go fuck himself in the ass with a red-hot poker.
God, he missed her. He couldn’t stop his mind from replaying images of them together. On the boat, in his bed, that night in the bar when she’d told him she wanted him. And then when he’d pushed inside her for the very first time…
This plan of his and Draven’s had to work. The saying ‘caught between a rock and a hard place’ had never resonated so much—or caused so much agony and soul-searching.
He got on the phone and started making calls. After an hour or so with no luck, Cole spoke with an ex-colleague who mentioned that a guy they’d both been in the cadets with, a Luke Harris, now worked at Chicago PD. Cole trawled through social media and managed to locate him. A couple more phone calls, and he had a number.
Ten minutes later he cut the call. Luke had promised to do some digging and get back to Cole if he found anything. Tanner didn’t have a criminal record, so if he was involved in anything illegal, he’d avoided getting caught so far. However, if there were any rumors, Luke vowed he’d get to the bottom of them.
Almost immediately, his cell rang. Draven.
“Found out anything?” Cole asked.
“Yep. You at home?”
“Yes.”
“On my way.”
When Draven turned up, he helped himself to a beer from the fridge, but when he offered Cole one, his stomach lurched. He shook his head.
“What’ve you got?”
Draven took a long pull from the bottle. “You said Tanner Fuckhead was a football coach, right?”
Cole nodded. “I did.”
“And he’s not the big guy you said, right? The head honcho kind of coach?”
“No. From the very few things Millie said, he’s pretty junior. I think they keep him around more because he fucked up his knee on their watch. Why?”
Draven slipped his phone from his inside pocket, tapped the screen, then handed it to Cole. It was open on the website of a five-star hotel on Fifth Avenue.
“You think he can afford to stay there on his paycheck?” Draven said.
Cole’s eyes widened in surprise. “That’s where he was staying when he was in New
York?”
Draven nodded. “Wanna know what I think?”
Cole didn’t need him to share, because he’d already guessed the answer. “Drugs, or maybe given his sports career, steroids.”
“Yep. I bet the slimy bastard is dealing juice to the young kids. Selling them the dream. Get bigger, stronger, jump ahead of the competition, yada yada.”
“That’s fucked up,” Cole said.
“No, that’s Fuck Head.” Draven grinned.
Cole managed a faint smile. “In other news, I found a contact in Chicago. As it happens, I was in the cadets with the guy. He’s a detective now, which works in our favor. He’s agreed to poke around, see what he can dig up.”
“Excellent.” Draven stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Is he clean?”
Cole frowned. “As I recall, he was a bit of a rebel. I was pretty surprised when I heard he’d made detective. He must have cleaned up his act.”
“Here’s hoping he’s not scrubbed himself too clean.” Draven lumbered to his feet. “Let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Draven threw his arms out wide. “Where else? Chicago.”
* * *
Luke clapped Cole on the shoulder and then vigorously shook his hand. “You haven’t changed a bit,” he said. “What’s it been, six, seven years?”
“Something like that.” Cole gestured to Draven. “This is my partner, Draven. Don’t let his size put you off. He’s a pussycat.”
“Bullshit,” Draven boomed, shaking Luke’s hand.
Cole suppressed a chuckle when Luke winced.
“I know it was only yesterday when we spoke, but have you managed to find out anything at all?” Cole asked.
“I have.” He gestured at a couple of chairs. “Sit down, and I’ll fill you in on what I’ve managed to glean so far.”
They both took a seat, and Luke continued. “As I suspected, Tanner isn’t known to us at all. No criminal record, not even the hint of an arrest. However, I spoke to one of my informants, and he gave me a lead. It’s by no means solid, but the rumors are that he’s selling steroids to young kids desperate for a football career.”
His to Protect: A Brook Brothers Novel Page 19
