The Confession

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The Confession Page 30

by Sierra Kincade


  “She was under oath,” said Stein’s attorney. “As are you right now, Ms. Rossi.”

  “I’m telling you the truth,” I said, slapping my flat hand on the table so hard the microphone rattled.

  “Was Alec Flynn telling the truth when he accused my client of stealing the Green Fusion design?” pressed the attorney, standing close now, just beyond the witness box. “Or was he angry because you’d betrayed him by sleeping with his boss? I can tell you right now, I’d be furious if my girlfriend went behind my back like that.”

  “Counselor!” ordered the judge.

  “I’d do anything to see the guy who touched her suffer. Anything.”

  “Alec didn’t do this out of spite,” I said.

  “So he wasn’t upset? Ouch. Maybe you didn’t mean as much to him as you thought.”

  This was falling apart. I closed my mouth. I had to. Everything I was saying was coming out wrong, and this fucking snake was leading me right into his den.

  The judge pointed her finger at the prosecutor, who was still trying to put the brakes to this inevitable crash.

  “That’s it,” she snapped. “We’re taking a recess.”

  “I just have one final question,” said the defense attorney.

  The courtroom stilled.

  “Ms. Rossi,” he asked. “Do you often go home with strange men you meet at bars?”

  I lowered my eyes, and succumbed to the nightmare.

  I was going to lose everything.

  Thirty-four

  Alec’s testimony was the next day. I waited by the window of the hotel room, staring out into the busy streets of downtown Tampa, hoping that someone would bring me word as soon as he had been dismissed.

  My appearance yesterday in court had been a disaster. The prosecutor had done what he could to patch things up regarding Jessica’s accusation that I had been a part of the plan to steal the Green Fusion blueprints. There was nothing to do about the pictures—they were out for my father, the news, everyone to know about—but he’d managed to prove that I had not, in fact, been in Miami with Maxim Stein during the time Jessica had accused me of. I’d been working. Derrick had no doubt scrambled to get copies of my old work schedules.

  The minutes turned to hours. Numbness had taken away much of the sting, but I still felt the passing of time. How long before they took Alec away? Would they do it today? Tomorrow? Would I even be able to see him before they did?

  They’d told me I couldn’t make any phone calls.

  I was sort of tired of being told what to do. It wasn’t like I had a lot to lose now anyway.

  Amy answered on the first ring.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Oh God,” she said. “You sound bad. It’s bad, isn’t it?”

  “It’s bad,” I said. And started to cry.

  For the next ten minutes, we barely spoke, but she was there on the end of the line, and that’s what mattered.

  * * *

  At five thirty, there came a knock on the door. I didn’t get up. It was Tenner; it had to be. He’d taken to bringing food inside and setting it on the hotel room desk when it became apparent that I wasn’t ordering room service.

  When I didn’t answer, the door opened.

  I didn’t turn around. I stayed planted on the windowsill, and closed my eyes to shut out the people rushing by on the street below. It occurred to me he had news of the trial, but now that the time had come, I didn’t even want to hear it. The dread that had wormed its way into my stomach told me it wouldn’t be good.

  “The first time I saw you, you were sitting in your car, AC blasting, eyes closed. I kept wondering what you were waiting for, parked on the street like that.”

  I had turned sharply at the sound of Alec’s voice, but wasn’t able to move when I faced him. He had his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders hunched a little from the great burdens he carried. Despite this, he smiled, and the warmth that had been missing in his absence shimmered through me.

  “The neighborhood watch,” I murmured. “You busted me for illegal parking.”

  “It wasn’t illegal,” he confessed with a small shrug. “I didn’t like the idea of you waiting for anyone but me.”

  He’d made up a reason to talk to me. Even now, I was glad he had. I would never regret his presence in my life.

  “And here I am, waiting for you again.”

  He glanced at the ground, where he rotated the heel of his shoe over the carpet.

  “Seems only fair since I’ve waited for you my whole life.”

  I rose then, and went to him, sliding my arms within his suit jacket and resting my cheek on his chest. He curved around me, so that we were like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

  “How long do I have you for?” It felt like I was always wondering the answer to this question.

  “We’ll know tomorrow morning,” he said. “I’m all yours until then.”

  I could hear it in his tone. He didn’t expect this to end well. He’d already accepted he was going away. If the jury suspected that he had lied to the federal prosecutor about his role in Maxim’s affairs, his former plea deal would be off. He’d be taken to jail to await his own trial, with a bail set so high there’d be no way I could bring him home, and a chance of getting off would be close to impossible thanks to the case Stein’s lawyers would throw against him.

  “Just until then?” I asked.

  He held me tighter.

  “For as long as you’ll take me.”

  I blinked rapidly and forced a steady breath. If we had limited time, I wouldn’t spend it crying. I wouldn’t let his last memories of me be with a broken heart and runny mascara.

  “If the hold’s off, I need to call Marcos,” I said. “I haven’t talked to him in days. He’s been watching Maxim’s house, trying to see if Jeremiah Barlow’s tried to make contact . . .”

  “He hasn’t.”

  “Well, maybe my dad . . .”

  “Anna.”

  The way he said my name made me halt. As much as I wanted to chase leads, find something to keep him in my arms, he needed me here, now.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked.

  He pulled back to look at me. His knuckles skimmed my cheeks, and then burrowed into my hair, combing it down the center of my back.

  “I want to take you out,” he said. “And then I want to take you to bed.”

  “All right,” I said.

  He took my hand in his, and kissed my knuckles, and then he led me right out of that room to the elevators. As I passed Agent Tenner and Janelle, standing in the hallway, my worst suspicions were confirmed. They hardly glanced up at me, and when Alec passed, they didn’t even say good-bye.

  * * *

  We got takeout tacos for dinner, and took them to a park by the Bay. It was a quiet place, and the press didn’t follow us. Alec held my hand as we walked out to the pier, and sat on a bench overlooking the water. I felt his gaze on me constantly, though when I met his eyes, he looked away.

  “Tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said when I’d finished my second taco. I thought he’d been keeping up with me, but now that I looked I saw that he’d barely touched his first.

  “Like what?”

  “Like your favorite color,” I said. “I don’t care.”

  I wanted to know everything. I wanted to keep every piece of him I could if we were separated.

  “Red,” he said. “When it’s lace and on your body. Black. When it’s lace and on your body.” He reached behind my back to wrap a piece of hair around his fingers. “Pink.” His hand lowered to my thigh and began to slide up beneath my skirt. “Definitely pink.”

  It took me too long to slap away his hand. There were people around. But I could still feel his touch on my bare skin.

  “How’d you lose your virginity?” I
said.

  He snorted. “The way all fifteen-year-old boys do. With an older girl in a dressing room at the mall.”

  I barked out a laugh.

  “I don’t think that’s how most fifteen-year-old boys lose their virginity.” I smacked his chest when he grinned like he had something to be proud of. “How much older was she?”

  He sighed wistfully. “Old enough to buy me beer.”

  “I’m fairly sure that’s illegal.”

  “I guess you haven’t heard,” he said, “I have a very questionable past.”

  His words were light. His tone was not.

  “You’re such a bad boy. Kind of makes me want to go to the mall and find a dressing room.” I scooted closer. “If you’re good to me, I might even buy you a beer afterward.”

  His brow quirked.

  “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather have you on a bed,” he told me. “Where I can see all of you.”

  Again, I felt my throat tighten. I didn’t want this to be the last time he touched me, but if it was, I wished I’d had the ability to make it more memorable.

  “I don’t even have anything sexy to wear,” I said, swiping my hair back.

  “It doesn’t matter what you wear.” He gathered the half-eaten food off our laps. “Come on. Let’s go.”

  * * *

  I could barely look at him on the car ride back to Mac’s restaurant. Every time I did, my eyes stung and my throat tied in knots. I held his hand so tightly my knuckles turned white, but he didn’t say a word about it. Every few minutes he brought my hand to his lips, or rested our joined hands on his chest.

  Every time I glanced at the clock, a small wave of panic took hold of me. The minutes were going by too fast. Morning, and the fate of our love, would be here too soon.

  We walked in silence up to the stairs to the safe haven we’d made a home these past few days. So much had changed since I’d first come here. I’d been so afraid, on the verge of losing my mind, and Alec had brought me back one touch at a time. He’d saved me, just like he always did.

  I wouldn’t die without him. But I couldn’t really live, either.

  With the key in the lock, he paused.

  “Would it be easier for you if we didn’t go inside?” he asked. “We could drive around. Do something else.”

  I put my hand on his, aware of each jagged, broken piece of my heart.

  “Would it be easier for you?”

  “Yes,” he said quietly.

  We didn’t leave.

  I helped him turn the key in the lock, dismantle the security code, and push inside.

  Without turning on the lights, I took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom. The air was cool and stale, this place having been left empty these last few days, but soon that would change. It would be warm, and the darkness would embrace us, and every inch of him would belong to me.

  He kissed me. Softly at first, but as the seconds passed, the things he’d been holding back began to break, though. I could feel it in the pressure of his lips, and the desperate caress of his tongue, and the way his hands trembled as they cupped my cheeks.

  I slipped his jacket off his shoulders, pulled his tie free, and unbuttoned his shirt, my own hands shaking. There was no stopping my tears now. They ran freely, and he kissed them, too, holding me close even as he pulled my dress over my head.

  “Say this isn’t the last time,” he said. “I don’t care if it’s a lie. Just say it.”

  I slowed. My fingers loosened their grip on his shoulders, and I smoothed them up his neck to his face.

  “Alec.”

  He moved me back toward the bed. I felt the mattress behind my thighs, but didn’t sit.

  “Baby, wait,” I said.

  His chest was rising with husky breaths. I held his face in his hands and forced him to look down at me.

  “I love you,” I said. “I’ll love you the rest of my life.” I kissed his chin, and his lips, and his flexing jaw. “This isn’t the last time, I promise.”

  I believed that now. Even if they tried to take him tomorrow, I was going to dedicate every second he was gone to getting him back. And if I had to wait, I would wait. I would do whatever I needed to do in order to hold him again.

  He murmured my name.

  “Make love to me,” I said.

  He laid me gently on the bed and then took his place at my side. We touched each other slowly, hands and lips memorizing every curve, every muscle, every single place on the other’s body that led to a gasp, or a sigh, or a groan. We loved each other until time became meaningless, until our hands and lips moved with a greater urgency, and only when the tension became unbearable, did he move between my thighs, and fill me.

  He said he loved me, and that I was beautiful, and that he was afraid. And I soaked up all of it, taking all his fear and passion the same way I took his cock. With a desperate, aching need to make us both whole.

  There came a point, at the very end, where we were.

  Thirty-five

  I listened to Alec’s heavy heartbeat, my cheek against his chest, my arm wrapped so far around him that my fingers rested between his back and the mattress. He held me, too, one hand on the small of my back, the other tangled in my hair. My head was pleasantly fuzzy from what he’d done to me, but that didn’t stop the doubt from squeezing in.

  Morning was coming, and that judge, and the twelve men and women of the jury, had the power to take away the man I loved more than anything in this world. They had the power to condemn me, too, though the last time I’d talked to the prosecutor, it had sounded like I was in the clear.

  Hooray. That made me feel so much better.

  I thought back over the utter train wreck that was my testimony, wondering if I could have said something different to clear Alec’s name. Stein’s attorney had run me straight into the ground, first by alluding that I was a money-grubbing whore, and then with Jessica Rowe’s accusation that I’d had an affair with her boss. It didn’t make sense how she would have known I’d been in Miami any time, much less February.

  It didn’t make any sense at all actually.

  I sat up.

  “Who knew that I was taken to Miami?” I asked Alec.

  He lifted himself onto his elbows, and even in the dark room I could see the scowl on his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Who knew?” I asked. “You and me. Maxim, obviously, and Jeremiah Barlow. Janelle, and maybe her team. Who else?”

  “No one else that I know of,” he said.

  “Did Janelle tell anyone else about the pictures?”

  “No,” he said. “She was clear they’d stay between us until she had enough evidence to bring down Max and Barlow.”

  “She never told the prosecutor they were taken in Miami?”

  “No. Where’s this . . .”

  “Did you tell anyone else they were taken in Miami?”

  “You know I wouldn’t.”

  He was sitting fully upright now, and placed a hand on my knee.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, concerned. “Did you remember something?”

  My head wasn’t foggy anymore. It was crystal clear. I sprang from the bed.

  “Maxim Stein never came within a hundred feet of Jessica Rowe, that’s what Janelle said. The FBI would have intercepted any calls she made or received.”

  Alec swung his long legs off the side of the mattress while I began to pace.

  “She knew I was in Miami, Alec. Stein’s attorney told me she testified that I was there with him in February. Why would she say that?”

  He rose. “To add fuel to the theory that you had a relationship with Max.”

  “But why Miami? Why not pick New York? Or London? Or goddamn Pakistan?”

  He tilted his head.

  “She knew I was there, she just lied about w
hen.”

  Alec turned, and snagged a pair of jeans from the dresser drawer.

  “Your dad tailed her down to the Keys,” he said. “That’s only miles from the hotel where you were taken.”

  My hands started to shake.

  “She could have been there when I was.”

  I’d thought Maxim had gotten to her, scared her, and that’s why she’d testified the way she had. But now it seemed entirely possible that she’d planned on protecting him the entire time.

  He jerked on his jeans, and flipped on the light. His phone was on the dresser, and he reached for it now, scanning through a list of numbers before he pressed Send.

  “Who are you calling?” I asked.

  “The hotel in Miami.”

  “I thought you said it was closed for renovations.” I found my dress on the floor, and hurriedly pulled it on.

  “The other hotel, across the street.”

  Where the pictures could have been taken.

  “Mark, hi, it’s Alec Flynn, we talked last week about . . . Yes, that’s right. Listen, I have another favor to ask of you.”

  I listened as he gave the details of Jessica’s appearance and was put on hold. While he waited, I raced to the kitchen, where the prepaid phone had been placed back in the drawer beside Alec’s gun.

  I reached for them both now.

  Quickly, I dialed my father’s number, placing the weapon on the counter. It went straight to voice mail. Thinking he was just on the other line, I called again, but again, there was no answer.

  “Dad, it’s me, call me at this number as soon as you get this.” I nearly hung up, and then stopped myself. “Just look in your missed calls folder and press SEND. Yeah, yeah, I know, you’re a detective, of course you could have figured that out.”

  I hung up and dialed the next number.

  “This is Marcos.”

  “Hey, it’s me. Have you found anything on Jeremiah Barlow yet?”

  He sighed. “No. But look, he’s not in the wind, yet. We’ll catch him.”

  “I want you to check on Jessica Rowe, Maxim Stein’s secretary.”

 

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