Rising: Slay Four

by Paige, Laurelin

“Tell you what, Fasbender. You ever want a side job taking down motherfuckers like Werner on the down low—aka, outside government jurisdiction—let’s just say I can make that happen.”

  I managed to smile. “Good to know I have the right kind of friends. I’ll even honestly consider it before telling you no. Thank you for the news.”

  I hung up just as my mobile beeped with a low battery warning. Tossing it down, I lay back down and covered my face with my arm. I hadn’t bothered to close the curtains before falling asleep—I hadn’t even made it under the covers—and the sunlight streaming in felt like shards of glass in my eyes. It had been quite a many years since I’d had a hangover, and now I remembered why I was very strict about limiting my drinking. I needed a bottle of water and two Advil, but both required getting out of bed and one possibly required leaving my hotel room.

  I sat for a few minutes contemplating going back to sleep, but despite my misery, my head was awake now and that meant the thoughts were back, a tangled web of what to do and how to feel. I’d never understood Celia’s desire to escape her emotions so distinctly as I did right then.

  And now there wasn’t just The Problem with Pierce on my mind, but the news about Ron. I should be there for Celia when she found out. We’d done our celebrating when he was found guilty and the sentencing was a relief, but every announcement about the man stirred her up in some way or another, as was to be expected.

  News of Ron stirred me up as well. He was one of the sources of my anger. He was such a vile, despicable excuse for a human being. He was Satan himself, as far as I was concerned. What he’d done to Celia was unfathomable and unforgivable. If I’d been around when it was happening, if I’d known, I would have murdered him on the spot.

  And her father!

  Warren had been around, had known and he’d turned a blind eye. He’d chosen the easy path instead of the right one. He’d ignored the signs and her confession and chose to stand by his brother...for what? For the sake of his company? For the sake of convenience? Was that where Celia learned to protect her tormentors? From the man who’d chosen Ron over her?

  I sat up again, ignoring the pounding in my head as I swung my feet over the side of the bed and stood up. I couldn’t be there for Celia right now—I wasn’t up for it physically or in the right frame of mind—but my temper raged on through the repercussions of last night’s overdrinking, strong and bold and unrelenting.

  And while I had yet to decide what to do with Hudson Pierce, I now, at least, had somewhere to focus my anger.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later, still wearing the clothes I’d slept in, Madge Werner opened the door of her penthouse apartment to greet me. “Edward, what a surprise to see you so early.” Then, she got a good look at me. “Oh, goodness, you look terrible. What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”

  “Cleo’s fine. Where’s your husband?” I pushed past her, leaving the foyer in pursuit of the son of a bitch. “Warren?”

  I found him in the hall wearing a robe and pajama bottoms. “Morning, Ed.” If he was startled to see me, he didn’t show it, barely giving me a nod before heading toward his office. “Phone’s ringing off the hook, people wanting a statement. We’ll want to coordinate with Murphy on the company’s official stance, but my lawyer’s already on it. Nothing to worry about on this end.” He paused at the door so he could give me his full attention. “And we can still appeal, you know. Be sure we’ll appeal.”

  “You most certainly will not appeal,” I snapped.

  Madge gasped behind me.

  Warren frowned slightly, his expression perplexed, as though he hadn’t heard me right. “What was that?”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. The two Advil I’d found in the hotel minibar were not working as well as I would have liked, the terribleness of my headache adding fuel to the volcano churning inside me.

  There were things I needed to say. Important things that needed to be heard. While I was desperately close to just “blowing,” it wouldn’t be productive.

  I took a breath to calm myself. “Warren, sit down.” I nodded at the couch in his office.

  His frown became more severe. “Can this wait? I know you have concerns about this whole Ron debacle, but—”

  “Sit. The fuck. Down.” So much for being calm.

  He was so stunned, he did without further objection. I pivoted to find his wife sneaking off toward the kitchen.

  She gave a fake smile. “I figured I’d just leave you two to—”

  “You should sit down as well, Madge, since this also involves you.” I managed to be softer with her, but only barely.

  “Oh. Okay.” She went dutifully to the couch, folding her hands in her lap. Celia had definitely not inherited her need to buck authority from her mother. Her father then?

  Actually, she’d probably developed it as a survival technique since Warren wasn’t really an authoritarian either. He was entitled, which was entirely different and more annoying as far as I was concerned.

  I moved to lean my backside against Warren’s desk, taking the place of command in the room. By that time, Warren’s irritation at being ordered around in his own office caught up with him, and he stood back up. “What’s going on with you, Edward? Whatever this is, it can’t be so important that it needs to happen now. In case you haven’t heard the news from London, I have things I need to be doing.”

  I gave him an intense glare that sent him sinking back into his seat. “Yes. You do have things you need to do. Defending your good-for-nothing brother is not one of them.”

  His irritation escalated to frustration. “Hey, now, that’s uncalled for.”

  “Is it, Warren?” I folded my arms across my chest, my gaze piercing into him. I’d come here with an agenda, but I hadn’t quite worked out this part of the confrontation. Despite the current disagreement with my wife, spilling the details of her abuse felt disloyal. But I didn’t need to spill anything, did I? Warren already knew. “Think about it before you answer because you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  Madge looked from me to her husband. “What’s going on?”

  “I think you should leave,” he said coldly, his eyes pinned on me.

  I gave him a quick smile that held no warmth. “I bet you do. But I’ll assure you that I am not leaving. It’s past time that we had this conversation. The only reason I didn’t confront you sooner was out of courtesy to Celia, hoping she’d eventually deal with you herself, or that, miracle of miracles, you’d behave like a decent father and reach out to her on your own, but you aren’t a decent father, are you, Warren? And it isn’t really fair to expect her to approach you considering the reaction she got from you the last time.”

  His jaw tightened. “I don’t have to listen to this. In my own home. Madge, call security.”

  She stood immediately, as though it were a habit to do as her husband bid, but she stopped just as quickly when I said, “Madge, you need to hear this, and I believe, you are ready to hear it.”

  “Leave her out of this,” Warren said with as much hostility as fear in his tone.

  It was understandable, really. I couldn’t imagine the terror of having to admit how he’d betrayed Celia to anyone, let alone her mother.

  Madge hesitated, deliberating. When she spoke, she looked at me. “Is this about Ron? Ron and...Celia?”

  “No,” Warren said.

  “Yes,” I said simultaneously.

  She swung to face her husband. “Warren, you told me that nothing happened. You promised me that nothing happened.”

  So she’d guessed. It was reassuring, at least, to find out the woman wasn’t as clueless as she’d seemed. Though she should have had the balls to ask her daughter about it, not her worthless, cowardly husband.

  “I said...well.” Warren was flustered. “I’m sure I didn’t promise anything.”

  “You did,” she insisted, her tone growing shrill. “When I asked you if it was possible if anything happened, you said there was no way. That al
l of the charges were a fabricated lie from a money-grabbing ex-girlfriend. And when I brought up how odd it was that Celia had wanted to stop seeing him so abruptly as a teen, when I said I had a bad feeling about it, you said...”

  She trailed off, but I didn’t have to hear the rest of the conversation recapped to know the basic premise. “He lied.”

  “I didn’t lie,” Warren barked. “I didn’t know anything, honey. I still don’t.”

  Lying piece of dirt. “You did. He did, Madge. He knew because Celia came to him as a teenager and told him that her uncle, a man she had trusted and looked up to, had been grooming and abusing her for years.”

  “No,” Madge half gasped, half cried. “Oh God. No.” She sank back to the couch, her face ashen.

  “And then,” I continued, “after all the courage it took to tell her father, the man who was supposed to love and protect her above all else, he accused her of lying.”

  “She told you?” she asked, incredulous and horrified.

  Warren shifted toward his wife. “It was so long ago now. I can’t remember exactly what she said. You know how kids are. The things they say to get out of spending time with family.”

  Madge heard past the bullshit. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t she tell me?”

  “Would you have let yourself hear her?” I asked, happy to stir the pot. “Your husband certainly couldn’t be bothered.”

  “That’s not how it happened. She came to—”

  I stood up straight, cutting him off. “You know what, Warren? I don’t fucking care about your side of the story. The only version of events that matters to me is Celia’s, and thank God after more than twenty years, she’s finally seeing justice and that shitty piece of human garbage is behind bars. Countless lives that man destroyed, and you could have prevented all of it.”

  I was well aware that Ron had ruined my family long before he’d ever set a finger on Celia, but it still felt good to pin it on Warren. If he had been more involved in his brother’s hand in his business back in those days, he could have prevented what happened to my father’s company too, though I suspected he would have turned the same blind eye to his business practices as he had to Celia’s confession.

  Strangely, after all the years I’d wanted to destroy Warren for the demise of my family, it was only anger for Celia that incited me today. “Your brother is in jail for the rest of his life, but you still have amends to make. I came here today to be sure that happens.”

  Warren stood, his full height still several inches below mine. “I don’t owe anyone anything, and I’m not giving out explanations or apologies for something that happened—”

  I took a threatening step toward him. “You don’t want to finish that sentence. Because if it ends with you dismissing all of this as something that’s ancient history, then I will not be responsible for my actions, and I promise you, you do not want to find out what happens when I’m this mad.”

  I let that sink in, not just to menace him, but also because I needed some composure before going on. As much as I wanted to break every bone in his body, it wasn’t the goal.

  “I already think your daughter is too good for you,” I said when I was the tiniest bit calmer, “and if she walked away from you completely, I would be elated. But she loves you, both of you, for some unimaginable reason, and because I’m devoted to that woman with my entire being, you will fix this. You will do right by her. You will step up—years too fucking late, mind you—but you will finally step up and show her that she is more important to you than you’ve ever led her to believe. Do you understand?”

  Madge shook her head. “I don’t feel well. I need to lie down.”

  I watched her leave the room with disappointment. From what I knew about my mother-in-law, I expected she would spend the next week in bed. No wonder Celia hadn’t gone to her as a child. She would have had to coddle and soothe her mother when it should have been the other way around.

  Madge was a lost cause.

  Warren, though, the man whose amends mattered most, still stood in front of me, silent, half cowering, half ready to do combat. I watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed and the way his eyes darted, calculating his next move.

  I could have punched him in the throat for even considering anything other than what I demanded. “Do you understand?” I asked again, my voice practically a growl.

  His shoulders sank then, as though he finally felt the weight of his betrayal. “I’m not sure how to do that.”

  I nodded, because I’d assumed a response like that, an unwillingness to even try to figure out what his daughter might want or need from him. Even knowing it was coming, it made me want to remove his balls with my bare hands.

  With gritted teeth, I forced myself not to launch myself on him. “Good thing I figured it out for you already.” I pulled my mobile from my jacket pocket, opened up my email app and hit send on the message I’d drafted on the ride over, the device plugged into the car charger as I’d typed. “I’ve sent you a statement. I recommend releasing it word for word since I don’t trust any of your alterations would be suitable. Of course it’s your decision whether you decide to release it or not, and if you can find a better way to make amends with Celia, then go ahead. If you can’t, I recommend you stick to this script.”

  He scowled as he circled around me to his desk. A few clicks later, I watched his eyes scan the screen as he read what I’d sent, his skin going pale. “I can’t just release this. Not without coordinating with Murphy and the board. There could be financial repercussions from saying something like this. It isn’t just about our family here.”

  “Atonement isn’t supposed to be easy,” I said, coldly. “In my experience, it only means something when it comes at a price.”

  “I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his fingers over his brow.

  I’d had enough, my patience completely worn out. “Take the time you need to make it real, Warren,” I said, putting the discussion to a close. “Difficult as this may be, you and I both know this is the least you can do to make things right.”

  I left without a glance back, and only when I was in the lift did I finally sigh with relief. I felt good. Well, better than I had. Adrenaline surged through my veins and for the first time in the last twenty-four hours, I remembered an emotion that wasn’t based solely in rage.

  But I was still angry. And still a wreck. Still not in any sort to be around my wife, so when I got back to the hotel, I grabbed the dry cleaning waiting for me at the front desk and changed for my work day in my new hotel room instead of going back to the one I shared with Celia.

  Fourteen

  Celia

  As soon as Elsa arrived in the morning, I handed off Cleo and set off for Midtown. I was frustrated and paranoid, worried Edward would follow me and think the worst so I took a cab instead of calling for Bert, and I left my cell at the hotel.

  The phone was a source of distress, anyway, and it felt good to be unleashed from it. I’d spent most of the night texting and checking for replies from my husband. He didn’t answer any. He hadn’t even read any after midnight, which increased both my anxiety and my anger.

  Because what was he planning to do?

  What had he already done?

  Was Edward the one harassing Hudson? It was still possible. Based on his reaction, I was certain that Edward hadn’t known Hudson had been the man I’d been protecting before last night, but that didn’t mean Edward hadn’t gone after him for another reason.

  I comforted myself with the fact that the threats I’d read hadn’t been in Edward’s handwriting. That got him off the hook, didn’t it?

  Whether it did or not, I clung to it as truth.

  But then I couldn’t stop playing out other worst-case scenarios in my head, imagining what Edward would do to Hudson if he hadn’t done this. Imagining what he’d do in return. God, it was awful. They were both so powerful, and while I’d seen the best of each of them, I also knew how diabolical they could be
at their worst.

  It made my stomach hurt to think about.

  When I could distract myself from ruminating, I didn’t feel any better. In some ways, I felt worse. Fuck Edward for putting me through this. Fuck him for disappearing on me. Fuck him for being so rigid and domineering and manipulative.

  And fuck me for loving him as desperately as I did.

  Needless to say, I probably wasn’t in the most ideal frame of mind when I showed up at Pierce Industries just before nine in the morning, but there I was, pissed and ready to lash out.

  “He’s on his way up,” Trish said when I demanded to see Hudson.

  Not bothering to sit down, I waited, my stare pinned on the elevator across the hall.

  He saw me immediately. Our eyes met, and whatever spark of life had been in his before he’d seen me vanished, leaving his gaze cold and stony.

  Without saying anything, he unlocked his office and gestured for me to go in. He followed closely, shutting the door behind him.

  I’d told myself on the ride over I’d be civil. I’d told myself I’d be restrained.

  Both promises went up in smoke as soon as I was alone with him in the office. “You really fucked up, Hudson,” I said before he’d even made it to his desk. “And you can’t blame that on me. This was your doing. You’re the one who brought this to my house.”

  I hadn’t realized how much guilt I was feeling until the words came out. I didn’t want to be the person harassing Hudson and his family. I didn’t like that version of me. I was a different person now, but if Edward wreaked havoc on his life, it would be my fault. Hudson would point the finger at me.

  But I’d tried to prevent it! I’d tried and risked my relationship doing so. It was Hudson and his busybody wife that had fucked everything up, and I was here to make sure he got the record straight.

  Unfortunately, Hudson wasn’t in a mood to listen, which probably stemmed in part from my hostile approach. He slammed his fist down on his desk. “Did you do it? Are you behind this? Yes or no? Once and for all.”