by S. L. Scott
Singer comes down another corridor and smiles at me. It’s not as happy as when we first met, but I’ll take it. Taking my hands in hers, she says, “I didn’t mean to react like I did. I’m so sorry for worrying you.”
“Worrying me? No, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“I know you didn’t. There’s a lot to tell, but it’s not the time. That’s history I can’t change.” She turns to their seating area—two large, deep blue couches face each other with light brown leather designer chairs anchoring them at either end. A wood table with uneven edges and prominent grain centers everything on top of an area rug. It’s such a nice balance between masculine and feminine, formal to comfort. “Please, sit. Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Wine?” I don’t even know what time it is, but it feels like a glass of white wine would treat me well about now.
“Sauvignon blanc?”
I appreciate the lack of judgment. “Perfect.”
“Bennett?”
“I’m good,” he replies.
Hutton and Ethan come in from the same hall where Singer had appeared. They stop talking when they move to sit. The brothers may tease Ethan about being the brains, but he does not lack in attractiveness. He and Singer make a stunning couple. As do Ally and Hutton.
I glance at Bennett, starting to feel a part of this family as well, wanting to be a part of them. Before I get too lost in that thought, Ethan says, “I think it’s obvious that there’s history when it comes to the McCoys and Everests.” I nod as if he asked me a direct question. He didn’t, but his green eyes focus on me. “The men chasing Bennett and you work for Kurt McCoy. Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“You currently don’t work for him in any capacity, correct?” Hutton asks.
“The word work is subjective.”
Ethan says, “Please explain.”
Singer hands me a wineglass and sits on the sofa next to her husband with a glass of sparkling water in hand. When his hand covers her thigh, the motion is one made of love and reacting to her without thought—on instinct. I’ve always found the small gestures of love more convincing than the grander acts. Those feel like they’re made for everyone else.
I take a quick sip, and then say, “I used to work for McCoy Industries, a smaller division of McCoy Properties. A bad decision to spite my family in many ways and because of them in other ways.” I continue to vomit my entire story, hoping to find relief afterward. “That bad decision was made worse by dating him. I know I shouldn’t have, but I’ll blame my age and how I thought I was smarter than my father at the time.”
Hutton says, “We’re all guilty of doing things we regret. What about after? You didn’t cut ties?”
“In business, yes, but personally, he dragged me along for another six months.”
Singer’s voice is soft when she asks, “What do you mean he dragged you?”
The cut gets deeper and I can’t stop the words from bleeding. “He had something on me—information about my father’s company—and I thought that was what drove him. But then it was as if he lost sight of his initial goal.”
“Which was?” Bennett asks.
“Me. He got engaged, but he became obsessed with me. He claimed to love her, but still pursued me. It was as if he wanted a fiancée but believed he had no reason to let go of me. I wanted nothing to do with him, and with every rejection, he came on stronger until he had what he needed to reel me back in.” I take a gulp of my wine and then another, needing to numb some of these harsher truths. “I did everything to make my dad proud of me, to see me not as his daughter but as an equal to my brother. Kurt diminished all hope of that when he blackmailed me into being his whore.” I finish my wine and cross my legs, defiant in their unreadable stares.
Bennett gets up and leans toward me. The sun rises and sets in his warm sunshine eyes. “Don’t close down. You’re not on the stand,” he whispers.
I accept his words, though it’s hard not to react the way I’ve trained myself to. He leans back but continues to rub my knee. “How long did that go on?”
“Six months. He lauded the information on my family’s company over my head the entire time. He became physically abusive as if the emotional abuse wasn’t damaging enough. When I stood up to him, I should have known he’d never let me walk away that easily.” I’d been terrified, having no clue what he was capable of. Now it’s too late.
“What happened?” Singer asks.
“He made his first move—a hostile takeover of my family’s company. It was all my father had left. My brother invested his trust fund. Kurt was going to take it from them because of me. If I had never worked for him, Kurt wouldn’t have the ammo. I basically handed him the keys to my family’s legacy.”
Bennett turns to his brothers, and says, “She worked in dock rights, shipping, and cargo holds,” as if that says everything.
Ethan sighs heavily and rubs his temple. “I see. Same as Nobleman.”
“What is it?” I ask, missing the connection.
Bennett replies for him. “Kurt McCoy’s cousin tried to kill Singer and Ethan.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to talk about that,” Singer snaps. No wonder she reacted the way she did at Bennett’s. How can they even look at me? His cousin tried to murder them? Oh God.
Her husband wraps his arm around her. “We knew Kurt was running the company, but we didn’t know the extent that he was following in his cousin’s footsteps. We should have.”
Hutton says, “I don’t understand how you ended up working for him again. Do you mind explaining?”
“Kurt had been calling me for months. I finally took the call and begged him to show my family mercy. He told me to meet him for dinner. I saw it as an opportunity to plead in person.” Worried to look Bennett in the eyes, I stare at the empty wineglass instead. “We had dinner and drinks, but by the time dessert was served, I wasn’t feeling well.”
Bennett stands, distressed—hands flexing, jaw clenching, and anxiety coursing through his muscles as he begins to pace, unable to stay still. “He drugged you.”
I vaguely notice Hutton and Ethan, their reactions lost as I look at Bennett. He’s so angry on my behalf, but I can’t have him set out on a mission of revenge. “And then I woke up in Paris,” I say, leaving out the in between.
“Drugged and kidnapped.” His hands are fisted, his brown eyes burning, with anger. He mutters under his breath, “Motherfucker.”
I stand and go to him. “I’m okay.” I run the tips of my fingers down his arms until I meet his tight hands. I keep his eyes on me as I gently wedge my fingertips into his palms until he releases and weaves his fingers with mine. He looks away, redirecting his anger toward a painting on the wall. “Look at me,” I say so softly, carefully. “Please, Bennett.”
When he does, he says, “I want to kill him.”
25
Winter
Fury fuels the fire in his eyes. “They’re evil. The McCoys sold their souls to the devil a long time ago.”
“There’s more I need to tell you,” I say, leaning my head against him.
Tilting back up, I rest my chin on his chest. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“I’m fine. Nothing’s going to happen.” He takes a step back, calmer for the time being. When he sits, I do, too.
“Ben?” Hutton asks.
Turning toward his brother, he’s annoyed. “I’m fine.”
They hold each other’s hard stare until Hutton seems appeased. “All right.” Hutton redirects to me. “I’m not surprised that happened to you since we’re dealing with a McCoy, but I’m sorry about it. Are you okay?”
I managed to bring these horrible people back into their lives, and they’re checking on my well-being. Their kindness knows has no limits. “I’m, uh. I’m fine. Thank you.”
“That’s good,” he replies. “Do you know why he kidnapped you?”
My hands start shaking from the memory, K
urt’s bloodthirsty gaze coming back as if I can see him before me now. I sit on my hands, but my voice trembles still giving me away. “When I woke up in Paris, he told me he was collecting the debt I owed him.”
“What’s the debt?” Bennett asks.
“My life. He said he owned me, and I had to do what he told me to earn back my freedom. It wasn’t threatening my life that scared me. Ultimately, I’m the one to blame for walking into his office in the first place, so my dirty deeds were always meant to catch up with me.” My gaze pivots around the room at each of them as shame flourishes inside me. “I was used as bait.”
Her voice wobbles on fear, but Singer still asks, “What were you supposed to catch?” She knows the answer, the tears welling in her eyes gives her away.
“I didn’t know until it was too late. I swear I didn’t.” I shift uncomfortably in their spotlight. “I was told not to do anything out of the ordinary and live a regular life.”
Ethan asks, “Why wouldn’t he take your passport?”
“He took everything else of mine but gave me a copy. Until I tried to make a purchase and was denied for not having the original ID on me. Suddenly, my passport appeared on my vanity.”
Singer says, “He trusted you?”
“I tried to escape once, but a threat and a gun was all it took to convince me otherwise. I was set up with an apartment, a phone, a credit card, anything I needed, except the freedom to leave Paris.”
The first week is still stuck under my skin—the quiet, the anger, the fear, the daily reminders of my incarceration—like a virus I can’t cure.
Singer looks at her husband. “How would that bait someone?”
Bennett sighs. “I fell right for it.” I take a breath when the attention is off me. “Her father is the key,” he repeats from before. “He’s the one who got me to find her, claiming he was worried.”
“He wasn’t worried,” I say. I can’t seem to force myself to say the obvious.
Bennett does instead. “Your father is working for or with McCoy and set us up.”
Although we were leading to this conclusion before, hearing it makes me feel sick again. As if I didn’t hurt enough, my father and brother land another punch to my heart. Bennett kneels in front of me. With his hands on my knees, he whispers, “There are worse outcomes than finding someone you care about. It doesn’t make things better, but we win, Winter, because we have each other.”
My head falls to his shoulder as I embrace this man. He’s right. “We win.” This is true freedom. The murmuring around us comes to a stop when I lift my head. “I knew he was evil. I just didn’t know how much. It’s good to know where I stand.”
Singer comes over and sits next to me, and Bennett takes the other side of me on the couch. She wraps her arm around my shoulders, and says, “Family is found in the ones who love you.” I see her glance at Bennett and send the smallest of understanding smiles. “You are loved.” She leaves it at that.
I cover her hand with mine. “Thank you.” She stays while I wipe under my eyes. Catching Bennett’s eyes, I say, “I never feared for my life, but I do fear for yours. The last time I saw Kurt was when I returned to my apartment after I left you. Kurt was waiting for me. He told me I had done a good job. I was confused since I hadn’t actually done anything in Paris.”
“You lured me right in,” Bennett says.
“My father sent you.”
“Same thing. They’re working together and I fell for it.”
“I still don’t understand what he meant by collecting.”
“What are you talking about? What was he collecting?” Bennett asks.
I bite my lip and then brace myself before saying, “Everests. He told me he was collecting Everests.” I suck in a breath before I realize that they’re all just staring at each other, speaking their own language through exchanged looks.
Singer breaks the silence, and asks, “But why?”
Ethan stands and walks to the window. With his hands in his pockets, his voice is scarily composed. “If I would have never started this damn company—”
Singer stands and goes to her husband. “You would have never met me.” Wrapping her arms around his middle, she rests her cheek on his back.
Hutton adds, “And I would have never had a second chance with Ally.”
When Ethan turns around, his arms wrap around Singer. “He’s collecting us to avenge his cousin. How long ago did you work for McCoy Industries?”
“Two years ago.”
“That doesn’t add up,” he replies. He begins to pace behind the sofa, running his hand over his chin, reminding me so much of Bennett.
Hutton retreats behind the other sofa, matching his brother’s pace. “He had enough information to takeover Nobleman Inc. from what it sounds like. Winter was already gone from the company and they had been long broken up, so why would he get her involved?”
When Bennett stands, he says, “To get to me. I’m the easiest target.”
I bolt up. “We had already met and had sex by the time he first mentioned the Everest name though. Ughhhh,” I groan, remembering my audience. I wave my hand in the air, hoping to erase the last part from their brains. I make the mistake of looking at Singer for support, but she just smiles. I roll my eyes, and say, “For Pete’s sake. We slept together. Remember, I’m a whore, so this shouldn’t come as a surprise.”
No humor is found in the room, and Singer’s smile is gone. Trying to hide how I really feel about myself in the shell of a joke is a defense mechanism. They’re not fooled, especially not Bennett. Disappointment may be displayed on his face, but it’s hurt I see in his eyes.
That’s when I realize his brothers have stopped pacing. Bennett finally speaks, “Don’t do that.”
I turn to him with a lump in my throat, keeping me from speaking. My eyes must speak volumes because he replies, “You’re not a whore because you slept with me, so don’t belittle what we did. That whore business is caught up in your head. Assholes put that there. People who want to hurt you. I’m not one of them, so don’t treat me like I am.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m going to take that apology, but from this moment on, cut that shit out.”
“Okay.” My answer is quick, maybe too quick, but when we speak from the heart, it’s best.
Gently touching my chin, he angles my face to the side. “He hit you, potentially wants you dead, and he’s collecting Everests for revenge.” Bennett wraps his arm around my waist, and we face the others—together. Together. I don’t think I’ve ever had someone so determined to not only stand by my side but also defend it. “All McCoys are dangerous, and if it comes down to us against them, we’ll win.”
I think back to the night I was determined to right a wrong. “I thought I’d be a hero. Instead, I was his pawn.” As much as this hurts to remember, I have to continue for Bennett. I owe him, and all of them, the whole story. “My father told me he was given forty-eight hours to sell his company to the McCoys for bottom dollar, or they’d expose everything illegal Nobleman had done to stay afloat. Kurt and I had a toxic past, but he was determined to destroy my future, too. I still believed I would work at the company one day; that I would inherit it with my brother.”
I meet Hutton’s eyes. Again, there’s no judgment on his face or any of theirs, but the tension is rising. I can feel it lashing at my insides. Bennett shakes his head. “It was a setup. Why would your father suddenly come to you to tell you this information, especially considering you weren’t working there, and he knew of your past with McCoy. Your father and brother teamed up with Kurt, trading you for the company.”
I don’t feel sick anymore. I’m numb as the puzzle comes together. “Kurt had me meet him at one of my brother’s favorite restaurants in Kip’s Bay. Good food, but a dive. I should have made the connection.”
“A place you go not to be seen,” Ethan observes.
Nodding, I say, “I was dumb enough to believe it was because he didn’t want his f
iancée, Chelsea, to find out.”
“Chelsea Neufield?” I didn’t hear Ally walk in, but when she speaks, she comes around and stands behind Hutton, resting her hands on his shoulders. Taking her hand, he kisses it before turning back to me.
Little gestures.
My heart swells because Bennett showers me with those same types of little gestures that mean so much to me.
I ask, “How do you know her?”
Ally adds, “Not long ago. A month or less maybe. She came into the Everest Foundation office offering to be on our charity board.”
“What happened?” I ask, my heart picking up speed, my gut twisting.
She looks around, seeming to pull the memory from thin air. Her eyes come back to me. “We don’t have any board positions open, but when we do, we take them from our staff. Everyone at the foundation starts by working the phones. It’s not glamorous, but answering our helpline is the most important job we have.”
Bennett turns to me. “This is all a little too convenient, so let’s map it out. Ethan and Singer have a past with Kurt’s cousin. Kurt has a past with you, and his fiancée tried to make a connection with Ally, which is a direct line to Hutton.” He takes a deep breath and exhales with a whistle. “I’m not a detective, though I’ve been accused of being one.” He sends me a wink. “But McCoy has been attempting to close in for a while. When nothing worked, he lost his patience and went a different route.”
Tapping my chest, I say the obvious, “Me.” I move to the edge of the chair, gripping the arms. “May I get some water?”
Singer comes toward me and holds out a hand. “You don’t have to ask.” I take her hand as she leads me away from the group like a mama bear protecting her cub. That might be extreme, but I feel her warmth. We go to opposite sides of the island as she asks what I’d like. While she gets the sparkling water, I can hear the hushed tones and murmurs from the other side of the room.
