by Shelly Bell
Finn dropped into a chair. “If we’re being honest, I was willing to let you hang until Dreama dropped the biology bomb on me.”
“Really?” Ryder glared at Finn as he and Cash both joined Finn at the table. “You couldn’t just keep that to yourself for now?”
Finn shrugged. “I don’t want to start our relationship off with a lie.”
Ryder and Finn might not look alike, but the fact that they were brothers was apparent in the way they interacted with one another. If he didn’t have Rebecca, Cash might have been envious of their relationship.
Cash drummed his fingers on the table and glanced out the window. “Amusing as this is, I’m tired. I just want to go home, eat a pizza, and watch a little television.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Ryder said, adding a couple packets of sugar to his coffee. “You’re full of crap, but it sounds good just the same.”
“You don’t know me,” Cash said, annoyed by Ryder’s assumption.
Ryder lifted his coffee cup off the table but didn’t drink it. “First, Dreama has told us all about you. I highly doubt that a guy who’s spent the last couple of weeks looking into his past is going to give up now that everything has hit the fan.” Ryder smiled smugly. “And if you’re anything like us, you’re going to leave here and go confront the son of a bitch you think is responsible for the murders. You might not want us as brothers, but that doesn’t mean you’re not one of us anyway.”
Damn it. Ryder was right. Not about him being one of them, but about everything else. “Okay. What if you’re right about my plan. Are you going to try and stop me?” he asked both of them.
“Hell no. You need backup,” Finn said. “Oh, and someone who can legally carry a gun.”
Finn had a point. The terms of Cash’s parole prohibited him from having a gun. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to work with Ryder and Finn to bring down the killer. They’d been helping him these last two weeks anyway.
“You would do that for a complete stranger?” he asked.
“You’re not a stranger,” Ryder said as if Cash was an idiot. “You’re family. But even if you weren’t, Dreama is like a sister to Jane and for all intents and purposes, that makes you my brother-in-law.”
Hearing Dreama’s name brought all of his guilt and regret back to the surface. “Well, I doubt Dreama would care whether you helped me. We broke up.”
“Judging by the tears on her face as she left the police station, I’m assuming you’re the one who broke it off,” Finn said matter-of-factly.
How could he act so cavalier about Dreama’s pain? “What if I did?” Cash asked.
Ryder stood, put both hands on the table, and leaned forward, getting in Cash’s face. “Then you’re a fucking idiot. You don’t throw a woman like Dreama away.”
Finn flinched. “Ryder, it’s not our place to—”
“The hell it isn’t,” Ryder said, not taking his eyes off Cash. “It’s terrifying to love a person so much you want to lock them up in a padded room and throw away the key to keep them safe. But you can’t cheat death, so don’t even try. It’s no way to live. Don’t underestimate Dreama.”
“You’re saying she can take care of herself.”
“Fuck no,” Ryder said so loudly that the people at the tables around them all stared. “You need to watch out for her. And she’ll watch out for you. That’s a relationship.” He lowered his voice. “That’s love.”
Was it? Normally, he might agree with the guy, but when it came to this fucked-up situation, he wasn’t as certain. Had he made the wrong call? He rose from his chair. “I should go.”
Finn stood and threw his arm around Cash’s neck. “Not without us, lover boy. Where to?”
Although the decision to find his biological family had been taken from him, he made the decision to accept his brothers’ help. He nodded to Ryder. “I need you to make a phone call.”
“Men are assholes,” Jane said around a mouthful of ice cream. Otis the pug sat at her feet, drooling as he waited for her to drop some food his way.
Dreama dipped her spoon into the creamy goodness but she just couldn’t manage to find her appetite. Is that what love did to a girl? Cash hadn’t only broken her heart. He’d stolen her ability to soothe her feelings with junk food. “Uh-huh.”
On the other hand, Jane couldn’t eat enough. But her combo of pork rinds, peanut butter, and chocolate chip ice cream wasn’t helping Dreama’s appetite either. “Not my Ryder, of course, but in general…yeah, they’re all assholes.”
In an hour, Dreama had gone from weepy to pissed off to wistful to numb and back again. “Cash isn’t an asshole. He’s just…”
“An asshole.” Jane remained firmly lodged in the pissed-off stage.
Dreama was going to say confused, but maybe Jane was right. Cash had bailed on their relationship the minute things had gotten hard. Well, harder.
“And scared,” Jane said, grabbing a handful of pork rinds from the bag. She tossed a couple of them to Otis before grinding them up with her hand and dropping them into the jar of peanut butter. “He’s afraid of losing you.”
Sighing, Dreama folded her arms on the table and rested her head on them. She knew exactly why Cash had done what he had. He was terrified that something would happen to her if she continued digging into his past. But instead of being honest and talking to her about it, he’d done what he considered to be the valiant thing. Well, fuck valiance. It was overrated. “Well, he sure picked a funny way of showing that since he lost me anyway.”
“But at least you’re alive,” Jane pointed out, eating a spoonful of peanut butter pork rinds.
What good was being alive when she wasn’t even living? She’d thought it had only been in the past year, since the assault and her subsequent anxiety attacks, that she’d been living in fear. But in truth, she’d never lived life to the fullest before meeting Cash. She’d never risked her heart.
She’d promised to stay at Jane’s. Wouldn’t it be a giant fuck you to Cash if she didn’t? A part of her wanted to rebel against Cash in the name of women everywhere. But there was a killer on the loose and she wasn’t suicidal. This was his idiotic way of protecting her. Because he loved her. She knew he did, no matter what lies he told her. She just wasn’t sure she could ever forgive him for breaking up with her.
Maddox’s babbles came through the baby monitor. “Mama Otes.”
Otis must have recognized his name. He ran off toward Maddox’s nursery. And speaking of dogs…
As much as Dreama would love to lavish all her affection on Maddox, she needed to let Butch outside before he had an accident. He was currently in his doggie crate in her bedroom.
Noticing Jane struggling, Dreama helped Jane get out of her chair. “I’m going to go pop home, pack a bag, and grab Butch.”
“You’re not supposed to leave,” she reminded Dreama.
Then maybe Cash shouldn’t have adopted a dog for her. He wouldn’t expect her to neglect Butch, right? She didn’t have a choice. “It’s the middle of the day. No one is going to come after me in the next thirty minutes.”
The second the words left her lips, it hit her. Her assault last year had occurred in the morning.
Bad things didn’t always happen at night.
Sometimes, monsters attacked in the light of day.
TWENTY-EIGHT
As much as Cash looked forward to getting to know his brothers, he didn’t need to see them naked on day one.
“Apparently, we have more in common than our eyes,” Ryder said with a smile, thankfully wrapping a towel around his lower half.
Finn shook his head at his brother. “Really? You couldn’t have kept that thought to yourself?”
“What?” Ryder laughed. “Like you weren’t thinking it too?”
A phone call by Ryder to Stephen Browner had led them to Detroit’s oldest and only bathhouse. Eager to nail down the McKay account, Browner had let Ryder know where to find him.
Browner was their strongest lead
into finding out the truth about Cash’s case eight years ago. While Cash still couldn’t prove that Browner was bribed into convincing Cash to take a guilty plea, there was at least enough evidence to suggest it and his gut told him Browner was the missing link to finding the person responsible for the murders of Cash’s coworkers. The plan he and his brothers had concocted was a Hail Mary pass. If Browner wouldn’t talk, or if Cash’s gut was wrong and Browner didn’t have any information to give, the killer could go free.
According to the attendant, Browner was waiting for Ryder in one of the steam rooms and had paid extra for privacy so that Ryder and he could talk business uninterrupted. It didn’t hurt that Browner would be caught unaware and without a weapon.
“You ready?” Cash asked them, ready to confront the son of a bitch who had ruined his life.
Knotting the towel at his waist, Finn nodded to Cash. “Lead the way.”
They walked down the hall to where the attendant had instructed they’d find Browner. At the door, Ryder peered through the small window to confirm Browner was alone. “He’s in there. I don’t see anyone else.”
Finn opened the door and Cash stepped inside. It was like entering the bowels of hell. Visible steam floated in the room like clouds and his skin immediately beaded with sweat. The next few minutes would be miserable.
But worth it.
Through the mist, Cash spied the man he’d come to see sitting on the wooden bench. “Excuse me, this room is reserved,” Browner said. His words were polite, but his tone was not. “You’ll have to use another one.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so, Browner,” Ryder said, coming into the room with Finn behind him. The door closed.
Browner stumbled to his feet, his towel slipping. “What the fuck is going on?”
Cash moved closer, getting a better glimpse at Browner. His hair was a much darker brown than it had been eight years ago. If Ryder hadn’t verified it was him, Cash would’ve never known who he was if he saw him on the street. In fact, he hadn’t known.
“I saw you,” Cash said, things coming together. “I was in the lobby of Lundquist Animal Health, waiting for Thomas to finish his previous appointment. You were that previous appointment.”
Cash had to hand it to him. Browner didn’t flinch. Then again, he was an experienced liar. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Cash wiped the sweat from his brow. “You had your phone up to your face to block my view and you were looking away. Your hair threw me off. Lundquist Animal Health is one of your clients, isn’t it?”
The dickhead had the audacity to puff out his chest. “I’m ethically bound from revealing the identity of my clients.”
“That’s a lie,” Finn said. “A client’s identity isn’t privileged information under the attorney-client privilege. Why don’t you try again?”
Browner huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ve represented Lundquist Animal Health on a few legal matters. So what?”
Were Lundquist and Browner working together to frame him? “You tried to set me up for my coworkers’ murders, but you messed up. I have an alibi.”
“Murder? You’re out of your mind.” Browner strode toward the exit. “I’m getting out of here.”
“I don’t think so,” Ryder said as he and Finn blocked the door. “Not until you finish answering our questions.”
Seeing he was trapped, Browner started to look a bit more nervous and returned to sit on the bench. “Fine. I’ll answer your damned questions.”
Having eaten nothing all day and losing about a gallon of water through his sweat, Cash felt a little dizzy on his feet. “Tell me about Laci London and Nancy Balsom. They were both beaten to death with a baseball bat.”
Browner shook his head. “I heard about it on the news, but I swear, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t know those women.”
Shit. Either he was a better liar than Cash thought or he was telling the truth.
“How long has Lundquist been your client?” Ryder asked, taking the questioning in another direction.
Not answering, Browner shifted on the bench.
“You know when he sues, we can subpoena your records,” Finn said. “If you help us out right now, maybe we won’t take all of your money.”
Finn had spoken the magic word. Money.
Browner swore under his breath. “Eight years.”
“How much did he pay you to ruin my life?” Cash asked, his fingers curling into the palms of his hands. It was a good thing Ryder and Finn were there to keep him from pummeling Browner’s face in. While it might feel satisfying, assaulting his ex-lawyer would be a return ticket to prison for a parole violation.
“He didn’t pay me anything.” Browner’s sweat continuously dripped off his chin. “He promised to provide me with some major accounts to help me get into the law firm of my choice.”
Even hearing Browner’s confession, Cash still couldn’t believe the man he’d considered a father had betrayed him. “And in return?”
“I had to bury your Breathalyzer and toxicology report and convince you to accept the plea deal,” Browner admitted.
Cash stumbled, the room spinning as if he was drunk. “Did he tell you why?”
Browner wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “Not in so many words. But it had something to do with some study results.”
“Study results,” Cash repeated.
A light flashed in front of his eyes as the floor seemed to tilt beneath his feet. His legs buckled and his knees slammed onto the hard surface. An intense pressure banded around his skull. He heard his brothers calling out to him, but he couldn’t respond. Memories flickered through his mind like an 8 mm film reel of his life and when he got to the end, he realized India had been right.
Once he’d been ready to face them, his repressed memories had returned.
Cold water spilled down his throat. Realizing his eyes were closed, he opened them and took stock of his location. He was lying on a couch in the locker room. From above him, Finn held the rim of a water bottle to his mouth. “Drink up. You passed out in the steam room.”
Grabbing the bottle, Cash sat up just as Ryder entered the room.
“We might have a problem,” Ryder said. “I just spoke with Jane. Dreama went to her apartment.”
Cash’s chest filled with dread.
He’d finally remembered everything from the night of the accident, but what good did it do him if he couldn’t keep Dreama safe? He should have never made her believe he was angry with her. He should’ve kept her by his side.
Because of him, Dreama was in danger.
He just prayed he got to her before it was too late.
Positioning her key between her fingers as a makeshift weapon, Dreama hurried through her apartment lobby to the elevator. She passed by the guard desk, a little surprised it was currently unmanned. It wasn’t uncommon—after all, they worked twelve-hour shifts and had to use the bathroom a couple of times a day—but it raised a red flag nonetheless. Until she was safe behind her locked door, she’d remain extra vigilant. Because despite what Cash believed, she could take care of herself.
Once on her floor, she eyed the hallway to ensure no one was lurking, and upon determining it all clear, she quickly unlocked her door, stepped inside, and slammed it shut. She slid to the carpet and closed her eyes, resting her chin on her knees.
She appreciated having Jane to comfort her, but at the same time, she needed space to mope alone. There were times a woman needed to ugly cry without an audience, and this was one of those times.
Cash loved her. He might not have said it, but he wouldn’t have broken things off with her if he didn’t. The stupid thing was if he’d only asked her to stay at Jane’s for a couple days until the real killer was caught, she would’ve done it. He hadn’t needed to lie to her. There was a reason she’d always been drawn to BDSM. The key principles of communication and consent were essential in every Dom/sub relationship. In Cash’s obsessive need to protect her, he’d violate
d both. It was ironic he’d accused her of acting like Maddie when he was the one who’d tried to manipulate her with his lies. She loved him, but until he learned that he couldn’t control her outside of the bedroom, she couldn’t be with him.
At the knock on the door, she snapped up her head. Cash. She got to her feet and peeked through the peephole. Disappointment swept through her. It wasn’t Cash.
She had never seen this man before in her life, but judging by his uniform, he was a police officer.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
He held up his badge. “I’m looking for Dreama Agosto. I’m here to get some more information from her regarding Cash Turner.”
She opened the door and waved him inside. “I’m Dreama. I’m not sure what else I can tell you, but you’re welcome to ask your questions.”
“Thank you. I promise not to take too much of your time,” he said, stepping into her apartment. As she closed the door, something sharp, like a bee sting, poked her neck. Rubbing the spot, she flipped around.
Gray-haired with wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, he looked like he could be friends with her father. He wasn’t more than a few inches taller than her and definitely skinnier. If she walked by him on the street, she wouldn’t look twice, and if he offered her candy, she wouldn’t hesitate.
But monsters came in all shapes and sizes. Hitler had been slightly shorter than the average height for a man and he’d been responsible for the murder of millions. The man who’d beaten her to within an inch of her life had been tall and beefy. Meg was shorter than herself and rail thin.
Judging by the baseball bat that was now in his hands, there was no mistaking that the man she’d invited inside her apartment was also a monster.
She tried to scream but her vocal cords weren’t working right. The noise that came out of her throat was too quiet to be heard by anyone. From within her purse, her cell phone was ringing.
