“What are you doing?”
“Changing his password.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to. And he’ll know it was me. For once, he’ll know I had the upper hand. It might be silly, but there you go.”
“It’s not. I get that. He’s a big bear to poke, though, when you could be in and out without being detected.”
No more hiding. No more secrets. She was done with all that, and him knowing she’d been in his account, that she was no longer afraid to defy him, would solidify it. She stopped typing and looked over at Gage. “Tomorrow morning I’m calling my lawyer to tell him I want to be Queen for a Day. I’d say the bear will get poked anyway. Will you go with me? To the US Attorney? They probably won’t let you sit in, but—”
“Absolutely. I can wait outside.”
He’s so good. And he wanted to support her. Despite everything he knew, he saw the real Micki, the good Micki, buried beneath the rubble. I could really get used to him. “Thank you.”
After changing the password, she clicked back to the inbox where Phil’s e-mails flashed in order of the date received. She scrolled, skimming the ones from the past week. His sister with an invitation to his niece's birthday in a couple of weeks.
If things went Micki’s way, Phil would be sitting in a cell by then. Ugh. She couldn’t think about that. About the shock his family would suffer. The loss of him. Not going there. He’d never cared when Micki had suffered that same loss. Back then, he’d seen it as a victory. A conquest. One that separated an eighteen-year-old girl from her loved ones.
Back to business here.
She kept scrolling, skipping the e-mails lacking attachments. She needed that video.
Who knew Phil received so many e-mails in a day? To avoid distraction, she locked her gaze on the right side of the screen stopping at each e-mail with a paper clip icon.
Gage nudged her shoulder. “No luck yet?”
“Not yet.”
Wait. An e-mail from Tomas. With a paper clip. She clicked on the e-mail, found a zipped file. Oh, Tommy. Half sick over her so-called friend’s possible betrayal, she clicked again and the folder downloaded. Another click revealed an MP4 file and her head damn near exploded. A week ago, these men had been her central focus. On some level, she’d trusted them.
Given the things they'd accomplished together, this business of destroying lives, she couldn’t fathom why they even deserved her trust.
So much for loyalty.
The man next to her, though? He was the one deserving of trust. She bumped his shoulder. “I think I found it.”
“Seriously?”
She clicked the file and a black-and-white video of a long hallway with—one, two, three—doors lining it filled the screen. The night of Tessa’s attack, Micki hadn’t gone into that part of the house. She’d mostly stayed in the yard, only venturing into the kitchen once for a refill of her soda. The house had been huge, though. At least ten thousand square feet. At the time, she’d marveled at the wealth.
One of the doors off the hallway opened and a man—a kid really—with short blond hair stepped out, tucking his shirt in, and Micki’s empty stomach rolled.
Behind that door, Tessa was stoned and being violated in the worst way a woman could.
Time stamp: 12:08 AM.
Any minute now, Jonah would be led to that room. The events of that night—the one that obliterated her life—were a constant loop in her brain, each element committed to memory.
Time stamp: 12:10.
As the empty hallway loomed in front of her, the video played and she slouched back, hugging her arms around her torso.
Time stamp: 12:11. And there was Jonah, innocent laughing Jonah, being led around the curve of the hallway by Harrison Shaw. Heartbreak and rage spewed, an instant burst of hatred and horror and agony. That pig. That fucking degenerate, lowlife. That monster. He'd stolen all of their lives. Tessa, Jonah, and Micki. Gone. She wanted to pound on him. Just take her fist and smash it into his skull. Beat him until he bled.
And then she’d line up his friends, every one of them, and pound on them, too. Over and over and over. Let them experience being a victim. Being violated.
For Tessa. For every woman who’d been victimized.
“Sons of bitches.”
Needing to move, to get rid of the energy devouring her, Micki hopped off the couch, pointed at the images.
“This is it.” She jabbed her finger. “Jonah is going to walk into that room. When Harrison—he’s the kid that lives there—leaves, Jonah will come out. To find me. I haven’t seen this part of the video, but Jonah told me what happened. He took Tessa out of that room and brought her to one at the end of the hall. It faced the side of the house where we smuggled her out. I can still see him opening that window. He literally shoved her through and she toppled to the ground. She could barely walk.”
Gage’s gaze stayed fixed on the screen as she paced around him, sometimes moving in circles simply to burn off energy. All the while, sneaking peeks at the screen.
That damned night. Everything changed after that. And behind that door, Tessa was…God…what they were doing to her. What they would have done to her had Jonah not been invited to join in.
She stopped pacing, put her hands over her eyes. “Those animals!” she cried, her voice jagged and rough. “They destroyed us all. That girl had to live with what they did to her!”
Heart slamming, absolutely banging against her chest wall, Micki dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. Block it out.
“I hate them for what they did.”
Gage’s warm hand landed on her shoulder and she flinched. He snatched his hand away, taking the heat with him.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know better than to put hands on someone without them seeing it coming.”
She dropped her hands and stepped toward him, her body craving his and the comfort she found there. “It’s not you. I’m just…not used to people touching me.”
He folded her in his arms and she rested her forehead against his chest. Exhausted and strung out, she concentrated on leveling her emotions off.
“Are you sure you can watch the rest?”
“I have to see it. Compare it to what I’ve imagined all this time. Those boys should be castrated.”
“Yeah, they should.”
Gage rolled the SUV to a stop in front of Miss Joan’s porch and the outside lamp threw enough light to illuminate the interior of the SUV.
“So,” Micki said, “I’m thinking I won’t kiss you good night, right here.”
“I think that’s probably a good plan. For now. Your brothers aren’t known for their tact, and I’m not sure either one of us is up for an interrogation about what’s going on with us.”
“Reid and Jonah know something’s up. And Evie promised to keep it to herself. I think she likes having sisterly secrets.” Britt and Grif she wasn’t sure about.
“I think if Britt suspected, he’d come to me.”
Micki smiled. “Oh, yeah. He’d give you the what-are-your-intentions speech.”
“And won’t that be fun?”
Micki yanked on the door handle and slid out of the SUV, dragging her backpack over her shoulder. “Thank you for tonight.”
Across the seat, he met her gaze. “I didn’t exactly suffer through it.”
“Not that! Cripes, men are pigs. I meant talking me through the whole Queen for a Day thing. I needed a level head.” She nudged her chin toward the house. “I’ll tell Jonah I'm cooperating. He said it was my decision, but I’m not sure he liked the idea.”
“He’s probably worried about you.”
She nodded. “I know, but I can’t live with the constant threat of Phil. It’s time to end this.”
So she could get on with her life, settle into her hometown, and connect with her family again. Make some friends and hopefully, if she caught a lucky break, get to know the man in front of her.
At the moment, she didn’t necessari
ly deserve Gage, but if she could put Vegas behind her, admit her wrongdoing and make amends for it, she might become whole.
Something she hadn’t been since she’d left Steele Ridge.
Gage looked beyond her at the front porch where Jonah stood on the threshold.
“Everything okay?” he called.
“Yep,” Micki said. “All good. I’m coming in now. I need to talk to you.” She turned back to Gage, met his gaze for a long minute. “Goodnight, Mr. All-American. Thank you and I still think you’re amazing.”
“Ditto. Call me when you’re done with Jonah.”
Gladly.
She closed the door and marched up the porch steps, ignoring Jonah’s curious stare. “Don’t ask me about him. I don’t know.”
“Fair enough. Did you decide anything about Flynn?”
She stepped inside, but turned back to watch Gage’s SUV travel down the long drive. Jonah stood, his hand wrapped around the doorframe of her mother’s new house. The place Mom had always told her she’d love to live in one day.
Now she did.
This was Mom’s sanctuary.
Maybe it could be Micki’s, too.
Jonah gently closed the door, then flipped the lock. “Mom’s asleep. We can talk in the kitchen if you want.”
She led the way, snagging a water bottle from the fridge before she sat. Assuming he’d want to see the video, she set her backpack on the table. Jonah took the spot across from her and tapped his fingers. Nervous. Her mind drifted back to the night of the party. The only times she remembered seeing her laid-back brother agitated revolved around that damned party.
Well, she’d fix that.
“I’m calling Owen in the morning and telling him I want the Queen for a Day deal. Once they hear what I have, they’ll want my testimony.”
“Are you sure?”
No. When it came to her boss, anything could happen. The variables were endless. “I’m terrified. For sure. As long as I’ve known Phil, the recent trip to Mexico aside, he’s been able to avoid prison. My putting him there will fester. Every day he sits in that cell will get him angrier. I’ll have to face that when he gets out.”
Jonah shrugged. “He’s in his fifties. If we get lucky, he’ll die in prison.”
“His reach is long, Jonah.” She couldn’t worry about that, though. She let out a sigh. “Still, cooperating is the right thing to do. It’ll get me my life back.”
Her brother leaned forward, rested his hands flat on the table. “I’ll support you. You know that. We all will. We just want you back.”
Pressure built behind her eyes, in her throat, along the backs of her shoulders, and she squeezed her eyes closed. If she started spewing, just unleashed the years of pent-up frustration, it might take all night to get rid of it, and she still had a lot to say to Jonah.
She opened her eyes again. “I want to be back. I’ve always wanted that. I should have come to you sooner. I was scared and then, as time went on, I don’t know, I was so immersed in Phil’s world, I’d lost control of my own life. I gave it all to him. It took all of you to make me see that.”
“Which is exactly why he isolated you. He’s the classic abuser.”
“You’re right. But starting tonight, I’m fighting back. We’re fighting back.”
Together, they'd do this. She dragged her laptop from her backpack, fired it up, and turned it toward Jonah. “This is the entire video of you leaving that room with Tessa.”
His features hardened, his jaw literally popping from the pressure of locking his teeth together.
“How’d you get it?”
“I took a chance that Phil had it, all of it, in his e-mail.”
“You hacked into his e-mail?”
“Yes. And I got what we needed. You weren’t in that room long enough to attack her. Now you can take this and hopefully Tessa’s statement to your lawyer. It should prove you’re innocent.”
Jonah sat back, ran his hands through his hair, and scrunched his face. “Damn. How did one fucking party create such a mess?”
“Because people are evil. We can make it right, though.” She pointed at the laptop. “Do you even want to see it?”
He paused for a moment, then shook his head. “I don’t need to. But thank you. You shouldn’t have hacked his e-mails. That could come back on you.”
“If I admit to it while I’m Queen for a Day, it won't.”
Jonah snorted. “Queen for a Day. Unbelievable.”
Micki reached across the table and held her hands out until her brother, her twin, grabbed hold. “We’ve got this,” she said. “You and me. Like always.”
The next morning, Gage rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower, and decided it was a great day to go to work. Even the normal morning headache had given him a reprieve and that fact alone, aside from getting laid in spectacular fashion the night before, sent his energy soaring.
Sex did things—really good things—for his overall existence.
He opened the front door and a burst of sunlight streamed in. The weather guy said to expect unusually high temps today, which worked for him because he needed to jump on one of the four-wheelers and check the progress on various areas of the training center.
On his way up to Tupelo Hill he’d call Micki, see if she wanted to ride along. Maybe pack a picnic lunch. Him, the guy who’d never put much stock into romance, doing a picnic lunch. Go figure.
Plus, he couldn’t picture Micki doing it either, so between the two of them, it could be a stumble into hilarity.
He locked the house up, flipped his key ring on his finger, and headed across the small patch of lawn to the driveway. One day he’d make room for his car in the garage, but for now he was stuck parking outside.
Five yards from the truck, he stopped. Froze in his spot, his gaze fixed on something—an animal—on his hood.
Squirrel? He glanced up at the tree where the branches hooked over the driveway. In the months he’d been here, he’d never had a squirrel fall out of that tree. And the way this one was lying there, it couldn’t be alive.
He moved closer, noticed the long wiry tail, and his head started to pound.
Three strides around the front of the vehicle gave him a clearer view.
Rat.
Son of a bitch.
Ignoring the throb, he scanned the area, searching for anything out of place. The neighbors' garbage cans weren’t in their same order—recyclables, garbage, smaller garbage—but that could have been their son doing his normal half-assed job of stowing them. Half the time the kid left them tipped on their sides.
Gage went back to the rat and stepped closer, studying it. The head and tail were intact, but the lower half was crushed. If, by some chance, the animal had gotten onto his hood on its own, there was no way it could have done it with its body damned near flattened.
Timing being what it was, with Micki talking to a lawyer yesterday and then spending time with him last night, it wasn’t a stretch to figure out how a dead fucking rat wound up on his hood.
Someone—and he knew who—had put it there.
Fucker. Hot, primal anger flashed inside him. If they didn’t deal with Phil Flynn, he’d never leave Micki alone.
Was she safe? He’d watched her go into the house last night. With Jonah. If something had happened, he’d know by now. Wouldn’t he?
Heading back to the house— no sense standing in the driveway making a nice bull’s-eye for someone— he slid his phone from his pocket and propped it between his ear and shoulder as he unlocked the door and slipped back inside.
“Good morning, Captain America. How’s the stud today?”
She’s safe. A surge of relief broke up the tension in his neck. “Hey. Good morning. You okay?”
“I’m great. Actually waiting for my mom. We’re doing some baking this morning. And then maybe a walk around the property. She says I need to get out more and get some sun on my pasty skin. And to think I’ve missed her terribly.”
They were
going walking? Alone? “Is Reid there? Or Jonah? Not sure it’s a good idea for you two to be out walking alone.”
Micki snorted. “Lord, not you, too. We’re fine. We won’t leave the property.”
Gage glanced at the dead rat. He'd need a couple pics of it in case they could use it as evidence. “Don’t forget about Phil. Can’t get too comfortable.”
“He won’t try anything on the property. He knows my family is here. And he definitely knows you and Reid were Special Forces.”
The pounding behind his eyes kicked again, and he shoved the thumb and middle finger of his free hand into his eye sockets. “Still. I think you should wait on the walk. If Reid and Jonah aren’t around, I’ll be there shortly. Just…wait. Please.”
He glanced at the rat again. He should tell her. For no other reason than to make sure she stayed put. “I—”
“Hey, Mom,” Micki said.
He heard Miss Joan’s voice in the background and then Jonah’s, and the pounding in his skull backed off, gave him a second to get his thoughts together.
“Let me talk to Jonah,” he said.
“Um, sure. You’re acting strange. Are you okay?”
Great. Now she thought the brain-damaged guy was going off the rails. Nothing like total emasculation for a Green Beret.
“I’m good. I have a few errands to run and then I’ll be up there. I’ll stop and see you.”
And tell you about the dead rat.
“I will look forward to that. Here’s Jonah.”
The line went quiet for a second while she handed it off.
“What’s up?” Jonah said.
“Are you going anywhere this morning?”
“No. I’m locking myself in to go over that budget you left me. Seriously, do we really need that much gunpowder?”
Yes, they did, but he didn’t have time to discuss it now. “Good. Keep an eye on Micki.”
“Why?”
“I just found a dead rat on my truck.”
19
Gage recited the condensed version of his plan to Jonah, disconnected, and shot off a text to Reid. If he’d stayed with Brynne last night, he might still be in town before heading to the office. Gage would give him a few minutes to respond, then, Reid or no Reid, he’d pay a visit to Flynn.
Breaking Free (Steele Ridge Book 5) Page 20
