Bad Blood (Lone Star Mobster Book 5)

by Cynthia Rayne

  “Um, I should probably clean up and sanitize everything.”

  “Right. Thanks again.” Chase kissed the top of her head and then released her.

  And then they broke apart.

  It’s silly, but even having a few feet between them was too much. Mary couldn’t get close enough to Chase.

  And if she were smart, she’d get as far away from the man as she could. Leaving him would hurt, but this was coming to an end, and she had no choice but to accept it.

  ***

  “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” Mary murmured.

  “Are you sure? You went above and beyond today.”

  After Alan had taken Harry home, Chase and Mary ate some dinner, took separate showers and then climbed into his bed together.

  Chase rested on his back and Mary was pressed against the length of his body, on her side. He stroked her hair as they lay there together in the darkness. He’d never felt so peaceful, so content in his life, even though Chase couldn’t have everything he wanted when it came to Mary.

  It’ll be fine, as long as I don’t cross the line. Think of this as a bonus, a gift.

  Or that’s what he told himself anyway. Although a voice in his head whispered, it was already far too late for self-imposed boundaries.

  “Actually, in some ways, I healed myself a bit. It reminded me of who I am, and what I can do—I’m powerful, a survivor, not a victim.”

  “Well, I wish you’d left the bullet in him.” Mary giggled, and it made Chase smile. “You know, I’ve been thinkin’.”

  “About what?”

  “I read this book by Dave Grossman once, a retired Lieutenant Colonel, and he said people can be divided into three groups: wolves, sheep, and sheepdogs. Most people are gentle and kind like sheep and others are cold and cruel wolves.”

  “Like Noah and Tucker?”

  “Yes, they prey on other people for their own selfish ends.”

  “And what about sheepdogs?” she asked.

  “They tend to the flock and guard the animals from the wolves.”

  “And which are you?”

  Chase laughed without humor. “I’m a sheepdog, but I keep company with wolves, which is why I’ve never fit in with the outfit.” The realization had smacked him in the face earlier today while observing Mary save a life. “In the military, the violence served a greater good, a purpose, so it didn’t bother me.”

  She considered it a moment. “I think you’re right. And what about me? Am I a sheep?”

  He was so damned proud of Mary. Chase had never met a better person, and he was more determined than ever to get her back to Harvard safe and sound.

  Chase cupped her face. “Far from it. You’re a sheepdog, too. I watched you work today. A sheep wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. Mary, you saved a wolf, even though he’d tried to prey on you. We’re both defenders in our own way, protectin’ others.”

  Before he could stop her, Mary crawled on top of him.

  Once again, temptation reared its head. He longed to take things to the next level, make love to her.

  Chase loved having the delicious weight of her on top of him, holding her, stroking her silky hair. He yearned for her, and Chase didn’t just mean his body.

  Although, his cock swelled, pressing low against Mary’s abdomen. Her breasts surged against the hard wall of his chest. Everything in him urged Chase to flip their positions, pin her beneath him, and satisfy both their desires, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t.

  “Mary, we can’t—”

  “Shh.” She pressed a fingertip to his lips. “You don’t have to say it. I already know, but I can’t seem to get enough of you. All I want is a kiss or two.”

  He devoured her mouth until they were both panting and needy. He’d never experienced such bittersweet torture. When she finally slipped off of him, they laid together on the bed, in pained, swollen silence.

  Chase knew he wouldn’t be able to resist temptation for long.

  Chapter Twelve

  The doorbell rang just after six in the morning.

  Reluctantly, Chase pulled away from Mary. She was still fast asleep, and he’d like nothing more than to lie all day in bed with her. Grumbling, Chase walked downstairs in his boxer shorts to answer the door.

  Chase had been plagued with a series of hypotheticals. What if he took things a step further with her? What if they ended up making love and then he had to let her go?

  Thank God, the angels of his better nature had kept him in check.

  Although, Chase didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. One of these days, they’d make love. It was only a matter of time.

  “Open up, it’s Agent Hawthorne.”

  Ah, hell, I can’t deal with Agent Hold a Grudge.

  With a groan, Chase opened the door, staring Thorne down.

  “I found an old police report you should see.”

  “And I’d be happy to take a look, at a decent hour.” Chase had a hostage/guest upstairs. Now wasn’t the time for an impromptu visit from the FBI.

  “It can’t wait. You’ve got to read this.”

  Chase ran a hand down the length of his face. “I’m not in the mood for another scene from a buddy cop movie. You’ll have to find another sidekick.”

  The agent didn’t even crack a smile. In fact, the expression on Thorne’s face caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up.

  “Tough shit. I talk to people, even when they aren’t in the mood to see me.”

  Chase crossed his arms over his chest. He’d love nothing more than to slam the door in the agent’s face and call it a day. However, it wasn’t an option. The FBI could make things really uncomfortable if they took a notion.

  “What do you want?” Chase stepped aside so Thorne could come in. Mary still slumbered upstairs, and he prayed she stayed asleep, so he didn’t have to answer any awkward questions.

  “I’ve gotta show you something. After we saw your sister’s journal, I started diggin’ around, searching for possible leads, and I got a hit.”

  Suddenly, he was wide awake. “What did you find?”

  “Read it for yourself.” He handed Chase a folder.

  Inside was an old report from thirteen years ago, and the complainant was his sister. Chase didn’t know she’d gone to the police. He read the first few paragraphs and gasped, then dropped the folder as if he’d been burned.

  Thorne picked it up. “Yeah, I had the same reaction.”

  “What the fuck?” Chase sank into a kitchen chair. His knees wobbled like they were made of Jell-O and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him.

  Thorne sat down across from him. “I take it, from your reaction, you didn’t know about it.”

  Chase shook his head. “Please tell me this is some kind of twisted FBI tactic. Tell me you made it up.”

  His face was grim. “I’d do nearly anythin’ to catch a criminal, but I wouldn’t sink so low.”

  “No, this can’t be happening.” Chase rubbed his hands together as though trying to clean them. “My father wouldn’t hurt her. Noah wouldn’t…” He couldn’t even say the words.

  “Force himself on Faith?”

  “Please tell me you’re messin’ with me.” His breath hitched. “Please?”

  “I already answered your question. So you didn’t know?”

  “Of course not!” It was still sinking in. “Wait, you thought I might be complicit in some way?”

  “No, but I had to be sure. Trust but verify is my motto.”

  Chase stood, pacing back and forth, as he tried to make sense of it. Chase felt like he was coming apart at the seams, unraveling. Everything he knew about his family was falling apart. Chase didn’t know what to think anymore.

  His father had an incestuous relationship with Faith, and the proof was staring him right in the face. In her own words, Faith described years of abuse, starting from the time she’d hit puberty. Chase didn’t doubt Faith’s word. She wouldn’t lie,
especially about something this shameful and warped.

  “Nobody investigated?” It was one single report in a dusty old file, but there was nothing else with it, no medical records, no witness statements, not a blessed thing.

  “Faith later recanted, and told the officers she’d made everythin’ up.”

  “And they believed her?” Who walks into a police precinct and accuses her father of rape on a whim?

  Thorne shrugged. “Sometimes teenagers make things up.”

  Chase froze in his tracks. “She wasn’t lyin’.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because she never did. Even as a kid, Faith owned up to everything. While I was breakin’ all the rules, Faith would walk right up to my mom and confess.” Faith couldn’t stand keeping secrets, or so he’d thought.

  “Did you find anything else?”

  “Not a peep, which is suspicious, don’t you think? Especially, when she went missing later on.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Thorne shook his head. “The cops involved were dirty. They were fired from the department five years ago, for taking bribes from undercover federal agents.”

  “How’d they figure it out?” Chase asked.

  “There was a sting operation.”

  “And you think they approached my father for a handout?” It was starting to come together.

  “Yeah, or vice versa.”

  It wouldn’t be the first time Noah had bribed somebody. “And he paid them off, rather than handle it himself?”

  “Think about it. What would happen if two cops went missin’?”

  Chase nodded. “It would bring a whole lot of unwanted attention.”

  “Exactly.”

  The Sin City Mafia liked things quiet so they could do business without any interference from law enforcement or the press.

  “Why’d they keep the report?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it. What if it’s insurance? In case one of them ended up in a landfill?”

  “Makes sense, so let’s go talk to them.”

  “Love to, but we can’t. Neither one of them survived long in federal prison.” Thorne shook his head. “Somebody didn’t want their secrets being leaked to the bureau, I suspect, but they didn’t cover all the bases.” He lifted the folder. “I found this in a rusty old filing cabinet with all the archived paper documents.”

  “This can’t be happenin’. It has to be some kind of nightmare.” And Chase couldn’t wake up.

  “Look, I know you don’t wanna believe your old man did this, but the evidence is pilin’ up.”

  He swallowed. “I should’ve known.”

  “Not if Faith tried to protect you from it.”

  Chase didn’t know what to do anymore. He felt sick inside like he might vomit. No, he wanted to bellow with rage, or maybe curl up into a ball and weep like a child.

  Somehow, he needed to do all three.

  “This information explains her journal entries. Maybe, once Faith got older, she fought back, resisted his advances?” Thorne opened the file. “Your dad’s not technically a pedophile.”

  “What?” His thoughts were spinning out of control.

  “The abuse didn’t begin until she’d gone through puberty.”

  “Yeah, phew, what a relief. My dad only forced himself on his own daughter, but he’s not a kiddie rapist.”

  “I wasn’t making light of the situation. I’m thinkin’ out loud, trying to process the evidence.”

  “So what are you gonna do about it?” Chase clenched his fists. At this point, he didn’t give a damn about the outfit. Let the Feds burn it all down to the ground. Thorne could send them all to jail, for all Chase cared. He wanted Noah to rot in a cell for the rest of his miserable existence.

  “There’s nothin’ I can do. Faith recanted and she isn’t alive to testify to a jury and explain her actions. Plus, I don’t have any corroborating evidence either. I don’t like it any more than you do, but I’ve got to work within the system.”

  Chase hated hearing his sister referred to as a victim but the term fit. In Faith’s own words, she described Noah raping her, night after night.

  No wonder she’d hid in Chase’s room. He closed his eyes. This had been going on for years, right under his nose, and he’d been too stupid to realize it.

  And a lot of things started to make sense, like Noah’s favoritism of Faith and why’d he’d insisted on separating their bedrooms when they’d become adolescents. At the time, Chase had been grateful for the added privacy, but the gesture had sinister overtones now.

  “That ain’t right.”

  “No, it ain’t, but I don’t have a choice.”

  On second thought, it was probably a blessing.

  Chase could handle this himself. It’s time he confronted Noah and had a talk.

  No, on second thought, he didn’t want to talk to Noah.

  I’ll pay him back, with interest.

  But first, he needed some ammunition and not the kind loaded into a gun. Nope, this type would be way more dangerous. When he confronted Noah, Chase needed all the facts. His father was slipperier than greased owl shit when it came to getting out of trouble, but this time Noah wouldn’t dodge the consequences of his actions.

  Chase would make sure of it.

  The agent cleared his throat. “You ain’t gonna do something stupid, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?”

  “Because you’re a smart man. Leave, I’ve got work to do.”

  “Funny, so do I.” Thorne stood and squared his shoulders. “Where is the girl?”

  “What girl?”

  “Don’t play games with me, you won’t win.” Thorne took a step toward him. “Tucker Cobb’s granddaughter, Mary Cobb, is missin’ and you have her.”

  “Do I?” Chase got quiet and really calm.

  “Yes, and I bet if I walked upstairs, I’d find her.”

  “Is that right? Did you bring a warrant, with you?

  His nostrils flared. “No.”

  “Then I guess you won’t be takin’ a walk.” Chase strolled to the front door and flung it open. “Not up there, anyway.”

  Thorne adjusted his hat. “There’s something else I should say.”

  “Then say it and get out.”

  “If your father raped Faith, it’s possible he killed her, too.” He paused by the door.

  Fuck.

  Chase hadn’t even considered the possibility because he’d been too blown away by the rest of it. He still held out a vague hope that this was all some kind of misunderstanding, even though the truth was slowly sinking in, tainting every single memory of his childhood, sickening him.

  His stomach heaved. “No, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t…”

  “Oh yeah? Until today, you didn’t think he was capable of incest. Who knows what else he’s done?”

  “Why are you here? Sharin’ this information with me?”

  “Because I ain’t a fan of organized crime and I’d like to tear the Sin City Mafia down.”

  “And use them to gather intel on the Lone Star boys?”

  “Maybe, but I’d get you justice in the process.”

  “And what if I want vengeance instead of justice?”

  Thorne stepped out the door. “Then I’ll stop you, and you can share a jail cell with your father.”

  ***

  After the agent left, Chase walked around the house, arguing with himself.

  He felt unleashed, a little dangerous. Chase kept thinking about the pistol on his nightstand. All he had to do was go upstairs and then pay his father a visit. This could be over in a matter of minutes.

  No! Stop and think.

  What he needed was answers, and then a plan. When he approached Noah, he needed as much information as possible. The old man had a way of twisting his words, of making Chase doubt himself. He was a master manipulator with decades of practice.

  So Chase needed to speak with somebod
y who’d know what really happened.

  But who? Mom.

  They’d spoken a few times over Skype, usually around the holidays and his birthday, but the conversations were stilted and awkward. Chase hadn’t bothered contacting her in a long time.

  He didn’t miss his mother, and Chase was still angry she’d left them. She’d never offered a plausible explanation, but he had a new hypothesis, and just needed her to admit it.

  Chase pulled out his laptop and got to work.

  “Hello, Chase, I’m surprised to hear from you.” Wendy Warren answered right away. She’d aged since he’d last seen her, more lines around her eyes and mouth, and the gray hairs outnumbered the brown now.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “I’m happy to see you. How’ve you been?”

  Chase wished he could say the same. “I’m fine, but this isn’t a social call so I’ll get straight to the point. I need information.”

  She frowned. “About what?”

  “Your former husband.” Chase couldn’t bear to refer to Noah as “Dad.”

  Wendy glanced at the watch on her wrist. “Um, I’d love to help you out, but I forgot about an appointment. I’ll get in touch with you later in the week.” She leaned forward in the seat, preparing to shut the computer off.

  “Don’t you dare hang up on me. Tell me what I want to know.” For once, he wasn’t going to let her run away from her responsibilities.

  “Okay.” Wendy stared at her desk. “What did you want to ask me?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Mom, I think you already know.” Chase could see the guilt in her eyes. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea. Did you call me just to make accusations?”

  Fine, he’d be direct then.

  “Did Noah abuse Faith?”

  Wendy closed her eyes and gave a wheezing sigh. For a long time, she didn’t speak.

  “Tell me.”

  She swallowed. “I never had anything concrete on him, although I had some suspicions.”

  “And you just left her with him? No, you left us with him. How could you?” His throat burned, as though the bile had risen from his stomach.