by Cora Kenborn
My question was somewhat rhetorical. I had a good idea what her impromptu Saturday morning press gathering was about. Forty-eight hours after kidnapping Finn Donovan, I still hadn’t decided what to do with him.
“Leighton, I should probably tell you something.”
“Shhh, it’s starting,” she said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.
Laying a hand on her thigh, I watched as Lilith took the podium and adjusted the microphone. She wore a black dress and a somber expression as she gazed out at the crowd.
Almost as if she were already in mourning.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’ll keep this brief. My husband, Finley Donovan, CEO of Donovan-Ross left for work at his corporate office Thursday morning and never returned.” She paused, balling her fist and pressing it under her nose. “Finn’s always been a workaholic, so I didn’t panic until Friday morning when I woke to find he’d never came home. It’s now Saturday, and my husband is still missing. I’ve filed a missing person’s report with the Houston Police Department and together, we’re offering a two-hundred and fifty-thousand-dollar reward to anyone providing information leading to the safe return of my husband.”
As Lilith deadpanned a hard stare into the camera, Leighton shuddered beside me. Part of me wanted to assure her I had this under control, but I didn’t. I’d enjoy every second of what was to come. Keeping Finn locked in that basement gave me control in a situation that didn’t know the meaning of the word. I wasn’t there to stop her pain four years ago, and I wasn’t there to prevent it a week ago, but I sure as hell would draw blood for it now.
Unable to hold back any longer, I reached for her, pressing her face against my chest. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“What do you think happened to him?” she whispered, her words muffled.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s fine.”
He wasn’t, but she didn’t need the details.
A question rested on Leighton’s lips I wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer to. I braced for it, prepared to drag her into the dark, when she lifted her head and shoved her hands against my chest. “You don’t understand!” she screamed. “I don’t want him to be fine!”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m glad he’s missing,” she said, loathing in her eyes. “I don’t want him to come back. I hope he’s dead.”
Taking her face in my hands, I opened the gate to hell and pushed her through. “You cried out in your sleep all last night, Leighton. I asked you after the party why you were so afraid of Finn, and now I want a straight answer.”
She settled a blank stare on me. “Are you sure, Matty? Once you open that door, you can’t close it.”
“I already know,” I said quietly. “I need to hear you say the words.”
“If you already know, then why have you blamed me for walking away? You think I don’t belong in your world, but you’re wrong. I’ve made choices and sacrifices you could never imagine. If anyone understands that money is thicker than blood, it’s me.”
May – Four Years Ago
Dragging myself through the door, I dropped my purse and made it up two stairs when the light flickered at the top of the landing.
“It’s well past midnight, Leighton. Where have you been? In fact, where have you been every night?”
I sighed, climbing the rest of the way and brushing past her. “You’re just now realizing I haven’t been here?”
I wasn’t shocked. No one ever asked where I was or who I was with. Not that it was an issue anyway. I was where I’d been for the past three weeks—sitting on the grass next to the train tracks waiting for Matty to show up. He never did, of course. Hope was a powerful gift and the greatest curse.
She grabbed my arm. “Are you still seeing that barrio boy?”
I froze, turning slowly to face her. “How do you know about him?”
“Please, you’re the mayor’s daughter,” she chastised, smoothing a hand over her bleached blonde hair. “You don’t think people recognize when a Donovan is in a questionable part of town?”
“I’m a Harcourt,” I hissed, jerking my arm out of her hold.
“Regardless, you’re not to see him anymore. He’s a low-class thug, Leighton. Think of our reputation.”
Stunned, I gaped at her, the air in the hallway thinning. The fact that she knew about my secret was bad enough but acting like a concerned mother took it over the edge. “You have a lot of nerve talking about reputations and character after turning your back on me. You think you don’t associate with low-class thugs? Take a good look in your own backyard, Mother.”
“I told you to stop making things up.”
“There you go again!” I jabbed a finger in her chest. “You just can’t stop sticking your head in the sand, can you? You want to know why I leave every night? It’s because I know he’ll be here, and the minute I hear that door open I feel like I’m choking.”
“Stop!” Covering her ears with both hands, she shook her head. “I don’t want to hear this again.”
Of course she didn’t. The truth was ugly and shit all over her perfect snow globe world. However, I didn’t care anymore, and after three weeks, I knew no one else cared either.
Wrapping a hand around each of her wrists, I jerked them away from her ears. “You don’t want to hear what? The truth? I told you what he did to me. I begged you for help, and what did you do? You called me a liar. You believed a monster over your own daughter.”
“He’s a good man!”
“He raped me!” I screamed.
The slap didn’t come as a shock. The strike of her hand stung, but not as much as the realization that my whole life had been a lie.
Lowering her hand, she fisted it by her side. “I’ll not have you ruin everything I’ve worked for.”
“I’m your daughter!”
“And he’s my husband.” She lifted her chin, finality washing over her face. “If you’re going to spread vicious rumors and ruin my campaign, you aren’t welcome in my home.”
Her ultimatum didn’t matter. After leaving the train tracks tonight, I’d already made my decision. Leaving Houston was the only way for me to survive.
“This isn’t my home,” I said, turning down the hallway for the final time.
Present Day
Leighton finished her confession, and I didn’t respond. Fuck, I had to concentrate just to breathe. My hands ached from clenching my fists so I didn’t put them through the wall. I wanted to explode—destroy everything in the room and break anything in my path.
“I left you so many messages, Matty.”
A moment of clarity broke through the blind rage. “When I got arrested, Emilio took my phone. When a member gets pinched, it’s standard policy to destroy their burner phones. When I got out a year later, I just got a new one. I never heard them.”
She seemed to contemplate my confession for a minute, her forehead wrinkling in confusion. Then it was as if a wave of understanding passed over her, and she closed her eyes. “Things could’ve been so different for all of us.”
“What do you mean, all of us?”
“I called you so many times,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Even after I’d lost hope for me, I still called because—”
Both of us tensed, on edge and grasping at unraveling threads when, right on cue, my phone rang.
Leighton opened her eyes and glared at the coffee table. “I’m really beginning to hate that thing.”
“Forget it.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Answer it. You know they’ll just keep calling back until you do.”
As much as I hated to admit it, she was right.
Grabbing my phone from the table, I stared at the incoming number and growled into the mouthpiece, “Not now, Bright.”
“I finally decrypted a couple other things on that flash drive,” he said, ignoring me.
“It can wait.”
<
br /> “I don’t think it can.” A hint of pity crept into his voice. “Mateo, you really need to hear this.” That got my attention. In all the years I’d known him, Professor Bright had never called me by my first name.
“Give me half an hour.” Immediately disconnecting the call, I turned toward Leighton, her face already shutting down. “Leighton, I’m sorry, I—”
“Go.” Standing, she picked up her coffee mug and turned toward the kitchen. “It’s waited this long. A few more hours won’t matter.”
“You have five minutes,” I said as he slid into the passenger’s seat.
“Trust me, that’s all I need.” Powering up his laptop, Bright punched in keys until a small black box appeared. His fingers stalled on the keyboard. “Before I play this, I want my door unlocked.”
I didn’t give a shit. Unlocking the door, I pointed toward the computer. “Play the tape.”
Nodding slowly, he swept his fingers across a few more keys and my heart stopped as Leighton’s voice filled the Tahoe.
“Matty, it’s Star. Where are you? You didn’t show up, and...God, Matty, please call me when you get this.”
“Matty, it’s me again. It’s been two weeks. Whatever I’ve done, I’m sorry. Please call me. I went to our place again tonight. Stupid, huh? Just call me and let me know you’re okay.”
“It’s me again. I don’t know if you care, but I’ve left town. I’m in San Marcos with my grandparents. I really need to talk to you, Matty. It’s important.”
“Matty, I get it, you don’t want to be with me, but you have to call me back. This doesn’t have anything to do with you and me anymore.”
“Fine, I wanted to do this in person, but you’ve given me no choice. Matty, you have to call me back. I’m pregnant. I just thought you deserved to know.”
“I just wanted to say congratulations, Matty. You have a daughter. If you care to be a father, you know where we are.”
No. This couldn’t be true. As intimate as we’d been over the past week, Leighton wouldn’t have hidden something like that. It wasn’t in her nature. She was too honest. Too uncorrupted. Too protective.
Shit.
Pieces of conversations flew through my head, finally making sense.
“There’s no threat because I can’t get pregnant. I had some complications a few years ago and lost my ovaries.”
“I didn’t say anything before because you have to understand, Mateo, I’ll do anything to protect my family.”
“You ask me to make a choice to blindly follow you, but you won’t even own up to your own choices.”
“If you want to be with me, you’re going to have to learn to accept all of me. You can’t ignore it anymore.”
“Things could’ve been so different for all of us.”
I was wrong. Her anger had been completely justified. She thought I knew and didn’t care. She thought I’d turned my back on my own child.
My child.
My hands clenched into fists. “Where did these originate?”
“That’s the thing. I can’t trace the original file.”
It didn’t matter. The truth had been lying to my face for years. Only one person had my phone. If these messages existed, only one person could’ve kept them from me this whole time. The same person who’d already lied to me about talking with the DEA.
I took a breath, trying to control the vicious anger roiling inside me. “Get out.”
Bright loosened the tie knotted around his neck. “There’s more.” Clicking a few more keys, he turned the screen around as another black box popped up. “This one isn’t so pleasant.”
“911 dispatch, what’s your emergency?”
“There’s a drug deal going down on Gray and Elgin. I think it involves one of those Carrera Cartel guys.”
“We have an undercover officer in the area already on it. What’s your name, sir?”
“That’s all,” Bright said. “The caller hung up after that.” Closing his laptop, he dropped it in his bag and secured the latch.
“I’ll need a copy of these.”
“Already have it.” Pulling another flash drive out of his pocket, he dropped it into the cupholder as he quickly climbed out of the Tahoe.
Brody was waiting by the curb outside the DA’s office when I pulled up. He’d barely closed the door before I hit the gas.
“Do you mind telling me what the hell was so urgent I had to postpone a very important meeting?”
I didn’t even glance at him. “Your stepfather killed Hector Diaz.”
“What?” I expected the shock in his voice, but it still irritated me. “Are you insane? Finn is the CEO of an oil company, not a sicario. Turn this fucking car around. You’ve lost your damn mind.”
“I don’t give a shit if you believe me or not. You can ask him yourself.”
“Oh, sure, when he turns up, I’ll just—” His voice trailed off as everything clicked. Dropping his head against the headrest, he groaned. “Oh fuck, Mateo, you didn’t.”
“You’re damn right I did, and I’d do it again.” I jerked the wheel, my tone harsh. “But that isn’t what has him in one of our holding tanks.” Turning my head, I held his stare for a moment. “Brody, I have to tell you something, and I need you to keep as calm as possible.”
He let out a breath. “If it’s about you and my sister being together when she was a teenager, I already know.”
What? Fuck, I didn’t expect that.
“No. It’s about Finn and your sister.”
Brody’s voice got deathly low. “What the fuck did you just say?”
He listened quietly as I recounted the story Leighton had told me. Brody sat motionless, gripping the door handle until his arm shook. When I finished, he just stared at me, his face chalk white.
“Brody? Say something.”
“Pull over,” he rasped.
I pulled off the shoulder of the road, and he ripped off his seat belt. Flinging the door open, he wretched onto the asphalt until I was sure he’d pass out. Finally wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he climbed back into the truck.
“Take me to him.”
Putting the Tahoe in drive, I pulled back into traffic. “With pleasure.”
After I unlocked the heavy steel door, Brody didn’t bother opening it. He just kicked it in. The black tarp crunched under his expensive dress shoes as he stormed across the room.
“Oh, thank God, Brody! You have to get me out of—” Finn’s head snapped back as Brody barreled straight into him, landing one hell of an impressive right hook across his face. Blood poured from his already broken nose as he let out a strangled howl. “You hit me!”
“I trusted you. I stood up for you,” Brody roared, wrapping his hand around Finn’s throat. “I should rip your throat out.”
I stood against the wall, watching what was left of the cultured lawyer in Brody Harcourt be replaced by a ruthless killer. While I couldn’t say the transformation wasn’t overdue, this wasn’t his show.
“Not until I get some answers first,” I interrupted, moving in between them. Reaching into my waistband, I pulled out my gun and waved it in Donovan’s face. “Finley, you fucked up.”
“Oh? What offense did I commit this time?”
“I just found out something very interesting. Why did you have me busted four years ago?” I tapped my gun against his nose. “I know you called in the tip that got me arrested.”
Finn wisely kept his mouth shut for a few minutes, probably weighing his options. When he came to the conclusion that he had none, he glared at me through swollen eyes and smirked. “You think this was all my idea? Wake up, asshole, your own cartel members have done others’ bidding long before the almighty Val Carrera.”
My finger twitched against the trigger. “It was your voice on the dispatch call.”
“Getting rid of you was a fringe benefit. You took up too much of her time.”
I slammed the side of my gun against his face, my control breaking.
Finn spat out a mouthful of blood and laughed. “How do you think you got sent away without so much as a fair trial? If you think you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, you’re an even bigger dumbass than I am.”
“Our members wouldn’t rig the system against our own.”
He grinned through bloodstained teeth. “Are you sure about that?”
I knew his game, and I couldn’t let him knock me off mine. So instead of letting him rattle me, I pressed the barrel of my gun against his cheek. “Leighton said you lost your six iron.”
“So?”
“One of our men’s head was turned into cream cheese with a six iron.” Using my free hand, I pointed to my temple. “Left an imprint right in his skin.”
“Oh, and I did it because I belong to a country club and like to hit the links?”
“No, because you’re a fucking rapist who isn’t smart enough to cover his own crime.” I increased the gun’s pressure on his cheek. “You’re too stupid to do this on your own, so tell me who gave the order, and I might let you go.”
“Are you fucking serious?” Brody yelled behind me. “You’re going to let him go?”
“Shut up,” I growled.
Finn watched our back-and-forth with interest. “If I tell you, you’ll let me go?”
Stepping back, I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped the barrel of the gun against my bicep. “I’ll consider it.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Then maybe you should be at Caliente instead of here.”
Part of me already knew it, but hearing the words still sucked. Lowering the gun, I held it by my side. “Are you saying…”
“Yeah, genius. There’s been an unholy alliance for years, and it’s not in Mexico. A power play none of you saw coming.” A slow smile parted his lips. “Except maybe sweet Leighton. She always was a smart one—feisty too. I wonder if that trait was passed down?”
Images blackened my vision, and I aimed my gun at his forehead. “She’s mine. Both of them.”
“Wait!” he screamed, jerking in his chair. “You said you wouldn’t kill me if I told you.”
