The Confession

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The Confession Page 12

by Sierra Kincade


  “I know I can’t fix what happened,” he said quietly. “And I know you don’t have any reason to trust me. But I’m asking you to stay just a little while. I promise I’m going to nail Max to the fucking wall for what he did to you, and I need to know you’re safe until I do.”

  The dedication in his words gave me a small blossom of hope.

  “My schedules, and the phone numbers. That’s all part of it?”

  He nodded. I pictured him poring over those papers. Trying to decide what to do about the photos. Going over my every move trying to figure out what had happened to me when I went missing.

  Alec Flynn was a good man.

  “I want to be there when you confront him.”

  He looked at me, gaze reaching straight into my soul.

  “I never stopped trusting you,” I murmured.

  He watched me walk past him, out of the kitchen and into the bedroom, where I closed the door quietly behind me.

  * * *

  Exhausted from the day, I’d fallen asleep quickly, but woke around two a.m. with nightmares of my cheek pressed against the soft leather seat of a car, and a sky filled with black stars. I shoved off the crisp sheets, pulling the hem of one of Alec’s T-shirts down my thighs. I’d found it in one of his drawers before going to bed, and hoped he wouldn’t mind.

  It smelled like him. That was what had relaxed me enough to fall asleep in the first place.

  I glanced at my duffle bag, sitting on the wicker chair in the corner. When I’d gotten back to my room the pictures Alec had stuffed inside at his apartment were gone. I didn’t know what he’d done with them, and I didn’t care. I was just glad I didn’t have to look at them again.

  A shuffling sound in the other room drew my attention, and I got out of bed and walked to the door, where a dim light peeked out beneath the bottom. I thought about trying to find some pants, but mine were dirty, and the shirt was long, and anyway, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen me in a lot less.

  It wasn’t like his cheating girlfriend/fuckbuddy/complication could say anything about it, either.

  I cracked open the door, finding Alec in the sexiest pair of worn gray sweatpants I’d ever seen and a thin, blue T-shirt. He sat on the couch, a pen between his teeth, flipping through a spiral notebook, but his gaze shot up when I stepped out of the room.

  My hair was probably a wild mess after falling asleep with it wet, and I didn’t have a bit of makeup on. Why did he always look so perfect when I looked so average?

  He blew out a breath. “Wow.”

  “Yeah?”

  A small smile pulled at his lips, mirroring my own. “Am I making too much noise?”

  I shook my head, and crossed my arms. Maybe it was decent enough to show off my legs from the thighs down, but the lack of bra was definitely noticeable.

  He set down the notepad and stood, the smile disappearing. “Is everything all right?”

  The strain from our last conversation was gone. I approached him, and sat on the opposite side of the couch, trying to stay out of the Alec Flynn brain-scrambling force field. I pulled my knees up beneath the shirt, so that only my toes stuck out.

  “Can’t sleep.”

  He sat again. He didn’t ask if I wanted to talk about it, but the way he leaned back, arm draped over the back of the couch, like he had all the time in the world, told me to go ahead.

  “I’ve been having this dream since I was taken . . . since Maxim took me . . . where I’m lying in the back of a car.” I kept my eyes on my toes. I was in serious need of a pedicure. “It’s probably nothing.”

  He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Maybe it’s a memory.”

  I loved him for not pushing me.

  “The seat’s cool and leather—my cheek is resting on it. I’m not scared when I’m lying there, not until I wake up.”

  “Are you scared right now?” He didn’t move any closer, but his voice was so gentle, I leaned back against the cushion and relaxed.

  “No,” I said. “This time in the dream I looked up and saw black stars. Weird, right?”

  He shrugged. “Any idea what it means?”

  “That I’ve lost my ever loving mind?” I tried to smile.

  “Well that’s nothing new.”

  I snorted, and could feel him grin at me, even though I wasn’t looking.

  “So you have more this time than last time. It might keep building. Give us a little more.”

  “Us,” I repeated. It felt like I had just told him a deep, dark secret, and he was cradling it in the palm of his hand, taking more care of it than I ever could.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Us.”

  His gaze lifted to mine and held, making it hard to breathe. I wondered if he could still feel that connection between us, because his eyes lowered to my mouth, and he swallowed.

  “I’m starving,” he said.

  He rose, and walked to the kitchen, where he took a pan from the stove. How long had it been since I’d eaten? Yesterday I’d had lunch at the hospital. Nothing after that. Not that I had much of an appetite.

  While he removed a pan from the cabinet, I glanced down at the notebook he’d been looking through. It was a directory filled with black-and-white pictures.

  “What’s this?” I asked.

  “Some stuff for the prosecutor,” he answered, opening the refrigerator. “Max sent me to bribe one of the dealmakers in that fuel company. I never knew the name. I’m hoping her face looks familiar. It’s been a while. Six years, maybe.”

  I glanced over the pictures of the smiling men and women, all in suits, all sitting in the exact same position for the company directory. How many of these people had been affected by Maxim Stein’s corruption?

  “How did you know who to meet?” I asked.

  He gave a dry chuckle. “Jessica Rowe set up the appointment. I thought I was paying off one of Max’s girlfriends so she wouldn’t tell his wife. I didn’t realize it was something else until I got there.”

  I thought of Maxim Stein’s secretary, the smooth, cool woman who ran his house, while Alec started mixing something in a bowl.

  “Still no word from her?”

  Alec scowled. “Nothing.”

  “Surely someone knows where she went.” Even if she was dead, it seemed impossible that no one had found her. “Doesn’t she have family? Anyone?”

  “Not that she talked about,” he said. “Max mentioned she had a kid once, years ago, but there’s nothing on paper.”

  How could a person have no connections? Even I had connections, and I had a pretty convoluted childhood.

  “Maybe she had a getaway plan in case things went south,” I said. “A hidden shack in the woods or something.” Yeah right, I couldn’t picture a woman who only wore designer brands strutting through the mud in her five-inch heels.

  “More like a villa on the French Riviera,” said Alec. “She made three times my salary. Plus bonuses. Always in cash.”

  My mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding. What’s a secretary doing making six figures?” Or maybe who was she doing was the better question.

  “Keeping her mouth shut,” Alec surmised. “Jessica worked for him a long time. More than two decades. If she testified against Max, this whole thing would be over.”

  I couldn’t imagine all the things Jessica Rowe had seen in her time with Force. Information like that made you a liability, and with a man like Maxim Stein backed into a corner, there was no telling what he might do.

  “Do you think she’s still out there?” I asked.

  “I’ve got a guy looking into it,” Alec said grimly. “The FBI’s reined in their search to focus on the trial.”

  That seemed like a pretty stupid idea, considering Jessica’s testimony could probably give the prosecution a slam dunk.

  “A guy,” I repeated. “We’ve got a g
uy, while Maxim’s renting out his private jet to fund his defense. That seems more than a little unfair.”

  Alec’s brow rose.

  “Mike told me,” I explained.

  “You should write down a list of things you need,” Alec said, changing the subject. “Any food you want, or clothes. Pants, maybe.”

  I glanced over at him, just in time to see him looking away from my legs, now exposed from beneath my shirt. A wave of self-consciousness had me pulling the hem down over my thighs.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. “I should’ve—”

  “I don’t mind.” He hesitated. “I don’t mind a little too much.”

  I smirked down at my bare thighs and stood. This time when he looked, his gaze stopped at my breasts. I felt the world slow, just as my heartbeat climbed.

  I wanted him to look at me. When Alec stared at me like this, I felt powerful. Beautiful. Not like I’d been used as a prop in some fucked-up photo shoot.

  Behind him rose a narrow tendril of smoke.

  “Something’s burning,” I said.

  He glanced back and swore. The pan clattered as he lifted it off the stove.

  My nose scrunched as the smell reached me. I joined him in the kitchen, smirking as he scraped a blackened pancake off the pan into the sink.

  “Nice job,” I teased.

  He shot a glare my way. “I was distracted.”

  “It’s a good thing this shirt isn’t any smaller then. You might have burned the whole house down.”

  “If that shirt was any smaller, you wouldn’t have made it halfway out of the bedroom.”

  He stiffened suddenly, and then bit down on his top lip.

  “Forget I said that.” He went back to scraping the pan.

  I liked flirting with Alec. It made everything feel less serious. So when he took that away, the weight on the center of my chest grew heavy again. I rubbed my knuckles just below my collarbone to ease the pressure.

  He put the pan back on the stove, turning his back to me. Part of me wondered if I should return to the bedroom. The other part wanted to wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head between his shoulder blades.

  “I missed something,” he said.

  The statement took me off guard, and it wasn’t until a moment later when he looked down at the pan and the bowl filled with batter, that I realized he was talking about the food.

  The way he was looking at me made me wonder if he hadn’t intended it to mean more, though.

  “Cooking spray,” I said. “Or butter. That way the batter won’t stick.”

  He nodded, and went to the fridge for a stick of butter. I leaned against the counter while he made pancakes, my stomach rumbling as the smells began to fill the small apartment.

  He didn’t pull out two plates, just one. But he did put an extra fork on the counter. As he poured syrup over the stack, my mouth watered.

  “Ladies first,” he offered.

  We stood side by side, too far apart to accidentally touch, but too close not to be aware of each other’s movements, and ate pancakes at two in the morning. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t notice that he only took one bite for every three of mine. Maybe I thought he wouldn’t notice the way I stiffened when he reached across for the syrup.

  The whole Feed Anna plan had been sneaky, and I was too hungry to object.

  When we were done, he left the dishes in the sink, and turned off the lamp on the side table in the living room. Darkness swallowed us, and only the light of the moon outside the sliding glass door lit his silhouette as he moved toward me.

  My heart was pounding as he took my hand, and led me into the bedroom.

  Fifteen

  I was following Alec Flynn into a room with a bed.

  The pull was undeniable. I wanted him, and from the looks of it, he wanted me. But things weren’t that simple. My feet began to slow, but though my grip on his hand loosened, he didn’t let go. He turned to face me.

  “Alec, I . . .” I needed a moment to think. I was in a strange place right now. It wasn’t just that I’d been through the wringer this past week—he and I had a history. I’d ended our relationship; we’d spent time apart. He might have found someone new, but it didn’t look like he was thinking about her now. Had he brought me here thinking this is what would happen? That fucking at his apartment would begin some kind of affair? Why hadn’t I considered that when he’d parked the car outside?

  Because I trusted him.

  “I can almost see the smoke coming out of your ears,” he said.

  I gave a short laugh, which caught in my throat as his thumb slid along the side of my hand. Warmth blossomed there, and traveled up my arm, making my whole body tingle.

  “It’s all right,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to try anything.”

  I exhaled slowly, feeling a piece of my anxiety chip away. I wished I could tell him how confused I was by everything I was feeling, but I didn’t know where to start.

  He moved again, and I followed.

  I’d drawn the curtains over the window, but he opened them now, revealing the black night sky. It was different out here, on the opposite side of the Bay. Without the lights from the city, the sky was darker, the moon brighter.

  “All white stars,” he said.

  Another worry slipped away.

  He pulled back the blankets. In silence, I climbed in, but he didn’t follow. He pulled the covers over me.

  Then he lay down on the side of the bed, and rested his head on the pillow, so that he was staring at the ceiling. For a long time I listened to him breathing, aware of every rise and fall of my own chest, and the thickness of the blankets between us.

  “I wish I could face him,” I said. “Maxim, I mean.”

  I hadn’t meant to bring him up now, but couldn’t help but feel his presence, or at least his actions, as much a barrier between Alec and I as the covers on the bed.

  “I took flying lessons once,” Alec said. “I thought it would help me get over my . . . thing.”

  Thing. Otherwise known as fear of flying. Apparently men didn’t admit to things like that out loud.

  “It didn’t work,” he said. “It only helped me hate it more.”

  I tried to picture Alec in the cockpit of a plane, and nearly laughed. It was like trying to imagine a fish driving a car.

  For a long time we were quiet.

  “You can sleep,” he said finally. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

  His words made me feel safe, though they weren’t necessary. I hadn’t been afraid since I’d stepped into this apartment.

  The warmth of his presence descended over me. It made my eyelids heavy and my body relax. The darkness made me brave, and it was in that drowsy place between sleeping and awake that I reached for his hand and pulled it over my body. His chest pressed against my back, and his fingers wove between mine. He adjusted his position to move closer. He nuzzled back my hair with his chin.

  I thought he might have kissed my cheek, but maybe I dreamt it.

  * * *

  We slept halfway through the morning, until the beep of Alec’s cell in the other room woke me. It was the longest I’d slept in months, and when I rolled onto my back, Alec’s arm tightened around my waist.

  I smiled. He was still exactly where he’d been when I’d fallen asleep, stretched behind me, with the blankets layered between us. I turned so that I was facing him, my face just inches from his. His eyes were still closed, his hair messy. His perfect lips slightly parted.

  There was a certain kind of safety in Alec’s arms now, in knowing that I could look at him without him looking back. It felt like a secret in the making; a one-sided confession. With him lost in dreams there would be no expectations.

  I couldn’t help myself; I traced his bottom lip with my finger.

  “Anna,” he murmured, and
the sound of his voice, husky with sleep, moved me. I inched closer, very much awake now. His hand, now around my back, lowered, and I sighed as his warm skin found the place where the fabric had ridden up.

  I swallowed, and froze as he closed the space between us and gently pressed his lips to mine. His fingers spread on my lower back, and his eyelids blinked open.

  He sat up fast enough to leave me dizzy.

  “Sorry.” He rubbed his face. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  I pulled up to my elbows. It was too late now to pretend I’d been dreaming.

  He was facing away, and his hands disappeared in front of him as he adjusted himself. His body wanted me, even if his brain was saying no.

  I knew the feeling.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked, still looking away.

  “Well,” I said. “Really well, actually.”

  “No dreams?”

  I slumped. “No.”

  “How do you feel?”

  “Can you look at me at least?”

  After a moment he half turned, and looked over his shoulder.

  “I’m fine.” I sat up, and pulled my knees to my chest. “You don’t have to worry. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Sweetheart, I’ve done enough wrong things to last a lifetime.”

  I looked down, hating how coarse his voice had become. “You’ve done a lot of right things, too.”

  “But you’re not here because of any of them.”

  He sat up, and strode out before I could answer. I hated that he’d woken with storm clouds over his head when minutes ago I’d felt a peace I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Now the force of the previous day shoved me back down against the pillow. Maxim Stein had touched my nearly naked body. He’d shown Alec and I he could do whatever he wanted, and he’d driven the wedge between us even deeper.

  I had a sudden urge to see the pictures again, to find something on them that proved they were taken over the last weekend. When I did, I was taking them to the police and the trial wouldn’t even matter, because Maxim Stein was going to jail for the rest of his life.

  Alec returned to the door of the bedroom a few minutes later, cell phone in hand.

 

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