by Marie Wathen
Rhys grunts, piercing me with all seriousness, “Has Tristan ever fucked Anna?”
I blush at his blatant question and really don’t want to reveal their private details, but Rhys’ serious tone and equally serious look seems to be out of concern and not morbid curiosity. Could he know something about what’s happening?
“No,” I reply, glancing down at my coffee cup, I hope my answer appeases him enough to change the subject, quickly.
“Shit,” Rhys snarls. I snap my eyes up and meet his, noticing a desire building in his eyes, like he really does know what is happening to Tristan, but can’t tell us. “I’m sorry Doll. When Sam gets back she can research it. Maybe she can come up with something to explain away all of this bullshit.”
Chewing nervously on my bottom lip, I nod in response and replay the unrecognizable look on Tristan’s face earlier, swallowing hard at the thought of him flirting with me and then doing who knows what with that bitch, Elise.
The sound of bare feet slapping on the tile floor draws me out of my painful thoughts and I glance over my shoulder toward the doorway. Tac walks in wearing black basketball shorts revealing long, tan legs, lightly covered with smooth, dark hair. His black tank reveals well sculpted biceps, and his dark hair is all messy and a little damp, from a recent shower.
He smiles at me before strolling over to the coffee pot and pouring a large cup. Tipping it back, he gulps it down black before pouring another cup and leaning his back against the counter facing us. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, but the coffee flows freely from the industrial size brewing station around the clock.
“Do we know when Sam and Marcus will be back?” Morgan asks.
“Naw, we’ve intentionally cut communications since they arrived at Key West. It’s just too risky with…”
Rhys trails off realizing he is telling Morgan more about their case involving Dr. A than he really needs to know. Before Morgan can push the issue, Tac reaches for the remote and turns up the volume on the television that is now flashing three pictures on the screen. One causal shot of Waverly, a beautiful graduation picture of Anna and a sad freshmen year photograph of me, the last organized picture I submitted to taking, each with “Update on Missing Local Women” stamped at the bottom of the still frame, silencing the room.
“…the Knight family increased the reward by an additional one million dollars for their daughter Anna today, bringing the total to five million for information that leads to her rescue. The Collins and Maxwell families also offer a hefty reward for their missing daughters Waverly and Breesan. A contribution of five million dollars for each young woman was made today by a party demanding to remain anonymous making the total for all three an astounding twenty-one million dollars. Unfortunately for the families of the three abducted women, no-one has made contact demanding a ransom in exchange for their safety. Tonight the latest developments in the case are heartbreaking. Baldwin county sheriff’s office along with the FBI released a statement a few moments ago that diminishes all hope in finding the young women. After conducting several interviews with witnesses, it appears that the women may have been taken by a well-known group with ties in human trafficking. For the past ten years, the Gulf Coast and Southern Atlantic region have seen a staggering increase in these types of missing person’s cases. Sadly, none of those women were ever located…”
Morgan growls out a string of cuss words under his breath. Tac shuts off the television, prohibiting me from hearing the rest of the report. Turning my eyes away from the black screen, I glance around at the men. They all are looking at me like I’m a piece of china, teetering on a shelf’s edge, about to plummet and shatter into tiny fragments right in front of their eyes. Although it wasn’t that long ago that their expectations were what my reaction to catastrophic news absolutely would be, today I am stronger and my resolve is set on finding Anna and Waverly.
“What?” I ask keeping my voice steady.
“Aren’t you going to pass out or vomit?” Rhys jokes.
“No,” I say rolling my eyes at him. “I’m fine, really.” Turning to Kole, I ask, “Do you know if there is any way we can find out more about this human trafficking ring?”
He smirks before responding, “Why? Are you going to hunt them down?”
Noticing that he answered my question with a question, I counter with, “Could we?”
All four men respond together, “No!”
Slumping down in my seat feeling defeated with them adamantly against the idea, I mumble, “Fine.”
At that very moment Tac’s cell phone begins ringing and the front door slams closed. Excusing himself to answer it in private, Tac taps on his phone’s screen and begins talking as he walks out the back porch door. Heavy clacking heals on the tile floor enters the kitchen and all heads turn in unison, finding a blubbering Ensley. Stopping after only a couple of inches inside the room, she looks surprised to see everyone here and wipes her tears away quickly. She has been staying with Tox for the past week and hasn’t been around to know that they are all pretty much staying here now.
“Beatrice, can I talk to you?” Looking around the table, she narrows her eyes on me, “Alone?”
I hear chairs sliding out, throats clearing and notice from the corner of my eye that the guys are all getting ready to leave. I hold up my hand for them to stay seated and rise up out of my chair.
“Let’s go up to my room.” I say.
After shutting my bedroom door, I sit on the edge of my bed and watch Ensley pace the length of the room like she’s nervous about whatever it is she wants to tell me. I know this can’t have anything to do with me, Ensley doesn’t have a clue who I am or what my real story is. She hasn’t watched television since she was a child and current events bore her. I’m curious about what has her so worked up, but I hate being nosey. No, the old Breesan felt that way.
“Are you alright?” I ask her, deciding to step out of my comfort zone.
“Hell no I’m not alright,” she snaps angrily. “Tox broke up with me.” She stops pacing, and narrows her eyes on me before asking, “Did he say anything to you last week about us?”
“What? No, of course not, your relationship never even came up. Why would you ask me that?” I ask defensively.
Crashing down beside me on the bed, she drops her face into her hands and moans pitifully. I’m not really sure what to say that will comfort her, so I wait. Ensley sniffs a couple of times, and runs her hand under her eyes, wiping away the last of her tears before speaking again.
“I’m a fucking mess,” she says, followed by a strangling laughter before adding, “I should have expected it. They always use me then dump me–every damn last one of them. Why did I fool myself into thinking Tox would be different?”
Her truly sad eyes look up at me, yearning for an answer, but I don’t know her or their relationship well enough to dish out advice.
“Ensley, I don’t have all the answers you’re searching for. I just recently went through my own crap so maybe I’m not the best person to talk to about your relationship.”
“No Beatrice, don’t you see? That is exactly what makes you the perfect person to talk to about it. You understand because you’ve been through your own bullshit with men. Just tell me what to do because right now all I want to do is cut his balls off. And that may not be the best idea.”
I suppress a maniacal laugh, believing that she may just be crazy enough to go through with that plan.
“Well, although it would be effective in stopping him from screwing over the next woman that comes along, it will probably get you sent off to prison.”
“Yeah, well,” she scoffs and counters, “because of that piece of shit I’ll probably never get out of jail once the feds find out that I’ve been cooking his books for the past year.”
“What do you mean Ensley?” Unfamiliar with the phrase, I tilt my head to the side and ask, “What did Tox make you do?”
“Actually, I did it for his dad, but that part is just a technic
ality. When the IRS catches wind of the trumped up tax forms I will be the one who serves the thirty years in prison for embezzling while Tox moves along with his recent conquests, both in the bedroom and in business. Ugh, I am so screwed!” She whines, flopping back across my bed.
“Wait. Let’s back up just a little. First, you said you were working for his dad, right?” She nods without looking at me.
“Does Tox know about any of the illegal stuff going on at his club?” I’m not trying to save the guys ass (or balls), but I think he deserves a fair shake.
“Hell, I don’t know Beatrice.” Slamming her arms against the mattress, she lifts her head up, angrily adding, “It is his club so I would think he knows what the hell is happening.”
“I don’t know about that. If his dad asked you to do it maybe Tox is clueless to the whole thing. Also, I don’t think you get thirty years in prison for this kind of thing.”
“Whatever. That is not the point. He dumped me for another woman and it’s only a matter of time before he gives me the boot or worse. He could frame me for this shit and be off on his merry way.”
“I’m sorry he did this to you Ensley. He seemed like a nice guy to me.”
“Yeah, that’s another thing. That night I was kind of bragging about–us,” She looks at me, and I notice her cheeks are turning red. “I lied.”
Confused, I ask, “Why would you need to lie to me about you having sex?”
“Ohgod, the truth is our relationship has been shit for a while. You told me that you weren’t looking for a man, but I thought that maybe after you met him you might find him irresistible. The first night he was back at the club, I made up that shit about our outrageous sex life, because I wanted you believing that we were together and happy, so that you wouldn’t try taking him. At the time it may have been a pretty stupid thing to think, but since that night he began really pushing me away. Then tonight he told me there was someone else.”
Her anger subsides and she’s sad again. I feel terrible for her, and I guess I can understand her reasoning, but damn if she doesn’t need to talk to a professional about all this craziness.
“The worst part,” her voice is just a whisper now, “I threw myself at him tonight, but he didn’t even look at me. Mygod Beatrice, I was in his office sitting there on the sofa completely nude, waiting for him.” Her voice picks up when she adds, “Do you believe that when the bastard walked in he barely glanced my direction. He walked straight over to his desk, picked up my clothes and told me to get dressed. Then he left me there. I’m so pathetic.”
“No, you weren’t. You were doing exactly what you thought was normal for your relationship. How can that be pathetic?”
“It hasn’t been normal for a long time. I think I knew there was someone for a while now. He used to give me all of his attention and then one day it just stopped.”
His dirty, rotten treatment of her ignites my agitation, “Tox was cheating on you?” I ask.
Sitting up, Ensley tucks in her legs, crosses her hands and places them in her lap. She stares at me a moment and then says, “I don’t think so. He was always such a gentleman with me when we were dating. Cheating isn’t his style. Besides, he was always working and I was usually with him. Unless he banged some bitch at the club while I was distracted, there wasn’t time for him to sleep around.”
I cringe at the thought of someone having sex in the club. It’s only ever held horrible memories for me.
“Ensley, when did you notice the first change in him?”
“The night his dad came to the club about a month ago. They have a volatile relationship and Tox turns into someone else when he drops by. Even as proud as he is of Toxic’s success, Tox loathes the fact that his dad bought the club. I can’t blame him. His dad is a snake in the grass.”
Remembering how he didn’t look pleased when I mentioned his dad, I mumble, “What I picked up on about their relationship was genuine then?”
“He told you about his dad?” Her eyes are bulging and utter shock consumers her features. “He never talks about him, not to me, or anyone. Hell, he can barely stand to speak to him.”
Holding my hand up, I stop her rambling before it turns into a thirty minute dissertation on how much Tox hates his father, and I just want more answers. I need to know if she has any information about the girls’ disappearance or Ryske, but how do I bring it up without her getting suspicious and blowing my cover?
“Fine, I get it. My problems aren’t your problems. Thanks for listening to me Beatrice.” She hops off my bed and mumbles, “Mygod I need a drink.”
Thank you Topic-Changing Ensley, for the perfect segue, “Or something stronger,” I suggest.
With her eyes glazing over from fatigue and heartache, she snorts and responds while stumbling toward the doorway, “Definitely.” Realizing what she did, she turns back to me and begins back tracking for giving herself away. “No, I didn’t mean…”
Nodding my head, I give her a look that means “busted.” Panic flashes across her face.
“Shit Beatrice, please don’t say anything to Rhys. He would toss me out on my ass and I don’t have anyone to turn to, especially now that Tox dumped me.” Standing in front of me again, her whole body trembles and she looks scared shitless.
“Calm down Ensley. I won’t tell Rhys, but how do you hide using from him?”
Huffing, she shrugs both shoulders and the corners of her dark red lips tip up, “I only use at the club to take the edge off. By the time I get home it’s late, Rhys is usually asleep and by then the effects are worn off.” She’s definitely proud that she has Rhys snowed.
“In that case, maybe I should try it. Since breaking up with Jeff all I’ve been is on the edge.”
“No, you can’t.” Dramatically shaking her head, she rushes her words together. “It’s so addictive and if you try it once you’ll be hooked. Plus, it is way worse than anything you’ve ever heard of, trust me. Beatrice, promise me that you won’t touch that shit, please. If someone offers you a chance to try Ryske, don’t just say no–run!”
Bingo! I smile sweetly at her, taking her hand in mine, hoping the gesture calms her. “Okay, Ensley. I believe you. I won’t ever try Ryske. I swear it.”
“Damn. That’s good. And remember, please don’t tell Rhys.”
“Hey Ensley, just so I don’t get mixed up with the wrong person, who is the hook up at the club?”
“OH NO that I will not tell you. I’ll be hanging the noose around my own neck. You just keep working like you do, and don’t take anything from anyone. Rhys would be the one to string us up if something happens to you while you work for me.”
Resigning that she won’t tell me anymore, I nod and scoot off the bed to go back downstairs, “Fine.”
Ensley tells me goodnight and goes to her room while I make my way back to the kitchen. Walking down the hallway, I can hear all of the guys talking and their voices are all elevated, which is not unusual. However, what is unusual is when I join them they all stop talking, like they didn’t want me to know what they were discussing; but they know me too well already.
Apparently, Tac drew the short straw and is chosen as the bearer of bad news. I know by the way they are all trying not to look at me they are hiding something. Whatever it is it can’t be good. Lately, all of the news they give me is bad.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Marcus
“I’m not kidding, Sam. The minute we dock I’m driving. You can just get over it,” I tell her as our boat approaches the harbor back at Willow Island.
“That’s my baby,” she kicks the inside wall of the deck and glares at me. “If you put one scratch on it I will beat your ass, Marcus.” She crosses her arms and slams down on the seat next to the deck rail.
“Thanks sis, I just need to get to Breesan now.”
“I guarantee they already told her,” Sam says with strong belief in her suggestion.
“No,” I grunt, keeping my eyes glued on the approaching pier. “
Kole assured me that they would wait and let me tell her.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Sam laughs. “They are worse than girls about keeping a secret. Believe me, I’ve been around Kole, Rhys and Morgan enough to know that given the chance they will spill their guts about everything, especially if they are drinking. And if they’re not all drinking, they are going to act all weird. Breesan isn’t stupid. She will catch on and demand they tell her.”
“I spoke with Kole half an hour ago and he said she went upstairs with Ensley, who was apparently in meltdown mode so Breesan could be stuck with her craziness for hours.” I hope that’s the case anyway. I need to be the one to tell her about the murder.
That was the last thing I expected to happen after speaking with Julia the other night. She insisted that I find Breesan immediately. I did everything I could think of to make her slip up and reveal to me that she was behind everything, but nothing worked. I wonder if she suspected at all that after our conversation another body would be discovered.
After only a few minutes and some tight maneuvering, our boat docks. We jump off, hustling toward Sam’s brand new silver Camaro, sitting backed into a covered parking deck draped with a waterproof cover. She really does baby this car and I can appreciate that, but I’m about to burn the rubber off the wheels to get to Breesan.
With very little complaints from my sister, we arrive at Rhys’ and I run as fast as my legs will carry me up the front steps, bursting through the door. I hear voices that sound like they are coming from the kitchen. I rush down the hallway and scan the room for gray eyes. Sitting on the counter, tucked in the corner beside the refrigerator, Breesan has a necklace pinched between her lips. With shock marking her face, she is lost in deep thoughts focusing on the floor while she drags a small charm slowly along the chain. Clearly someone has told her already.
My heavy breathing prevents me from speaking, but I don’t need to say a word. Her eyes lift up to greet me, as if she could sense me before she could hear or see me. Wide gray eyes melt into pools the second she realizes that I am here. I bolt across the room and clutch her delicate, warm body to mine. She nuzzles her face into the crook of my neck, drawing in a deep breath and then relaxing into me.
