Love always,
Brynn
Chapter 19
Beneath the flickering overhead lights in Jet’s kitchen, Brynn sat staring at her laptop and the bank statement she’d pulled up on it. Even if she withdrew everything from her account it wouldn’t be close to what her dad owed O’Shea. But what she had was better than nothing, and if she went to Timothy before he sent Benny or one of his other thugs to get it, maybe he’d be willing to negotiate a payment plan of sorts.
Of course he would. Because unlike her father, so long as she kept working, she could be counted on to pay.
Yep. She could definitely do this.
Even if her actions were akin to putting one of those tiny sized bandages on a wound that was bleeding out, she’d get them past this debt. This crisis that would not be the last.
All she could hope was that her father waited until she’d dug them out before he compounded this latest mistake with another. Before his debts became something so big, even with her working to pay them off it wouldn’t be enough to prevent the necessary points to be made. She couldn’t let herself think about that or it would make her sick, break her down when she needed to be strong. Today was about dealing with what she could control.
Her phone rang and she blinked back the tears that were still well beyond her control. Her dad calling this time. Not Ford, who’d been blowing up her phone since just after five. About an hour after she’d slipped out of his place like some thief in the night. She’d texted him once, after the first call, to tell him she was all right. And then she’d left the rest of his messages unread.
Eventually he’d understand. He’d have to.
She let her father’s call go through to voicemail, too, and after a moment the little message icon popped up on her notification bar.
Danny liked the idea of her helping him out all right, but he wasn’t any fan of her handling the delivery of the money herself. Too dangerous, he’d said, which coming from him was a laugh.
Dangerous would be including him in the chain of custody. Hoping he’d actually give her entire savings to O’Shea, rather than get sidetracked and place another “sure thing” bet. Maybe flash it around like he was flush while he set the next sucker up for a deal designed to scam.
Pass.
Dear old dad wasn’t laying a finger on one red cent of her money again. Not for as long as she lived. She’d handle things on her own. Because as it was, Benny D. probably had her interests more at heart than her own father. Maybe even Timothy, too.
A moment later Jet shuffled into the kitchen wearing a pair of too loose boxers and a white T-shirt with a hole in the armpit. She’d known him long enough not to say anything until he’d gotten his coffee, and this morning she was grateful for the extra time.
The pot clanked too hard against the mug and Jet muttered an oath she couldn’t quite make out. But then he was sliding into the seat across the table from her, looking her over warily.
“Are you going to cry again?”
She shook her head, hoping she was all cried out, but not entirely trusting her voice if she wasn’t.
“It’s okay if you need to.”
“Thank you,” she managed without shedding a tear. “For letting me crash here. For…everything.”
He nodded, staring into his cup. “Are you sure about all this? About Boston?” Then, slumping deeper into his chair, he added, “Fucking Boston, Brynn.”
“I’ll still be working the TNT games, so we’ll see each other. And someplace new is going to be good, I think.” She hoped.
It would be hard at first, because there was no part of leaving Ford that was going to be easy. But at least if she was across the country, she’d know she wasn’t going to bump into him on the street. She wouldn’t have to worry about looking across the bar and seeing him out with a date. Or the temptation to just forget about all the overwhelming reasons she needed to stay away from him, and then running the few blocks to his place and begging him to take her back.
Jet pushed up from his chair and gave her shoulder a short squeeze. “Stay as long as you need to. And just—shit—text me to let me know you’re okay tonight, will you?”
“I will.”
—
In Ford’s life there’d been a handful of incidents that when looking back, he couldn’t believe the idiot he’d been.
Partnering up with Harry Liebmacher on his first game—yeah, that had been pure idiocy. Trusting him with the data and files and never thinking for a second the asshole would take all of it and release the game on his own. His lawyer told him he was a fool for not taking him to court, but at the time his parents had just been killed in a car crash, and what was left of his family, Ava and Sam, needed him. The last thing he cared about was some game, even a game he’d worked on for a year. Besides, Harry had been an impatient fuck and hadn’t been able to wait for Ford to implement the final changes, which would have taken the game from mediocre to something that could have been spectacular, before launching it. In the end, the couple of grand the guy earned wasn’t worth pursuing, and Ford stood by his decision on that.
Another head-hanging moment: believing Paulina Devlin’s sudden and overwhelming interest in him had to do with anything other than learning he was the guy behind Hibachi Cannonball. Ava had told him he ought to be careful about whom he shared that information with, but then he’d been a few bourbons past a bad idea when Paulina prowled by in a black backless dress that dipped low enough to show off the twin indents at the base of her spine. The next morning he’d woken to her in his bed telling him she thought she loved him. He tried to be polite, but not saying those words back had led to a bout of pretty tears and a heap of totally misplaced guilt. Two days later she was trying to talk him into a penthouse apartment in one of the skyscrapers downtown, pointing out jewelry she liked before dropping to her knees, and making travel plans like it went without saying they’d be together for the months and years to come. He hadn’t been so sure, but she was exciting and sexy, and he figured why not give it a chance.
By that time, he’d known not to expect anything like he’d felt for Brynn. So with Paulina he lowered his expectations and just went with it. A week later she’d hit on Sam, promising that Ford never needed to know. She obviously hadn’t known Sam, because the guy was as loyal as they came and Ford knew about Paulina’s proposition approximately three and a half minutes after she made it. That had been the end of that. Well, that and a fat check and some fancy footwork from his legal team to get her to sign the nondisclosure agreement she’d shockingly abided by.
He’d never made that mistake again.
Two humiliating incidents in his life, and yet they didn’t hold a candle to what he’d felt when he realized Brynn had played him again. Betrayed him.
In those first moments, the cold panic at finding Brynn gone had nearly overwhelmed him. And once he’d realized what she’d done and that she was okay, panic had turned to rage, which then—out of necessity—had turned to an icy calm and clear sense of purpose. Brynn was at Jet’s apartment. He knew she was safe, thanks to her text. And while she hadn’t specified where she was…she was using her phone, and phones could be tracked. They could be hacked. And while as a rule, Ford preferred to keep his tech-savvy skills on the up-and-up, he had a few friends from college who were plenty comfortable wading around in the gray areas. The dark gray areas. And with Brynn’s future on the line, he had no problem joining them.
Enter Dieter Minkes, Saul Green, and Blake Willis. Dieter was his teaching assistant from junior year and a guy whose favorite hobby was collecting firewall breaches to top-level financial institutions and government organizations. Fortunately, the guy was harmless and did it for the thrills and not to screw with the system. Saul was his sophomore lab partner and a man with a slightly less hands-off approach to the average individual’s privacy. And then there was Blake, whom he’d met fulfilling a language elective and happened to have a thing for phones.
“Saul, what have you got?” Ford
said, answering his call on the first ring. His fingers flew over the keys, accessing one restricted site after another.
“O’Shea’s ‘accountant’—not who’s filing his taxes, by the way—is a guy named Bellamy. Bellamy’s clumsy and careless, more meathead than mathlete. He’s done a few stints, but the two go way back, and this is the guy O’Shea trusts.”
What they were doing was illegal. Unquestionably.
Ford knew it. And the guys knew it. Hell, the guys thrived on it, but for him it wasn’t about a rush or thrill. It was about getting Brynn out from under her father’s cycle of debt and violence. And he couldn’t—wouldn’t—risk her safety or peace of mind for a single day longer than necessary just to stay within the confines of the law. He wanted her free. Safe.
He’d promised he could end this—and that was what he was going to do.
By any means necessary.
“So, you able to find anything worth a little leverage?”
Saul laughed, the cocky son of a bitch. “Yeah, you could say that.”
—
Six o’clock. Brynn had long since given up on trying to relax. But eventually, despite the sluggish ticking of time and her mind’s incessant spinning through one scenario after another, from worst case to best and back again, it was time to meet Timothy. Collecting the water glass from the windowsill where she’d stood watching life drift by for the better part of the afternoon, she carried it back to the kitchen.
That gnawing sense of dread picked up as she went to check her purse and counted out the bills one last time. She couldn’t give Timothy any reason to doubt her. Any reason to feel like it was necessary to make a point.
“I can keep you safe, Brynn.”
Ford’s promise had been rushing through her mind from the minute she left his bed. Heck, who was she kidding? From the minute he’d said them, she’d wanted to believe. And if anyone could fulfill that promise, it was Ford. But that was one risk she wasn’t willing to take. Not for her own sake, but for his. She couldn’t allow him to be dragged into this cycle of greed and debt and danger she’d been stuck in her whole life. She couldn’t take his security and toss it away, just because being with him made her world a place she actually wanted to live in.
She couldn’t be that selfish.
She loved him too much.
Drawing a deep breath through her nose, she straightened her shoulders and tamped down the worry and dread eating her gut until it had become a hardened layer beneath her resolve. She’d gathered as much money as she could get. She had a plan. And she could only hope that Timothy was in one of his more reasonable moods.
Walking to the front window, she looked out onto the street below. No sign of Benny. Not that she’d been expecting to see him, but then it wouldn’t have been the first time her dad had misrepresented the seriousness of a situation for his own benefit.
Her dad had let Timothy know she would be coming to him and then relayed the Irishman’s dictate for time and place. Ten o’clock. At the warehouse he called his office.
A location she’d been to more times than she could count. A place where she’d sat on Timothy’s lap and pushed pens around his desk while her dad took care of business. A place where she’d sat once or twice not exactly understanding the uneasy tension between her dad and Timothy until much later, when she’d figured out that ride Benny had given her after school wasn’t because it was raining. But because they were making a point to her dad.
Her legs felt numb as she crossed to the door. Her fingertips going pins and needles as she gripped the knob. It was going to be okay.
She and Timothy would come to an agreement—and unlike her dad, she would stand by it. She would deliver on time, every time. And everything would be fine.
Except for the part where she’d given up the only man she’d ever loved.
Her throat went tight, but there was no time for tears or nerves or the second thoughts she was having about her decision to go to Timothy’s alone. At night. With only a portion of the cash her dad owed.
Swallowing hard, she shook her head. Too late to back out.
She locked up Jet’s place and took the stairs down the three flights, her unease mounting with every step. And then she was swinging open the security door, her focus on her car parked a quarter of a block down when—
“Where you headed, Brynn?”
The unexpected words hit her like a bolt of lightning, firing up her entire nervous system in shocked warning. Staggering back, she nearly fell, but then those big hands were locked around her arm and waist, holding her steady as the fresh laundry smell washed over her in a calming wave.
“Ford,” she gasped, leaning into him in relief before she tried to jump back again. “Wha—what are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing. But then I’ve got a pretty good idea already.”
That’s when she heard it—felt it.
He was furious.
“Ford, I’m sorry. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I needed—”
“Me to let my guard down?” he cut in sharply. “So you could rush off and risk your safety—damn it, maybe even your life—when I was right here. Right here ready to help you. Fucking begging to help you.”
The force of his words made her flinch—but then she was straightening her spine to meet his eyes. Because in this she was right. “I didn’t want your help, Ford. I didn’t want you to be involved. But you wouldn’t listen.”
“Because these guys are dangerous. You told me yourself!”
She shook her head. “I was handling it.”
And then it occurred to her, maybe she could still keep Ford safe. Still keep him from hitting her father’s radar, or Timothy’s. She looked him square in the eye. “I did handle it. It’s done and I’m fine.”
He had to believe her. It was the only way she could protect him.
Eyes to the sky, he let out a sharp, humorless laugh, prompting a newer, deeper feeling of dread in her stomach.
She scanned the street around them. “How did you know where I was?”
Ford’s arms crossed over his chest and he leveled her with an unapologetic stare.
“I tracked your phone and hired a security guy to make sure you were safe. He’s parked in the blue sedan.”
She followed the cars lining the street until she found the one with a man in the driver’s seat. She hadn’t even seen him, and she’d been looking.
“You took your clothes,” Ford said flatly, drawing her attention back to him. “Were you even going to go back to your apartment?”
What could she say? She’d already tried to tell him goodbye, but he wouldn’t listen. “Jet was going to help me sell off the furniture. I was going to leave for Boston tomorrow.”
“Goddammit, Brynn.”
“I’m sorry.” More than he could ever know. It was true.
“Me, too. Now get in the car. We’re going to see your dad.”
Brynn’s feet dug in as her breath stuttered out. Her dad? No, she needed to leave now. For Milwaukee. To see O’Shea. And preferably without Ford.
“I can’t.”
Ford stopped, then turned to face her, ready for her argument.
“I can’t give my dad the money. I don’t trust him to deliver it because this is everything I have. If he—if anything happened, I can’t get any more. Besides, I already made other arrangements to deliver it.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve already been to see O’Shea.”
Her mouth dropped open, then closed. Opened again.
She needed to know what Ford had done. How far he’d worked himself into this mess she’d only ever wanted to keep him free of. Only—he’d already been to— How did he even know where to find him?
As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, he nodded toward the car waiting with the engine running. “The bill with Timothy O’Shea is settled. You’ll never hear from him or any of his guys again. Now just get in the car.”
Brynn followed him to the car and g
ot in, jumping when Ford slammed the door closed without waiting for the breath that had rushed from her lungs to return. Without so much as meeting her eyes before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat. “This meeting is to make sure your dad understands why.”
Chapter 20
When they hit the expressway, Ford cut a look her way. “I called O’Shea and met him at the Brat Stop in Kenosha with twice the amount your dad told you he owed, which, by the way, was an inflated number.”
“Twice? What—why would you do that?” Only she already knew. He’d thought paying forward would be enough to keep her safe. To protect her from her father’s next mistake. God, his money was gone and now that his ability to pay was recognized—
“The additional funds were to act as a retainer. To keep your dad out of trouble. Basically, I hired O’Shea to babysit the guy.”
Okay, so maybe she didn’t know.
“And you think it’s going to be enough?” It wouldn’t be.
“Alone, probably not,” he conceded. “But that’s why I brought some additional incentive. You remember Dieter, Blake, and Saul from school?”
Those guys? She remembered their hero worship of Ford and their full court press to get him to join their secret hackers club. They’d been skirting the fringe edge of the law and, from what she remembered, looked like they were about to fall right off. “I would have guessed they’d be in jail by now.”
“Yeah, not so much. Saul does freelance IT security and Blake works for the Department of Defense. Dieter is actually a barista at a Starbucks,” he explained, only the barest hint of a smile touching his lips and making her heart hurt all the more for its absence from his eyes. “But they all still have their hobbies.”
Oh God. What had Ford gotten himself into? “Did you do something illegal? Ford, are you going to—”
“We were careful. The guys are good at getting into places they shouldn’t be able to without setting off any warning alarms. They were able to access O’Shea’s accounts, the legitimate ones, as well as get into his accountant’s computer. The debts. The less legitimate accounts. The passwords. Basically, I explained how long it had taken for us to get into the files. How easy it would have been to modify them. Corrupt them. Distribute them. Or wipe them altogether. When I was sure I had his attention, I gave him the rest of the money and suggested he take a special interest in keeping your dad out of trouble. As it turns out, O’Shea happens to have a position available for Danny at one of his businesses. He’ll start tomorrow.”
Now and Then (Dare to Love #3) Page 13
