Avenging Christa: A Billionaire Romance (Irresistibly Mine Book 2)

by Tracie Delaney

  “Well, I’ve got a little less hair and a little more gut since I last saw you,” he said, rubbing his stomach. “But I can’t complain.” He held out his hand to Kathy. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Johnson.”

  “And you,” she said quietly.

  “Thanks for seeing us on a Sunday, George.” It wasn’t yet eight in the morning, but Dayton and I had to be back in New York by five at the latest. Any later and we risked being late for Max. That could not happen.

  “Not a problem. Please, follow me. I’ve arranged a room where we can talk privately.”

  He showed us to a windowless room with a table that had four metal chairs around it, all pushed underneath. George settled us in then went to get drinks, returning with three plastic cups brim-full of coffee from a vending machine. I took a sip, then wrinkled my nose.

  “I know. Tastes like crap,” George said, grinning. “Still, it’s wet and hot, as my mother would say.”

  “What’s going to happen?” Kathy asked quietly, clenching then unclenching her hands.

  George gave her a friendly smile. I was so glad he had the time to conduct this interview, because I wouldn’t have wanted to risk Kathy’s trust in me to anyone else.

  “I’ll ask you a few questions, just to get the ball rolling, but I’ll be led completely by you. There are no expectations, Ms. Johnson. You go at your own pace.”

  “Will I be recorded?” she asked, glancing nervously at the tape machine on the edge of the table.

  “Yes, if that’s okay?”

  She shrugged. “I guess.”

  George set up the tape, and once he was satisfied, he turned his attention to Kathy. “Why don’t you start by telling me how you first met Sutton Atwood.”

  As I listened to Kathy haltingly tell her story, a hard knot formed in my stomach. I, more than most, knew how rotten Sutton was, how sadistic and brutal he could be, but hearing firsthand what he’d done to the woman sitting beside me, brought my own horrors crashing back. And this was the man who, right this second, had custody of my son. The only reason I managed to hold it together was because of the measures Dayton had put in place. I’d have gone crazy had I not known that Draven and his team were watching over Max. With any luck, Kathy’s courageous stand would not only bring her closure—as well as the ability to finally move on with her life—but would also allow me to free Max from the clutches of a madman.

  George listened attentively, occasionally interrupting to ask an additional question or to delve a little deeper, but in the main, he simply sat there, hands resting in his lap. His face was devoid of emotion, but I knew George. Being a detective for thirty years might mean he’d seen and heard it all, but that didn’t mean he’d stopped caring. He’d demonstrated the depth of his empathy with the way he’d shown such concern and consideration for me during the two years after my own assault.

  An hour later, Kathy took a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out slowly through pursed lips. She turned to me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What for?”

  “For encouraging me to do this. For being by my side the whole time. I feel… free. I mean, I’m still terrified what he’ll do when he finds out I’ve gone to the police, but just telling my story… having people believe me. It means a lot.”

  I rubbed her upper arm. “You’re welcome.”

  I refrained from reminding her that Dayton hadn’t really given her a choice and, although his move had been a risky one, it had paid off. Then again, Dayton was used to taking calculated risks. He’d behaved in an extremely assertive manner with Kathy, but I got the impression his forceful demand had been exactly what she’d needed to give her a push in the right direction, not only to do the right thing, but also to wrestle free from Sutton’s hold over her.

  “What happens now?” she asked George.

  “We’ll bring him in for questioning as soon as he returns to Seattle.”

  I’d updated George as to Sutton’s current whereabouts.

  “The fact that we have your initial complaint on record is helpful,” George said. “And we still have the DNA from that time as well as the pictures the hospital took.”

  I shook my head. “What I don’t understand, George, is why charges weren’t brought in spite of Kathy’s refusal to make a statement. Surely there was enough without that to charge him?”

  George twisted his lips to one side. “Without Kathy’s testimony, Atwood was able to freely claim the sex was consensual. I’ve read the interview notes, and he insisted she liked it rough.”

  Kathy winced.

  “Total bullshit,” I said, angry on Kathy’s behalf, and Sunny’s, and anyone else Sutton had robbed of their lives through his vile and savage actions. “What, rough enough to end up in the hospital with unspeakable injuries?”

  George hitched a shoulder. “Believe it or not, there are women, and men, out there who get off on precisely that. That’s why the case collapsed once the statement was recanted.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Kathy whispered, her tears finally falling. “If I’d been braver, then Sunny wouldn’t have been raped, and she’d still be alive.”

  I put my arm around her shoulder, while George said, “You don’t know that. Even with your testimony, there would have been no guarantees of a conviction.”

  I shot him a grateful smile. The very last thing Kathy needed was to take the blame for what happened to Sunny. She carried enough guilt as it was.

  We rose to leave, but George indicated for me to stay back. I opened the door to let Kathy out and told her I’d catch up with her shortly.

  “What’s up?”

  He pointed to the chair I’d vacated. “Have a seat.”

  I pulled it out, the metal scraping on the cheap flooring. “You really should get some cushioning on these seats, George,” I said, wincing as I sat. “They’re really uncomfortable.”

  “Try sitting on them all day, every day,” he said. “Budgets don’t stretch to comfort, I’m afraid.”

  I grinned. “I’ll have some cushions couriered over, just for you.”

  George didn’t return my smile. “Christa, listen. When we bring Atwood in for questioning, it’s going to set off a chain reaction. He’s not stupid. He’s gotten away with this for years, and he’ll know you’ve had something to do with Kathy coming forward after all this time. I worry for you, and for Kathy.”

  Fear took root in my stomach, but I refused to give in to it. Sutton deserved everything coming his way. I wanted him to suffer, to know what it felt like to be terrified, to pay for his crimes.

  “I’m aware of the risks, George. Kathy and her daughter are coming back to New York with us. Dayton is arranging a place for them to stay, and he’ll have security assigned to them, and no doubt, to me, too. I won’t take any chances, I promise.”

  “Make sure you don’t,” he said gruffly, clearing his throat.

  I got up and walked around the table so I could hug him. “You’ve been a wonderful friend to me, George, and I know you’ll do right by Kathy. Help us get him, please.”

  “I’ll do everything in my power.” He looked up at me with something akin to pride in his eyes. “You always were strong, Christa, but now, you’re tough as well. And you’ll need to be, because you’re in for a very bumpy ride.”

  I nodded. “I’m ready, George. With Dayton by my side, I’m ready for anything Sutton throws at me.”

  22

  Dayton

  “Step on it, Paul,” I ordered. Beside me, Christa fidgeted, as worried as I was that we’d be late back for Max. There’d been a delay because of some issue with air traffic control, and we’d landed an hour later than planned. Kathy and her daughter were sitting opposite, their eyes wide, in awe of the opulence of the limo’s interior. I’d been rich for so long, I often forgot that it could be overwhelming for those not used to it.

  Wait until they saw the apartment. I’d spent the time this morning—while Kathy and Christa had bee
n at the police station—making various phone calls. The previous owner hadn’t left any furniture, and because there wasn’t time to set up the entire place, I—or rather Angie—had pulled a few strings and arranged for a couple of couches and beds to be delivered.

  “Wreck up ahead, sir,” Paul said.

  “Fuck!” I expelled, then, remembering there was a kid in the car, I shot an apologetic glance at Kathy. “Sorry.”

  She smiled. “Given what you’re doing for us, Mr. Somers, I’d say you can cuss as much as you like.”

  A warm feeling spread through my chest. Jesus. I’m getting soft in my old age.

  “I’ll get off the freeway,” Paul said, taking the last exit as cars started braking ahead. “Take our chances on the minor roads.”

  “We’re not going to make it, are we?” Christa asked, panic seeping into her tone. “He’ll use that against us. And what about Kathy? We can’t let him see her.”

  I captured Christa’s hand and brought it to my lips. “Easy, angel. We’ll make it. And he won’t see Kathy. He can’t get access to the penthouse, so he’ll have to wait in the lobby, and Paul will drive straight into the garage. Relax. Everything is under control.”

  I glanced at my watch. Thirty minutes until Atwood was due to drop Max off. We were cutting it close, but I trusted in Paul’s skill behind the wheel. He was breaking every speed limit—if the speed of the landscape passing us by was anything to go by.

  We turned into my underground garage with five minutes to spare. My heart pounded as I flung open the door before Paul had fully stopped the car. He braked hard, still halfway out of the parking space.

  “Come on,” I said, taking Christa’s hand and making sure Kathy and her daughter were right behind us. I ushered them all into the elevator and punched in the code. I opened the door to my penthouse.

  Kathy’s eyes widened when she walked inside, and her daughter exclaimed, “Wow!”

  My phone buzzed, the receptionist letting me know Atwood had arrived in the lobby. She wouldn’t let him up without my specific permission, which I reluctantly gave. There were only two codes for my private elevator: the one Christa and I had, as well as Nina, and the one held by reception. The latter could only be used with sanction from either me or Christa.

  “He’s here,” I said. “Christa, take Kathy and Tilly upstairs to the library then get back down here quick as you can.”

  “Okay.” She disappeared with Kathy and her daughter in tow. I walked to the entranceway and waited by the elevator. It pinged the second I got there. Too close for comfort.

  Atwood appeared, Max by his side. As Max went to run toward me, Atwood clasped his shoulder, stopping him.

  “Where’s Christa?”

  “She’s upstairs. She’ll be down in a second.” I crouched and held my arms out to Max. “Come on, bud.”

  Max wriggled free and threw himself at me. “Dada.”

  A flash of anger crossed Atwood’s face. “No, Max,” he said through gritted teeth. “We’ve talked about this. I’m your dada.”

  I’m going to fucking kill him.

  Max’s brow furrowed in confusion. He glanced over his shoulder at Atwood then back at me. He bent his head over to the left. “Dada?”

  “I said—”

  “We heard what you said, Sutton.” Christa appeared behind me, her jaw clenched tightly, a flush of red mottling her neck. “Hi, baby.” She lifted Max out of my arms and swung him high into the air, then covered his face with kisses. “Have you had a good time?”

  He nodded, giggling. “Yep.”

  I smiled at Max’s customary affirmative response and slipped my arm around Christa’s waist. With a blank stare at Atwood, I said, “You can go now.”

  His eyes flashed with unadulterated hatred. He pointed his finger at Christa. “You tell him the fucking truth, or I’m gonna lose my shit.”

  Okay, now I’ve had enough. My hands automatically made a fist. “Christa, go inside,” I demanded.

  Without a murmur of dissent, she went, holding Max tightly to her. I waited until the door clicked shut behind me. In two steps, I reached Atwood. I gripped him around the throat. I shouldn’t have done it, but as there weren’t any witnesses, what the fuck was he gonna do? His eyes bugged, and he grabbed my wrists, trying to tug my hand away. I squeezed harder.

  “You listen to me, you fucking animal. I’m gonna lose my shit if you don’t rein in your mouth. You feel me?” I slammed him hard against the wall. His head made a dull thud as it connected with the drywall. “Don’t fucking push me, because you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  I let him go, and he gasped for air. “You just made a big fucking mistake,” he wheezed, rubbing at his throat.

  I laughed. “I beg to differ. Most fun I’ve had in a while.” I jerked my chin at the elevator. “Now get the fuck off my property.”

  I stood with my legs wide, my arms loose by my sides. I wanted him to take a swing, and I wanted the punch to land, because it would give me an excuse to hit back. And hell, I wanted to hit back, really fucking badly. Unfortunately, Atwood might be a lot of things, but idiotic wasn’t one of them. Despite the venom shooting from his eyes and the clenched fists that told me he was tempted, he knew as well as I did that hitting me would only play into my hands.

  “She’d better tell Max I’m his father,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I arched an eyebrow and drawled, “Or?”

  “Keep up this bullshit, and you’ll find out.”

  You are so full of crap, dickhead. I rolled my eyes and yawned, then crossed to the elevator and jabbed a finger at the call button. The doors opened immediately. “Get out.”

  He rammed me with his shoulder as he passed. I stood firm. The doors started to close, but then his foot appeared between them, and they sprang back open.

  “Oh, I forgot to mention,” he said, a smug grin on his face. “As things are going so well with Max, my solicitor has recommended the time is right to apply for more permanent custody. He reckons the judge will grant at least a fifty-fifty arrangement. See you in court, buddy.”

  The doors closed, and he disappeared.

  A knot formed in my stomach, and I pinched the bridge of my nose as my temper raged. George and his coworkers in the Seattle police force had better get the mud to stick to that bastard—otherwise we were in deep trouble.

  23

  Christa

  “What time is it?” I asked for the umpteenth time.

  “Five minutes after the last time you asked,” Dayton replied, his hand reaching for mine as we traveled to the office in the back of his limo. I’d barely slept knowing that today was the day Sutton would be hauled in for questioning. I had no idea what his reaction would be, but George’s warning reverberated around my head. He’d go ballistic, I knew that. And I was ready, or at least I thought I was ready, for him to use his special brand of retribution—Max.

  Dayton had repeated what Sutton had said to him, that he was applying for shared custody. We’d updated Francesca last night, and she’d asked us to keep her posted. She did confirm, however, that if the police charged him with Kathy’s rape and assault, then Francesca would apply for—and likely win—immediate cessation of all contact that Sutton had been granted, at least until Kathy’s case came to court and was concluded.

  I just had to hope and pray that there’d be enough evidence to put him away for a real long stretch. Although I’d thought that after my own torturous trip through the court system. I’d assumed that when the jury came back with the guilty verdict, my nightmare was over. Little did I know, it was only just beginning. And I had no doubt Sutton would grease a few more palms to try to wriggle out of the latest allegations heading his way. But we had to give it a shot. Quitting wasn’t an option.

  “Try not to worry,” Dayton said.

  I grimaced. “Easier said than done.”

  “I know, but there’s nothing you can do until George calls. Did he give you any indication of when that might
be?”

  I shook my head, wrestling the empty bag of grapes from Max’s clenched fist. I removed a wipe from my purse and cleaned his sticky fingers.

  “Well, Draven texted me to confirm Atwood arrived back in Seattle at three this morning. I’d guess, given the seriousness of the allegations, they’d want to pick him up as soon as possible.”

  “The waiting is the hardest.” I nibbled the skin around my thumbnail until Dayton tugged my hand away from my face. “I should imagine Kathy is equally on edge. Just knowing he’d been so close to her last night was enough to send the poor woman into a panic.”

  “She’ll be fine in the apartment. She knows not to answer the door to anyone until her security detail arrives later today. I’m going to speak to Draven about getting a detail put on you, too, whenever I’m not around. I want reassurance you’re both safe until that f—” He glanced at Max. “Until all this is behind us.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t going to fight him on this. I had too much self-preservation to take any risks.

  Dayton and I parted company in the lobby. I promised to call him as soon as George made contact. After dropping off Max at childcare, I headed up to my office, knowing my productivity was going to be shot today. My mind wouldn’t stop racing in a million different directions, and concentrating on programming code required focus and discipline.

  It was after three in the afternoon before my phone dinged with a text, and the sender showed as ‘George.’ My heart galloped, and my palms dampened so quickly, I dropped my phone twice. On the third attempt, I managed to swipe the screen and open the text.

  Call me.

  Shit. I scrambled from my chair, muttering under my breath. Several of my coworkers looked up from their computers. I dashed out of the office and ducked into an empty conference room. My hands shook as I pressed call. The sound of blood rushed through my ears, even louder than when Dayton and I had gone to Niagara Falls.

  “George,” I said the second he answered. “What news?”