Hard Pack (Ridden Hard Book 2)

by Allyson Lindt

  He needed a break from all of this. And to talk. Not to Mischa. Tristan was still upset about that conversation, and annoyed at the part of him that said he was in the wrong.

  Tristan needed a casual, normal conversation, with someone who wouldn’t pick apart his every word. He grabbed his phone and dialed his sister.

  “Hello.” Trina sounded happy when she answered.

  Perfect. “Hey, stranger. You busy?”

  “Nope. What’s up?”

  “I, um, I’m not sure how to put this.” What was he doing? This wasn’t what he called for. He was about to spill the news about the baby. How stupid was that? Except fuck if he wasn’t itching to tell someone who would be as happy about it as he was.

  “What’s going on? Are you all right? Are Mom and Dad all right?” The concern in her voice crept toward panic.

  He laughed. At least melodramatic ran in the family. “Everyone’s fine. You’re going to be an aunt.”

  “That’s awesome. How?”

  “Please don’t make me explain to you where babies come from. Not a second time.” Talk about awkward conversations. Telling his little sister where babies came from, because she refused to ask Mom and Dad.

  Her giggle was pleasant. “I mean, I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

  “I wasn’t. It was...” He wasn’t prepared to get into this kind of detail. “It’s a long story. Some day we’ll sit and have coffee and maybe I’ll tell you the whole thing.”

  “Okay. Who’s the mother? Does she know?” Trina teased.

  Yup. This was exactly the conversation he needed. “You’re in top smartass form today. Her name is Victoria Small. I don’t think you’ve ever met her.”

  “As in, Vicky Next Door? Wasn’t she dating Mischa?”

  Of course she knew how Vicky was. Tristan should have thought of that. Every girl Trina’s age watched that show. “Years ago.” He winced as his irritation slipped out.

  “Okay. Well, Congratulations. When’s the baby due? I want to be there. So amazing.”

  “Can you get the time off work?” Tristan asked. Maybe he shouldn’t have made this call. He didn’t know how to tell her seeing the baby right away might not be an option. Because discovery and criminal investigation.

  “I don’t think that’ll be an issue.” Trina sounded odd.

  “Why do you sound like that?”

  “I lost my job.”

  “What? Why?” He’d wanted a distraction, but not this. Trina was the best at her job. Okay, so he was a little biased, but she was a damn good IT person anyway.

  “They said I was too friendly with a client during the Ride & Surf install. Said I was fraternizing.”

  They fired her for dating someone who worked for one of their clients? That seemed a bit severe. “Bullshit. I’ll put you in touch with an employment attorney. Don’t worry about the cost, I’ve got you covered. They can’t fire you for that.”

  She sighed. “They can if it’s true.”

  “So you hooked up with someone on Spencer’s staff? Who the fuck cares as long as they don’t have an impact on your work?” He let his indignation and irritation with unreasonable people flow, directing it at her situation.

  “That’s not quite what happened.” And there was that catch in her voice again.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And I don’t know why not. You’re usually more observant than that,” she teased. “It wasn’t just someone on his staff. I was sleeping with the boss.”

  “I... Oh.” The boss was Spencer. Did she say sleeping with? She was fucking his friend? “Oh, fuck. You’re a third his age.” Not the most intelligent thing he could have said.

  “Thanks for the math help, Pythagoras. It doesn’t matter, because we broke up. Besides, last time I checked, Victoria Small was the same age as me.”

  Breaking up didn’t make it better. Spencer screwed his sister, and then dumped her? “But she’s—”

  “She’s what?” Trina sounded irritated. “More mature than me? You’re a better guy than Spencer?”

  “I’m trying to look out for you. There are things you don’t know about Spencer.”

  “Like what? Because he and I talked a lot when we were together, and I’d guess there are things you don’t know about him, either.”

  Apparently there were things Tristan had missed about both of his friends. First the argument with Mischa and now this. “He’s not good enough for you.” The protest tasted weak.

  “First of all, fuck you. You don’t get to say who I do and don’t date. Second, he’s your best friend. He’s been by your side since you were children, and he never betrayed you. Did he?”

  “No, but—”

  “But what? Tell me what this big secret is that I don’t know, that could crush me, if he and I were to stay together.”

  “It’s not as though there’s any one thing.” Tristan was kind of a crappy friend.

  “How about this. If you don’t think he’s good enough, you’ll never approve of anyone.

  That was true. No one was good enough for his sister. Except... “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  He wrapped up the call with Trina, making sure she was doing all right, but he couldn’t shake the conversation out of his head. The moment he disconnected, he dialed Spencer.

  “Yeah.” Spencer’s tone was flat.

  “Am I a shitty friend?”

  Spencer gave a short laugh, then paused. “Wow. You’re serious.”

  Okay, so that was a bad sigh. “Yes.”

  “Are you drunk?” Spencer asked.

  Not funny. “It’s two in the afternoon.”

  “And? It’s the weekend. Maybe you’ve loosened up over time.”

  “Forget it.” Tristan moved to disconnect.

  “No.” The edge in Spencer’s voice stopped him. “You don’t call and ask a question like that, then hang up. Unless you’re ten.”

  “Did I ever do that when I was ten?”

  “If you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation now. Or maybe we would have, because I wouldn’t have told you back then.”

  The meaning sank in, and Tristan slumped back in his chair. “So, short answer is yes?”

  “When was the last time we talked?” Spencer asked.

  Odd question. “When you closed on the building. Early January.”

  “Like actually talked. You were so involved in your own world when you were here, you didn’t even notice—”

  Tristan mentally groaned, as more pieces clicked. Showing up at Trina’s on New Year’s Eve. That dress. Spencer being there. “That you were fucking my sister.”

  “Not then I wasn’t. So you did notice.”

  “No. She told me. I can’t believe I didn’t see that.” Like he never stopped to consider Mischa’s side of things. How involved was he in his own world?

  Spencer made a clucking noise. “I’m not going to say shitty, I’m going with driven.”

  “Cause versus effect.”

  “Basically,” Spencer said. “What brought this on?”

  Tristan gave him a brief rundown of the argument with Mischa.

  “I always wondered if you two would break up.”

  “Ha.” Tristan didn’t want to be amused by the jab, but it was better than wallowing. “Seriously though, I’m sorry if I’ve been a shit.”

  “Eh. I got over it.” Spencer sounded sincere. “You should probably kiss and make up with your boyfriend though.”

  “Still not funny.” Tristan didn’t mind the jab, though.

  Spencer laughed. “It’ll always be funny.” There was a pause. “Wait. Did you say Wolfram? Like Ralph Wolfram? The investor?”

  “That’s him.” Tristan tucked revelations aside. He’d apologize to Mischa soon, but Spencer’s question had his attention.

  “I talked to him a couple of years ago,” Spencer said.

  “You never mentioned that.” Though, given what they’d just discussed, Tristan wasn’t surprised.


  “The guy was an asshole. Oozed slime. Besides the gut feeling, though, he had some actual bad data in his background. If I’d had any idea Mischa was signing with him, I would’ve warned you.”

  Too late for that. “Bad data like what?”

  “Everything looked like it was square on the surface, but when I dug deeper, things stopped adding up. Dates didn’t match. Dollar figures were off. Nothing to trigger red flags in an automated system. Everything was within reasonable tolerances, but it also followed a pattern.”

  Which all matched up with what Ash had said, and tied back to what Ralph mentioned with the mismatched dates on the donations.

  “I should mention, I’m not supposed to tell you any of this,” Spencer said. “I signed an NDA. I didn’t have enough access to his records to track down proof, but it was enough circumstantial for me to tell him no thanks.”

  “Sounds familiar.” Tristan’s mind whirred over the information. It wasn’t new, but it made some pieces click differently. It formed a new angle on the situation. “How are you liking the new building?” The shift to small talk would let his brain process while they chatted.

  “It’s good.”

  “How’s Trina?”

  There was a pause before Spencer said, “Brilliant at her job. She’s got a long career ahead of her in her industry.”

  Tristan should still be upset at the hook-up, but Trina made some good points. Just like Mischa had. “You remember I said I already talked to her.”

  “Then you probably know more than I do.” Spencer’s tone had cooled.

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” Did he mean that? Yeah, he did. He wanted the best for his sister, and Spencer had always been a good friend and person.

  “You’re serious?”

  Tristan rolled his eyes. “You keep saying that. Have you ever known me to be anything else? But yes. If it had worked out, the two of you would’ve been good together.”

  “Despite the age difference and the what will people say factor?”

  “Yes. And I swear to God if you say you’re serious one more time...”

  Spencer chuckled. “In that case, thanks. Not that I think she has to ask you, but it’s nice to know if it had happened, she wouldn’t have to cut you out of your life.”

  Tristan was grateful for that too. The thought was jarring. He’d thought for so long that he knew what family and friendship were, and the last month had turned his perception on its head. In a good way.

  As he hung up, Spencer’s comment about what will people say kept bouncing in his head. That notion had driven Tristan for so long. Even as a kid. Sure, he boarded because he loved the sport, and he wanted to be the best, but would he have pushed after that silver, if it weren’t for his coach’s disappointment? Would he have taken himself out of the spot entirely, injuring his leg?

  So many what if’s, and he couldn’t dwell on those. What he could do was make sure he didn’t add to the list.

  He pulled out the information Ralph had sent him, along with all the documentation Tristan had about the donation. Not just the final sale, but every time money or contracts changed hands.

  He’d looked at it all before, but Ash’s and Spencer’s revelations had shifted his perspective.

  A photocopy of a check caught his attention. Maybe he hadn’t looked at it all before. It was the check that Mischa handed over, to pay off the loan. It was dated December first.

  Tristan frowned. That wasn’t right. They’d finalized the deal in November. Why didn’t he notice that before?

  Because there was no reason to dig that deep on details. The check had been drawn from the firm’s account, to avoid one more complication of funds transfers. He logged into the online banking, and opened their digital copy of the payment.

  It matched what Wolfram had sent.

  “No, no, no.” He spoke to the empty room. Not possible. He wasn’t remembering wrong by an entire month. Not something so recent, with so many moving parts.

  He turned to the file cabinet with printouts of last year’s records. Mischa had teased him about keeping photocopies of everything, especially checks that were going to be digitally tracked.

  Tristan did it anyway. And there it was. The scan he’d done of the payment, before they handed it to Wolfram. It was dated November first. Just like be remembered, and contrary to the documents in front of him.

  That couldn’t be right. It would mean Wolfram wasn’t just exploiting a handful of loopholes beyond their legal limit. This was forgery.

  But there were stories that floated around in real estate circles. Times Wolfram foreclosed for payments that arrived just a few days late. Checks people swore had been sent on time.

  No one ever listened to stories like that. The general consensus was, if a person couldn’t pay their loans, of course they were blaming their bookkeeping on someone else.

  Tristan yanked more folders from their spots. One for every check they’d ever sent Ralph Wolfram, and compared each to the online bank records. Most of them matched, but a couple were dated a few days differently.

  The fuck?

  He scanned his hard copies, took the images from online, and stuck it all in a secured PDF that he emailed to Christian.

  His phone rang about two minutes later.

  “Is this real?” Christian asked, by way of greeting.

  “Yup.”

  “Fuck me. And you have hard copies.”

  Tristan snorted. “You’re really asking me that?”

  “Sometimes, it’s a pleasure working with you.” Christian chuckled. “Hell, I might even waive the double weekend billing for this.”

  “Considering how much legwork I just saved you?”

  “I’ll write up a request for injunction this weekend,” Christian said. “File it first thing Monday morning, and get the IRS off your backs while this is investigated. Hell, I’ll wait on the courthouse steps until they open, to make sure this is done a-sap.”

  “Thanks.” For the first time in weeks, Tristan felt a sense of relief around the looming case. He wasn’t done digging though. The foreclosure cases were public record, and while he wouldn’t have access to anything not submitted to the court, he could look for patterns.

  Tristan dove head first down the rabbit hole of court documents surrounding Ralph Wolfram’s dealings.

  He called Victoria, but wasn’t surprised when he went to voicemail. “I think I have something. Information-wise. I wanted to let you know. And I want to talk.” Just to see her. “We can keep it strictly business, if you prefer.”

  He hung up, unsure if she would call him back. He could taste how close he was with a resolution to the IRS issue, but could he make things right with her?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  VICTORIA WAS GRATEFUL for Ash’s company, but when the other woman left, she was alone with her thoughts again.

  She hated this decision to not see Tristan anymore. It was true, jobs and careers and personal freedom were on the line.

  But with the shock and emotion of her suspension faded, she wondered if they’d acted rashly. She’d sworn she wouldn’t let public opinion drive her ever again. That rumors would never control her life the way they had in the past.

  Was she going to hurt other people though? The charity did good work. It didn’t deserve to crumble. Neither did Tristan’s firm.

  Did her staying away from Tristan change any of that?

  Damn it, she missed him.

  Sitting here wasn’t giving her solutions, and she couldn’t sleep. Maybe a drive would help clear her head.

  It was almost eleven on a Saturday night. The farther she got from downtown, the less traffic she saw.

  She didn’t realize she was heading toward the real estate firm until she turned down the street it was on. She might have ended up here by mistake, but she knew that wasn’t true.

  Maybe she’d drive by his house next—torture herself a little more. Hell, if she was feeling like going full stalker, she’d figure out wher
e this condo of his was, that he kept for social gatherings, and check it out now.

  His car was in the parking lot. The Subaru hatchback with all the bells and whistles. Her heart lodged in her throat. It jammed tighter when she saw a single light on in the building, coming from his office.

  She needed to keep driving, but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to do this alone. Parenthood. Life.

  Sure, she could, but she didn’t have to. Tristan would stand by her. There was no doubt in her mind. And things would be a lot easier to figure things out with him than it would be without him.

  Victoria parked her car next to his, and reached for her phone to call him. She came up empty-handed as she searched through her purse. This whole thing had her so distracted she’d left it at home.

  She picked through the snow along the narrow path surrounding the building, and approached his office window.

  His head was bent, his attention focused on his screen.

  She tapped on the glass, and his head flew up, his eyes wide. He squinted, then focused on her. A smile spread across his face, and her world start to right itself. He held up an index finger, and walked from the room.

  She scurried to meet him at the front door. He arrived seconds after she did, flipped the lock open, and pushed the door open.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  She didn’t have the right words. She threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him hard. It knocked them both off balance, but they recovered, and stumbled back into the building.

  When he hugged her tight, and crushed his mouth to hers, the broken pieces inside her slid back into place.

  He broke away with a gasp, search her eyes. “We need to talk.” His voice was gravel.

  “We do, but let me go first, please? Or I might chicken out.”

  TRISTAN WAS SURPRISED at how late it was, but that took a back seat to Victoria being here. He wanted to tell her what he’d found. That everything would be all right. That he loved her.

  But he would hear her out first, because she asked. Unless it was another we can’t be together speech. Given the way she lingered in his arms, he doubted that was the case.