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Exposed

Page 14

by Brighton Walsh


  “You haven’t slept good for days. I guess I need to work harder to wear you out.”

  She turned her head back to smile at me, but she was distracted, her gaze flitting right back to the computer.

  “You find anything?”

  “Um … maybe…” She flew through the data on the screen, switching programs and scrolling through everything faster than I could even comprehend what she was looking at in the first place.

  Raising my eyebrows, I asked, “What do you mean, maybe?” Maybe was better than nothing, and after all day yesterday of nothing but dead end after dead end, I’d take a maybe.

  She pressed a couple keys on the keyboard, then turned her head toward me. “I found a tiny error in the records, so I’m digging into it further, seeing if it leads us to anything.” Moving her attention back to the laptop, she started going through the information again. “It’s gotta be in here somewhere … I know it…” She brought her hand up to her mouth, biting on her thumbnail as she searched through Max’s accounting records. I had no idea how they’d gotten access to them in the first place, but I wasn’t going to ask. Aaron could do just about anything with a computer, and Evie was a fast learner.

  Not wanting to distract her, I headed into the kitchen. As I was pouring a cup of coffee, the sound of my cell phone ringing filled the loft. Evie must’ve had it by her on the couch. She answered it on speakerphone, and Aaron’s voice came across the line. “Hey, you find anything?” he asked.

  “Yeah, actually. There’s a small discrepancy and I’m following that, hoping it leads to what we’re looking for. What about you?”

  “Not a goddamn thing.”

  I grabbed my coffee and headed to the couch, sitting down beside her as she rambled on to Aaron about the error she’d managed to uncover. When Evie said, “Holy shit,” I knew she’d found something.

  “What?” I asked, leaning closer.

  She was reading from the screen, talking to Aaron and me at the same time. “Do you see it? All those transfers to Ipsum Technology?”

  Aaron hummed on the other end until suddenly he said, “Got it.” There was a pause, the sound of keys clacking on his end, then he breathed out a curse. “That company has generic information online, a static front page with nothing else. Probably enough to fool most people who randomly come across it, but what supposed multimillion-dollar company doesn’t even have a contact page?”

  “It’s a front,” Evie said.

  “That’s my guess. Have you added up all the deposits? How far back does it go?”

  “I’m tracing it back now and doing the figures,” she mumbled as her fingers flew over the number keys, adding up the data she’d found. When she suddenly stopped, I looked over at her, and she was staring at the screen, her mouth open. She turned to me, her eyes wide. “He’s been doing it the whole time, skimming in frequent small amounts.”

  “What’s the total?” I asked.

  She huffed out a laugh and shook her head, glancing back at the screen. “Twelve point seven million.”

  “Holy fuck,” I said, leaning toward her and seeing the numbers right there in front of me.

  “We’ve finally got the bastard.” She relaxed back into the couch cushions, running a hand through her hair. “I can’t believe we got him.”

  “Nice work, Evie,” Aaron said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not over yet.” Evie’s relaxed posture disappeared as she leaned toward the phone again, her eyes back on the computer screen. “Not even close. Now we need to figure out what the hell we’re going to do with the information. Knowing it and using it to get Max to back off are two different things.”

  “Well, whatever you do, you need to do it fast,” Aaron said. “I was calling this morning for more than just this.”

  Aaron’s voice had gone hard, all business, and I straightened up. “Why, what’s happening there?” Even as I asked, I thought about what it’d be like for us if we didn’t have someone willing to work both sides like Aaron was. If we didn’t have someone there who still had access inside the crew, who had the rank and the expertise—who had the trust of Max to be in on everything he was doing, all the directives he was handing out. Aaron was instrumental in every step we’d taken, from the very first one letting me know Evie had been in trouble until now. I had no idea where we’d be without him.

  “Max is having Jade make a visit to Evie’s parents.”

  She stiffened beside me, her back going rigid, every inch of her body freezing at Aaron’s words.

  “When?” I asked.

  “Today … later this afternoon.”

  “Why? What’s her directive?”

  “Just recon right now. He wants Jade to get a feel for what they know about Evie, if they know anything.”

  “They don’t,” Evie finally said, her voice hard. “They don’t, and they’re not going to.”

  I glanced over at her, remembering how adamant she’d been when we’d first gotten here that they were never to know she was still alive. “Evie … Maybe we need to contact them. Warn them what’s coming.”

  “No,” she snapped.

  Before I could ask her more about it, Aaron cut in. “I have to agree with her, Kid. At least for right now. Jade is just going to get information, posing as an old friend of Evie’s, so they shouldn’t think anything’s up. Not yet, anyway.”

  Blowing out a breath, I tugged at my hair. “Well, yeah, that’s fine for now, but what about when Max gets desperate? I think we should be prepared to warn them.”

  Evie stood from the couch and spun around so she was facing me, her eyes narrowed. “No one is warning them. None of you are speaking to them, period.”

  “Evie, I’m not talking about now. I’m talking about when shit starts getting real. When we think Max might go after them just to flush you out.”

  “Then let him go after them.” Her voice was so chilling, so cold, I barely recognized it.

  I stared at her, at her set jaw, her rigid shoulders, the clench of her fists, the hard look in her eyes. Shaking my head, I said, “Think about what you’re saying…”

  She didn’t even pause as she said, “I don’t need to think about it. I’ve thought about it a hundred times—a thousand times over the past five years. No one is going to call and tell them anything, at any time. Ever, no matter the circumstances. As far as they know, I died five years ago, and I’m going to stay dead to them. Is that clear to you both?”

  “Evie…”

  “I said no, Riley. Now fucking drop it.”

  EVIE

  I stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, breathing a sigh of relief as I leaned back against it. Thankful that in this loft that had little to no privacy, I at least had this. This small piece of solitude.

  And I needed it.

  I’d do just about anything to keep Riley from seeing me like this, from seeing me break down. Seeing me crumble. And I knew it was coming, could feel it lurking under my skin, bubbling up until it had nowhere to go but out. I couldn’t predict how the flashbacks would come to me. If they’d blindside me during the day, sneak up on me while I was doing something menial and transport me back to the place I never wanted to go. Or if they’d come to me in my sleep, like they so often did. After fighting sleep for so long, I’d eventually have to succumb to it, and then I was helpless to stop them. And those were the worst ones, when they came to me in my dreams. Because it was like living it all over again …

  Even though I’d known Riley around the time that everything had changed, it had started happening several months before I’d met him, and he’d never known anything about it. Why I had trouble sleeping. Why I didn’t like to be snuck up on. Why I hated bear hugs. Why I liked being in control. He didn’t know the reason for any of it. And he’d never questioned it.

  He’d known something was off, of course. He would’ve had to have been blind not to, especially since after we started hooking up, I stayed with him most nights. Anything to escape. The nightmares
had been worse back then, near nightly, and I’d been lucky Riley had been a heavy sleeper, unaware of the torment my mind caused me. I could never predict when they’d come on. They were always awful, though, making me a victim all over again, only at that time, when it’d be my dreams holding me hostage, it was my mind to which I’d become a victim, and I hated that I’d had that stolen from me, too.

  While I’d never had an idealistic childhood, the kind with Sunday mornings in bed reading the paper and birthday parties in a backyard surrounded by a white picket fence, what I had experienced had been okay. Not great, but okay.

  We’d never been very well-off, both my parents working full-time and picking up extra shifts whenever they could in hopes of getting even a little bit ahead. And while initially they had tried to keep it from me, I’d always known we lived paycheck to paycheck. But it had been fine. It’d been a struggle sometimes, sure, embarrassing when I’d have friends over and we didn’t have any food in the house or our cable had been shut off because the bill hadn’t been paid. But even with the embarrassment, it had been fine.

  Until suddenly it wasn’t.

  Until suddenly the walls felt too close, the rooms too small, the scents and sounds and looks all too much, and I never wanted to be home. Did everything in my power so I wouldn’t have to be.

  I couldn’t even pinpoint one specific thing, because suddenly it was like an avalanche of shit was falling on us, falling on me, and I was drowning under it all. I’d started high school, a different one than most of my friends. My dad had lost his job, gotten laid off after seventeen years at the same company. And my mom had to switch to third shift for the higher pay, just so we could afford to stay in our small, shitty house and be able to buy groceries.

  It was like one week everything had been normal—not great, not particularly picturesque, but normal for us. And then the next, I was skipping school and getting involved with the crew just so I’d have a place to go, something to do so I wouldn’t have to go home.

  What I hadn’t anticipated finding was the power trip I’d gotten with every job Max had sent me on. And I definitely hadn’t anticipated that I’d eventually come to crave that power.

  Crave the power that had been stripped from me in the months prior.

  It had been the worst time of my life, the dozens of months that shaped the very person I was today, and I hated that I’d let that time mold me, but how could I not? Every decision I’d made, every path I’d taken, had been a direct result of that.

  The only good thing that had come out of that time was that I’d met Riley. He’d come into my life, slipped into the dark places casting shadows over me, and been a tiny bit of light. A sunburst on my gray days.

  But it was always tainted, because no matter how good Riley made me feel, how safe and secure, how in control, it had always come crashing down when I’d been away from him. When I’d had no choice but to go home. Go back to my house, to the place where my dreams turned into nightmares.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  RILEY

  By the time Evie came out of the bathroom, I’d long since hung up with Aaron, telling him we’d be in touch later to figure out how we wanted to proceed. And that, for now, to let Jade go to Evie’s parents as planned. I’d follow Evie’s wishes for the time being, but she was going to tell me what the fuck was going on.

  As her footsteps came closer, I asked, “What was that all about?”

  Except when she came around the front of the couch to face me, she didn’t answer. Instead, she unzipped her hoodie and tossed it on the couch. I raised my eyebrows as she undressed in front of me, slipping off her pants and throwing them next to her sweatshirt, until she was standing there in the outfit that had filled my dreams for three nights now—a thin tank top and those tiny shorts. As sexy as it was, though, I couldn’t concentrate on what she was offering, too focused on what the hell was going on with her.

  I blew out a sigh and reached up, scratching my jaw. “Look, I get that you’re hoping for a distraction, and, baby, you know I will give it to you. A hundred times. Fucking you isn’t exactly a hardship. But before I do, I wanna know why the hell you’re so pissed, what it is you’re trying to ignore.”

  “Get up,” she said. Ordered, really.

  Huffing out a laugh, I just stared at her, thinking she couldn’t be serious with this shit.

  “Now, Riley. Get up.”

  It was obvious she was itching for a fight, and after seeing her strip down to next to nothing, it was clear she wanted to spar to work off some of that energy. I stood from the couch, reached back, and tugged my shirt over my head, leaving my running pants on. “Fine. But we’re going to talk about this. As soon as you get this out of your system, you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.”

  She didn’t give me any warning, no tell on her face, before she came at me with jabs and kicks, everything in quick succession. It was challenging to keep up with her, her smaller size giving her an advantage, but she still didn’t have my strength or my years of training. Despite the fact that she wasn’t holding back, I made sure to keep myself in check, giving her enough leeway that she could get this out of her system without getting hurt in the process.

  When she came at me with a roundhouse kick to the side—one I barely dodged—I progressed on her, forcing her to move back. “Now you’re just pissing me off. Quit trying to attack me, and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  She didn’t answer in anything but more jabs and kicks, and this time, when she went for a roundhouse kick again, I knew it was coming and dodged it, then spun and grabbed her arm, pulling it behind her as I gripped her with my other arm and held her to my chest, both her arms pinned to her sides. “What the fuck has you so worked up?”

  Without answering, she dropped her weight, throwing me off balance and allowing her room to wiggle from my grasp—the exact move I taught her to get free. The aggression in her face wasn’t any less, and I didn’t let her get very far before I took the opening she wasn’t even aware she gave me and pinned her face-first to the wall, much like I had at her house. We were both breathing heavily, my chest brushing along her back with each inhale, and I used this time to take stock of my body. My ribs ached, my shins, too. She’d managed to get in a few solid kicks. I’d be sore as hell tomorrow. All in all, a great sparring session. If she wasn’t pissed as hell and taking that out on me.

  “Have you had enough?” I asked in her ear.

  EVIE

  How could I answer him? I’d thought sparring would help. Feeling that rush of power when I’d gotten out of one of Riley’s holds, when I’d managed to surprise him, but it hadn’t helped. It hadn’t been enough. This need I felt … this compulsion to get the control I craved, hadn’t yet been satisfied.

  And I only knew one way I could rectify that.

  Before Riley could ask again, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my mouth to his, tugging his lip with my teeth. He groaned, easing off me so I could turn, and then his hands were cupping my face, the kiss clumsy and harsh and bruising, and I didn’t care. I scratched my nails down his chest, digging into his skin, leaving stripes of red along the way. I wanted to mark him up, remind him—remind myself—that I was the one doing it. That I had the power to.

  Riley met me every step of the way, giving back as good as he got, his teeth nipping my lips, his fingers digging into my ass, and I loved it.

  “You want it rough?” he asked against my mouth, hauling me up against him and grinding his erection into me. “Is that what this is about? You want me to fuck you hard?”

  No. I wanted to fuck him hard. I wanted it faster. Rougher. More intense.

  I wanted something more than what I had now because it wasn’t helping. I needed something, anything, so I could feel in control again. So this helplessness wouldn’t eat me alive.

  Pressing my hands to his bare chest, I pushed, forcing him backward until his knees hit the couch and he toppled down. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking
me down next to him, and then he rolled, pinning me between the arm of the couch and his body. And even though I wasn’t really trapped, even though I could easily slip out, that panic inched its way up my chest, cold fingers grappling at my throat. I had to close my eyes and remind myself that this was okay. Everything was okay.

  This was Riley. It was just Riley.

  And I wanted it. I wanted him.

  I thought—hoped—that would be enough. That it’d be like the other times I’d felt like this, when I’d been able to gain control and let my memories slip down deep where they belonged. Except it wasn’t like every other time, because when he leaned into me, the hard ridges of his body pushing down along mine, pressing me into the arm of the couch, it wasn’t his body I felt. It was another one instead. And even though Riley wasn’t pinning me until I couldn’t move, my mind conjured up the last time I had been pinned down, held in place. Held there so I couldn’t struggle … couldn’t even move.

  And I tried so hard to stay present. Did everything I could think of to try and stay in the moment. I breathed through it, pushing back that panic creeping up my spine, but it didn’t help. No matter how many times I said it in my mind, how many times I breathed in Riley’s scent, knowing it wasn’t stale smoke and spicy cologne, that it wasn’t the scent that could still manage to make me sick, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because I felt the memory of someone else’s hands on my stomach, on my breasts. Someone else’s lips on my mouth, my neck, my chest.

  Clenching my eyes shut, I repeated to myself a hundred times that this was Riley. This was Riley and this was my choice and everything was fine. But my body and brain weren’t communicating, and despite the words repeating over and over in my head, I couldn’t stop the images of so long ago from coming back to me. Bombarding me. Consuming me. And with each flash in my mind, my breathing got faster. Harsher. Until Riley finally noticed, pulling back.

 

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