“Your eyes, just like Hope’s, they tell me everything. They are a window to your beautiful soul. This is what I wanted you to know. This case is hard on me because I have to worry about your safety, but also because I know what he is capable of, and he has his sights on your family. Every time he thinks of you, or contacts you, it pisses me off. Then I wonder . . . did he do the same to Hope? Was she scared? So, while it was your eyes that drew me to you, it was your soul and amazing heart that kept me coming back.”
As hard as that was, it was a relief, too. Knowing I was able to give her a true piece of myself just cements my bond with her. “You say she was Mitch’s twin sister . . . were you close with her, too?”
“God, yes. Every time Mitch would pick on me, or not let me have one of his toys, Hope was right there to defend me, and she always won. Mitch gave into her every single time. They are my half-siblings, different dads, but that never was a factor to us. We are just brother and sister.”
She smiles at me, “I can see that. Mitch being an overprotective ape but being so kind and giving in to her. It is almost how he is with me. I know it is wrong to say, but I think I could bat my eyelashes at him, and he would give me whatever I wanted. It has been like that since he moved here.” She doesn’t realize how right she is.
“You are absolutely right. I don’t know anyone that won’t give in to you.”
“Why didn’t Brent go to jail then? Why is he still free?”
I know she was hesitant in asking me this, and I have to be careful how I word my answer so I don’t give anything away. “You know he has friends in high places . . .”
“My father,” she whispers and looks down in her lap, ashamed of her relation to him.
“Hey, you can’t help who fathered you. But, yes, your father. When the investigation started and it came to light her brother was a police officer in Florida, they started making things difficult for Mitch. For safety reasons, our chief called in other agencies, and the case we are working now is what came to light. I am not even sure if justice would have been served if we pursued Hope’s case. He is slimy and has connections but with all that we are collecting on him now, there is no way he can get out of this. I don’t care who he knows. This way, we can make sure justice is served.”
I am done talking now. As soon as she sees that, she curls up in my lap, lays her head on my chest, and entwines our hands and squeezes me. It is like she is pouring all her love and comfort into my body with her position. I kiss the top of her head and close my eyes. When I wake up a few hours later, we are still in the same position. She sleeps like the dead and doesn’t even stir when I pick her up and carry her to my bed. I find her phone and text Addison. Ever since that castration text from Brielle, I don’t feel comfortable sharing I am having Cambree stay the night.
Nothing will happen, she is asleep, but I am not going to wake her up and put her on the road either. An added bonus is that I get to hold her all night in my bed. I take her shoes off and climb into bed after stripping down to my boxers. I don’t even have to reach for her. Even in her sleep she curls into me and settles right against my side. I fall asleep with a smile, and it is the most restful sleep I have had in almost a year.
One week later
It is officially her first day back at the gym full-time, although she has been coming up here off and on, despite my protests. We keep having the same argument over and over. She doesn’t get what my problem is, and I can’t put it into words. It is irrational, but no matter when she tells me she has been up here, I know she has been in workout clothes, and all these assholes have their eyes on her. Not to mention with Brent still free and the case at a standstill for another week, I am not comfortable with her being anywhere without me.
It never bothered me before her confession about her experimentation. I know that is unfair. She is a lot more innocent than most girls her age, but she is mine. To think she experienced any of that with any other guy makes me crazy. I told you it was irrational. I know she is getting frustrated about our conversations going in circles, and I haven’t spelled out exactly what is bothering me.
I am stretching out and watching her do some tumbling passes, and after each one she shakes out her wrist. She should have had Colby wrap it, but she refused. I start towards her, not going to give her a choice about getting her wrist taped when some guy comes running up and throws her in the air. She lets out a little scream, but quickly recovers. Once her feet are back on the ground she turns and throws her arms around him.
“What are you doing here?’ she exclaims to him.
“I heard you were back, and I had to come and stunt with my girl.” Excuse me, who is this tool?
“You are on.” And before I get my feet to move towards her, he is throwing her, and catching her, and his hands are all over her body. I see red. I don’t even realize my body has moved until I am in front of them, causing them to pause because I am in their way.
“What’s wrong, babe?” she casually asks.
“His hands on your body . . .” I tell her. I know my voice isn’t the kindest, and I don’t give a fuck.
She excuses us and pulls me towards the therapy rooms. Once we get to the room, she turns on me. “What in the fuck is your problem? You have seen me stunt many times.”
“Never with that guy, and it is different now.”
“Different how? And you have seen him, he was my stunt partner last summer, and every year before since I was fifteen.”
“Is he one you experimented with? Is that why his hands roam your body so easily, he was allowed to do it once, so why not again?” I don’t even realize how harsh those words were. I should have realized it before she turned and ran out of the room.
I stood there and berated myself for being such a dick. I took her insecurities and fears and threw them in her face. She opened up to me because she hated the way she felt, and I just used it against her and made her feel worse. “Fuck!” I shout. I go to rush out of the room and try and stop her. An arm holds me back, and it is so tiny, I know I could shrug it off. I look and see it belongs to Brielle, and Colby is right behind her. Not good.
Brielle doesn’t say anything for a few moments. “Let her have some time. You need to cool off, and I swear if I ever hear you speak to her like that again, you and I are going to have bigger problems than we do right now. I will put my foot so far up your ass you will have to have it surgically removed. We have problems right now, but those problems can be fixed when you make it right with Cambree. Until then, don’t come here.” She walks away from me.
I am waiting for Colby to lay into me. I would if I was in his position. He does worse. He stares at me and shakes his head in disgust and walks off. That speaks volumes. He didn’t even think I was worth the time to give advice to.
I rush out and realize her car is gone. I call her and text her, and every call goes to voicemail. She is declining my calls. I understand she is pissed, she has every right to be, but right now with her safety in question it is not the time to be ignoring my calls. I jump in my car. I have to make this right. I have to apologize for being an asshole. I drive to the farmhouse, Brielle’s house, Addison’s house, and I can’t find her anywhere. I keep trying to call her and get no response.
I have almost given up hope when I get a call from Kayleigh’s cell. I answer quickly about to explain why I can’t talk when she says, “She is here. Curled up in her big brother’s arms, and she doesn’t even know why. I don’t think she even realizes she made this her first stop. Come get your girl, and make it right.”
When I walk in she is curled up on the couch, having cried herself to sleep. I take her earphones out of her ears and hear “Stupid Boy” by Keith Urban playing, and no truer words have been uttered about me. Mitch walks in the living room and looks at me like he is about to say something. I shake my head at him, letting him know I was wrong. I fucked it up, and I am going to fix it. I know I am his brother, but knowing Cambree came to him when she needed comfort and prote
ction has to be ripping him apart.
I sit on the couch and pull her in my arms. I just hold her and tell her how sorry I am while she sleeps. Hopefully she absorbs some of my apology, and I am taking all her pain away. She didn’t deserve that, and I was wrong.
She starts to stir, and when she opens her eyes she almost seems like she forgets what happened. Right then it all clicks, and I see it all in her eyes. I pull her tight and continue telling her I am sorry, and I don’t stop until I feel her hold me back. I pick her up and carry her out to my car. She doesn’t question me at all, and I realize what a gift I have with her trust, with her heart. I can’t abuse it.
When I get her home, I explain my irrational feelings, and apologize again. She seems to get it. She had the same issues with my past. I promise her my words will never hurt her again. I am not sure she believes me because later she makes me take her to her car so she can go home. I hope I haven’t torn down everything I had finally started building.
Chapter 24
Dustin
October 11, 2018
Today is the day Brent will be arrested. It is the day before Brielle turns twenty-five and Teryn’s eighteenth birthday. Once I get Teryn to the police station so she can give her statement, they can execute search warrants, and justice can be served. I can go home, and while that should thrill me, I can’t imagine leaving her here to face the hell alone. She has no support, no friends, and no family she knows of. She hasn’t been outside in almost sixteen years, a prisoner in her own home. She is socially awkward, but I can see all she can be just bubbling under the surface. With all the abuse she has been through at the hands of her own father, she has strength I have never seen. No matter what, she refuses to be broken.
The first day I broke in to the house and saw her for the first time, I swear my heart actually skipped a few beats, and I felt like I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. Not only was she so naturally beautiful, even with bruises marring her ivory skin, she had fire in her eyes. She was standing at one end of the hall, staring at me, and not backing down. She didn’t know what I was there for, but she faced me head on.
When she whispered, “Parker,” she gave away that she knew who I was. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing, and I was at a serious disadvantage not knowing who she was.
“Dustin,” I told her. “You are?”
“You are in my father’s house, I don’t think I owe you an explanation.” Shit, I was so sure I was screwed.
“Brent is your father?” I didn’t know what else to say. The shock has to be evident in my face, but the fear is stifling me. I came in this house blind, Mitch had warned me time and time again to stay under the radar and here I was flying high above it with a flashing red light on me. How did nobody know he had a daughter? The spawn of Satan is standing a few feet from me and all I can think of is how beautiful and fragile she seems.
I am sure her looks are deceiving though because nothing pure could come from that man. I should have let Mitch know what I was planning, because I am certain I am about to die a slow painful death, and my body will never be found. I hear her move closer, and I am frozen to the spot to see what her next move will be.
“Until someone kills him for being a son of a bitch, or he goes to prison, that is the title I get to use.” Holy shit, this girl is nothing like her father. I have to take a chance.
“I’m here to help that process along, either option works for me,” I tell her honestly.
Something flickers in her eyes. Hope, maybe. “How do I know you aren’t here to set me up? Not that my father needs any excuses to take his bad moods and paranoia out on me.” She points to the most prominent bruise on her cheek. Is this what Cambree looks like? I taste the bile in the back of my throat, but I have to get through this. She may be the break we need.
“Neither did my sister when your dad decided he wanted her kidnapped. I am sure you are both wearing matching bruises, although I refuse to see a picture for myself of her face,” I tell her honestly. I am a coward because I refused to let Mitch tell me how bad it was. I couldn’t stomach that everything I put my family through was for nothing.
I hear her quick intake of breath, but don’t see what her face looks like because I can’t meet her gaze. “Dustin,” I hear her call to me. I finally look up and see the most tender expression I have seen in months. “Follow me,” she says as she leads me down the hall to a heavy door with what looks like four different alarm panels on it. She shoots a devious look over her shoulder and goes about entering all kinds of codes and numbers into the keypads. It opens, and she leads me right to a desk in the middle of the room. “One thing . . . he isn’t is careful. He thinks he is untouchable and leaves all this shit on his desk. Take a look.”
I glance at papers but don’t know what I am looking at. I am so far out of my element, and I am sure I look like a dumbass in front of this girl, but it doesn’t even cross my mind. I just need answers. “What is this?”
“You don’t even know what you are looking for?” she asks me. Here I am breaking into her house, determined to find something to put her father away and yet I have no clue what evidence I am searching for. Did I expect a map leading me to his hidden secrets? Evidently I did. Her look of slight amusement but utter confusion shakes me out of my stupor.
I explain the story to her from the time Brielle was twelve until now. She listens and I see pain, indignation, sorrow, and anger pass across her face. She is so expressive. She couldn’t control her reactions if she tried.
“Take pictures and send them to whomever you trust that is working on this case, then you have about five minutes to get clear of here before he gets back.”
I freeze. It never dawned on me that she is here alone with him. “What about you?” She shakes her head.
“This is my prison for at least the next few weeks. Once I hit eighteen I like to tell myself that my options are limitless, but we both know that is a lie. I will be locked in here, just like every other day, until he is gone. One way or another.” The way she has just taken her situation and laid it out to me in such a calm and detached way stirs something in my gut. This man’s evil ways knows no limits. His own daughter.
I don’t feel like I can leave her. I don’t even know her name, but she needs help, and I can’t just walk away. I try and explain it to her. She tells me, “You don’t have a choice. Do what I told you to do, and come back tomorrow and tell me what your friend says. Maybe there will be a way out for all of us.” The hope in her voice is unmistakable, but her face remains neutral, like she doesn’t want to believe there may be a chance of her freedom.
I take pictures of all the papers she points to and realize she has been counting down until this moment. “Do you have a phone?” I ask her. Her empty laugh is my answer. She is a prisoner here and at the mercy of that bastard.
“Go, you need to be away from here so it remains safe for you,” she pleads with me. As I rush down the hall to the front door, like the coward I have become, I hear her call out, “Teryn.” I turn back and give her a puzzled look. “My name. It’s Teryn.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” I leave the house and vow I will make sure she comes out of this as unscathed as possible.
I went over there daily. After talking to Mitch and getting the plan of action from him, I shared with her, and with no hesitation, she agreed. It shouldn’t have surprised me she was willing to risk everything because she really doesn’t have anything. Her life, or what she is allowed to live is shallow and lived in fear. I tell her I think she is the most selfless person in the world. Here she is locked away like Rapunzel, except this isn’t a tower, and as far as I remember from watching that movie with Cambree, Rapunzel wasn’t abused at the hands of her father.
She just laughs at me and says, “This is purely selfish on my part. I will finally get away from him.” We pass the time with her listing her dreams to me, what she wants to do when she gets out, neither of us mentioning that most of tho
se things will be impossible. She has no identification. Mitch says that won’t be a problem, there has to be a record of her, and they will help her. Another problem is she doesn’t know if her mother is alive or who she is. She has no social skills, and besides her strength, she has no idea how to survive or behave outside of the house. I try and reaffirm she will have help, and support . . . but I don’t think she believes me. I don’t think she believes she will make it out of this house.
Luckily, she had schooling online and is very smart. She quietly told me one day she was scared about the future, having no skills, no money of her own. We both knew her father’s assets would be taken. I tried reassuring her that I would help. I had money. I had actually graduated a full year early. Brent had arranged that with private tutoring, and I tested out of every class. I spontaneously asked her to come home with me. I explained my family would welcome her, and she was doubtful. “Don’t forget who my father is,” she told me. Funny that of all things we could have in common, the one thing we agree on s regret for who our fathers are.
Parker Sibling Series Box Set Page 44
