“What do you want to know?” he asked.
“How many were there, what was in them…”
I already knew the answer, but I was interested in what he had to tell me about them.
“It started a few months ago, I guess. A lot of people reached out after I denounced my father’s stance on gay marriage. Some of them commended me, others didn’t,” he hedged.
“Were there any people from your father’s constituency that contacted you?”
“Dozens,” he said quietly. “Even people I’d thought were friends began calling and telling me the same thing. That I was confused about Brody…that I was letting the fact that he was my brother overpower my loyalty to God. Said it was the devil’s lure.” Nathan laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That was always my father’s answer to anything that didn’t go his way. Devil’s lure. It was as common a phrase in our house as Praise the Lord and Amen.”
“Did any of the people threaten you with bodily harm?” I asked.
“My girlfriend at the time chucked a vase at my head after I told her to get the fuck out of my house. Does that count?”
I smiled despite myself. “She didn’t like the new Nathan Wilder?” I asked.
“Not sure she even liked the old Nathan,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
Nathan shook his head. “She was a prop,” he said. “Just like everything else in my life at the time.” He went quiet for a moment before saying, “Anyway, when she jumped on the “Blame it on Brody” bandwagon, I told her we were done. She tried to brain me with the vase, called me all sorts of very un-Southern-Belle-like names and stormed out of my house. Haven’t seen her since.”
“What about once the furor died down?”
“After a few weeks, there was just one left. [email protected],” Nathan murmured.
“Tell me about the emails.”
He turned his head to look out the window. “It seemed like the typical stuff at first. Ranting about how I was going to hell if I didn’t repent. After a while I didn’t even read the whole message.”
“Did you ever respond?”
He shook his head. “Figured that would just encourage him.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“No.”
“What about your campaign manager?”
“Preston would have freaked,” Nathan responded. “He’s seen a lot of shit in this business, so I knew he’d figure it was one of my rivals and insist we retaliate in some way.”
“So much for running a clean campaign,” I said.
“Hey,” Nathan said, his voice carrying an edge to it. I looked over at him.
“Any chance you can wait until after I finish my coffee before you start bashing me and my entire profession?” The anger glittering in his eyes had my dick tightening in my pants. God, I was so fucked.
“I make no promises,” I replied, but kept my voice light. The effect was devastating because I saw Nathan’s lips inch up just a little before he dropped his gaze.
Hell, what would he look like when he full-on smiled? And not that fake smile he wore in his campaign photographs or whenever there was a camera pointed in his direction.
“I’m not interested in running a campaign that’s based on mudslinging, even if that’s the norm. So I didn’t tell Preston about the emails. Besides, those emails were sent to my personal email address, not my campaign one.”
“Who has your personal email address?” I asked.
“Preston, a few trusted staffers, my mother.”
“Your mother? What about your father?”
If I hadn’t looked over at him at the exact right time, I would have missed the stiffness in his frame. When he saw me looking at him, he forced his body to relax and said, “My father’s not big on technology…devil’s lure, remember?”
“You’re lying,” I said without preamble. “None of this works if you lie to me, Nate.”
He held my gaze briefly and then hardened his jaw before looking away. “I don’t even know what this is.”
“This is me trying to keep you alive so you can-”
“Vincent, I swear to God, if you make one more crack about me lying to people to get votes…”
He shook his head and put his hand to his mouth as if to stop himself from continuing the sentence.
“I was going to say see your brother again,” I remarked.
His eyes shifted briefly to me before returning to look out the window. Several minutes passed before he said, “My father is in the early stages of dementia. He isn’t lucid for long enough periods to do something like email me, and I doubt he checks my mother’s email account for anything.”
His declaration surprised me, since I hadn’t seen any stories about Chandler Wilder’s declining mental health in the news. And something like that would have made the news. After all, the man had etched his name into history by defying the Supreme Court’s ruling making gay marriage legal. He’d gone so far as to order the county clerks in his state not to issue marriage licenses. He’d eventually caved, but the high-profile nature of the case had made him a household name and he’d become a political lightning rod. The fact that his mental health was on a rapid decline would have been a significant story.
“It’s being kept secret?” I asked.
Nathan nodded. “My mother moved him to Louisiana. Her sister lives there. The few people in his inner circle who know have convinced his supporters that he’s chosen an early retirement so he can reaffirm his commitment to God. People are convinced Brody’s and my defection have him seeking solace in his faith.”
“Would your mother give out your email?” I asked.
He was silent for a moment before saying, “I’d like to believe she wouldn’t, but I can’t be sure.”
The words were enough to tell me there was more to the story there, but I didn’t press him. It was irrelevant anyway. If the guy emailing Nathan had enough skill to mask his IP address, he sure as shit had enough skill to find his personal email without any help.
“When did the emails start mentioning Brody?” I asked.
“About a month after they started. The first one said if I continued on the course I was on, I’d burn in hell like my…like Brody.”
“That’s not what it said,” I said.
Nathan’s eyes jerked to mine. “What?”
“Beck’s uncle told me what the emails said,” I lied, since I wasn’t ready to tell him I’d read the email myself. “It said you’d burn in hell like your faggot brother.”
Nathan closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “Don’t,” he whispered.
“Don’t what?” I asked.
“Don’t use that word. Please.”
I knew which word he was talking about, of course. What I didn’t know was why it bothered him so much. Yeah, it was ugly and cruel, but it was reality. I’d been called that very word more times than I could count, and I had no doubt Nathan’s brother had, too.
“It’s just a word, Nathan.”
“It’s not,” he said harshly as he fisted his hands on his thighs. His reaction was over the top. I considered him for a moment before understanding dawned.
“You called him that, didn’t you?” I asked gently.
“I can’t,” he whispered. I saw him dash at his eyes just before he turned away to look out the window. Before I could stop myself, I reached out to cover one of his fisted hands with mine.
“I won’t say it again, okay?”
He nodded, but it took several long seconds of me rubbing his clenched fingers before he relaxed his hand until it was spread palm down on his thigh. I’d already settled my hand on top of his before I realized what I was doing and jerked it away from him. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice.
“What did you do when you saw that first email?”
“I panicked,” he said. “I didn’t know where Brody was. After he…after he came out to our family, he moved away. We didn’t keep in touch, so I didn’t know where he’d gon
e at first. Some reporters eventually found him in Florida when the shit with my father and the Supreme Court ruling happened, but I didn’t reach out to him at the time. After the email, I hired a private investigator to find him.”
“And when you got the second email?” I probed.
“I freaked because the guy talked about going to talk to Brody. I knew if I could find him using a private investigator, he could too.”
“So you went to Dare to warn him.”
He nodded. “I knew it was a risk, but I had to take it.”
“Risk?” I asked.
“That the guy would follow me there. I did my best to cover my tracks…I didn’t use my email or anything to make the reservation for the flight. I just went to the airport and got a ticket for the flight to Montana. My assistant put the rental car in her name, stuff like that.”
“Were there any other emails referencing Brody?”
“A couple, but just more of the same stuff. Warnings about me being on the wrong path and that it was Brody’s fault.”
“Was it ever more than just the emails?” I asked.
I only knew about the vandalized car, but when Nathan paled, I knew there was more.
“Tell me,” I murmured as I put my hand on his again. I was stunned when he wrapped his fingers around mine briefly before moving his hand away.
“I’m not sure about some of the stuff,” he hedged.
“Tell me anyway. Every little bit helps.”
“Um, I started noticing little things around the house every now and then. A book on the bookshelf pulled out just a little bit farther than the rest, a glass left out on the counter on days when my housekeeper wasn’t scheduled to stop by, a favorite tie clip or cufflinks going missing…I just thought it was me being forgetful.”
“What else?”
“A flat tire now and again, missing mail and packages…all things that could be explained away.”
“When did you know something had changed?”
Nathan hesitated before saying, “I came home one night and found...I found the body of this stray cat I used to sometimes feed just outside my patio door. Its neck had been broken.”
I stiffened at that.
“Did you tell someone?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why the fuck not?” I snapped. When he didn’t answer me, I said, “Did the cat happen before or after you went to Dare?”
“Before…I left the very next day. The second email about the guy going after Brody had come that morning.”
“You didn’t tell Brody about the cat, did you? Or the other stuff?”
Nathan shook his head.
“Why not?”
“Because I knew what he would have done if I had. As much as he hated me, I knew he’d still have my back. He was always a better man than me.”
“And you didn’t want to risk putting him in further danger,” I murmured.
“Of course not. I don’t…I don’t get a pass on what I did to him because of all this,” Nathan snapped as he motioned between us. “I could see it in his eyes when I left,” he murmured.
“See what?”
“That he was going to forgive me.”
“And that’s so bad why?” I asked.
“Because what I did was unforgivable.” His voice was so thick with regret I felt my own throat tighten in response.
“Nate-”
“It’s Nathan!” Nathan snapped, his voice raw. “Are we done?” he asked as his pain-filled eyes turned to meet mine.
I wasn’t done, but I knew he was. “We’re done,” I acknowledged.
He didn’t say anything; he just turned his gaze back out the window. We didn’t speak again until I pulled the car past the heavy iron gate at the end of my driveway.
Chapter 7
Nathan
Vincent’s house wasn’t anything like I expected. For starters, I’d expected a log cabin or something since the house was located deep in the woods. But the structure looked quite modern and although it wasn’t huge, it was a decent size and had two stories from what I could see. The iron gate at the end of the driveway was actually the first of two gates, and I noticed they were timed so that the second gate didn’t open until the first one closed. I had to wonder if it was some kind of additional security measure. There were keypads and security cameras for both gates and I could see that, like with the gates, there were two fences running along the front of the property. The fences were made of the same iron as the gates.
Vincent pulled the car into one of the stalls in the attached three-car garage and immediately closed the door behind us. Lights came on above us as the door closed so I could easily see a big SUV parked in the second stall. The third stall had a motorcycle in it.
“Do you…do you live alone?” I asked.
Vincent merely nodded and got out of the car. As I grabbed my bag from the back seat, Vincent pulled his own bag plus a much larger one from the trunk. Up a short flight of stairs were several wooden workbenches along the front of the garage. I followed Vincent and watched him set the bag on one of the workbenches next to a large metal cabinet. The bag was open enough that I could see it was filled with all sorts of guns. Vincent went to the cabinet, placed his finger on a small keypad next to the handle, and waited. Seconds later, the entire front of the cabinet slid up to reveal a slew of guns, knives, and other weapons I couldn’t identify hanging from brackets on the wall.
What the hell?
Vincent put the bag in the cabinet and then pressed a button on the inside of it which caused the door to slide back down again.
I glanced at the two identical cabinets next to the first one, but kept from asking if they were filled to the brim with weapons too. I kind of didn’t want to know.
I followed Vincent to the only door in the garage. He used his finger on the keypad to open that door, too, and then he motioned me inside.
“What, no alarm?” I asked jokingly once I stepped inside and was met with silence.
Vincent shot me a glance and then pulled out his phone and showed me the screen. The phone was vibrating as my image appeared on the screen. I automatically looked up to try and find the security camera that was watching me, but I couldn’t see it.
“Alarms that make a lot of noise are meant to scare an intruder off. Where’s the fun in that?” he asked. I noticed Vincent’s watch was flashing and I could hear the slightest vibration emanating from it. There was a letter and number flashing on the watch’s digital screen.
“What does it mean?” I asked as I pointed to the watch.
“Tells me where my guest – wanted or unwanted – is.”
“Doesn’t that get old?” I asked. “Having it go off every time you move?”
“It knows I belong here,” was all he said, and then he was leading me down a short hallway. We entered a large kitchen with white granite countertops, white cabinets, and black appliances.
No sooner had Vincent put his bag down than a large orange tabby cat jumped up on the counter and immediately put his paws against Vincent’s chest. The sight of the man’s big fingers affectionately rubbing the animal’s cheeks had my insides warming.
“Mickey,” Vincent said as he motioned to the cat. “And Minnie,” he added as he glanced to our right. Sure enough, a second cat that looked almost identical to the first except for a small patch of white on its forehead was watching us from the entryway that appeared to lead to the rest of the house.
“Mickey and Minnie?” I asked with a smile.
“My boyfriend had a thing for all things Disney when we got them,” he said simply. The mention of a boyfriend caught me off guard, especially since he’d said he lived alone. But the dark look that flashed in his eyes for the briefest of moments had me keeping silent.
“Outer fence is electrified 24/7, inner fence is only at night,” Vincent began as he grabbed his bag and headed towards the doorway where the cat was still sitting. He stopped long enough to run his fingers over the
cat’s head. I reached for my own bag and followed. The kitchen opened into a large, open floor concept living room with black leather furniture, and a flat screen TV hung above the huge fireplace. Light streamed in through the large windows facing the back of the property as well as through the skylights in the vaulted ceiling. “Glass is bulletproof,” Vincent continued as we walked. He stepped into a room just past the living room. It was a spacious office with several computer monitors on the wall along one desk, and a single monitor and desktop computer on the other side of the desk. Vincent went to one of the drawers and pulled something out. He tapped some keys on the keyboard of the computer, then did something with his phone before coming to me. I finally realized it was a watch similar to the one he was wearing.
“Leave this on. It’s waterproof,” he said as he handed it to me. “It has a tracking device in it so I’ll know where you are even when you’re not in the house.”
“I’m allowed outside?” I asked snidely.
He sent me a dark look. “If there’s a threat from the air or along the perimeter, the watch will notify you. Get your ass back in the house if that happens. I’ll show you the entry points once we’re outside.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Is all this really necessary?” I asked. “Surely he can’t find me here.”
But Vincent didn’t respond, and it occurred to me why. “It’s not about me, is it?” I asked as I once again looked at the monitors.
“The bedrooms are upstairs. If something happens, we go into lockdown mode.”
“Lockdown?” I asked, but before I could even ask what he meant, he hit a button on his watch and I jumped as a heavy piece of metal slid over the only window in the room as well as the skylight above us, pitching us into darkness. Similar sounds rattled outside the room and when I followed Vincent out the door, I saw the house was almost completely dark except for lights along the floorboards that came on and turned off as we moved, illuminating only a few feet in front of and behind us at a time.
“Jesus,” I muttered. “Who the hell are you?”
“The only way out of the house during lockdown mode is through this door,” Vincent explained as we reached what looked like an ordinary closet at first. He pushed the jackets aside and then took my hand and put it near the back wall and the panel instantly slid open. “The watch controls the door.” Vincent took me by the wrist and led me into the small space that was barely big enough for the two of us. The panel slid closed behind us and dim lights illuminated a narrow walkway that led to some stairs. “See that ladder?” I followed his finger to my right and nodded. “The closet upstairs is identical to this one,” – he motioned over his shoulder to the closet behind us – “except you have to climb down the ladder to get here. Follow this corridor and down those stairs, through the hall to another set of stairs. You’ll end up in the garage. There’s a trapdoor beneath the SUV. There’s an extra set of keys to the SUV and a gun taped to the trapdoor. The garage door won’t open in lockdown mode, but as soon as you open the trapdoor, the locks on the door will silently disengage so you’ll be able to use the SUV to break the door down-”
Defiance (The Protectors, Book 9) Page 7
