by McLean, Jay
I sit on the couch opposite her and set the plate on my lap. I remember Ky’s words from earlier: There’s nothing wrong with loving two people in one lifetime. And Nate—he loved us both. And so I find the courage to do something I know would make him proud. I build a bridge. “I heard about your dad. I’m sorry, Ashton. Hopefully, they’ll find him soon.”
Ashton stares at me, right into me. Then she blinks once. Twice. She glances at Tiny quickly, before motioning to the couch beneath me. “You should take a seat, agents.”
Without a word, both Perceval and Brent sit beside me, one on each side. I chance a peek at Tiny, but he’s too busy stuffing his face with tacos. Meanwhile, Ashton gets more comfortable, tucking her short legs beneath her. “My dad wasn’t always nice to me. I guess I shouldn’t have expected a lot, considering I grew up watching the way he treated my mother.” She pauses a beat. “The first time I remember meeting Nate was at her funeral. I was eight years old. He was ten. I had heart-eyes the moment I saw him, but…” She smiles at the memory, but it disappears quickly. “The next time I saw him was at his mother’s funeral. We never really spoke to each other. All the business our dads did was behind closed doors. It wasn’t meant for children’s eyes or ears. At least not mine.” She shrugs. “I’m a girl, and girls have no place in men’s business. That’s what my dad used to always say.”
The agents and I sit, our backs straight, enthralled in every word she has to say, not just because it’s going to lead somewhere, but for me—I’m getting a part of Nate I never knew.
“Over the years, we got to know each a little bit more. When Nate’s dad died, he would spend a lot of time at our house. My dad became his legal guardian. Nate was only sixteen, and he didn’t much like living in that house all alone. Plus, the memories, you know?”
I’m not sure what the agents know, so I keep quiet, nod in response.
“At the beginning, Nate looked up to him. He thought my dad was a god amongst men but… my dad wasn’t a good dad. He wasn’t even a good man. From the time I can remember, he used to sneak into my room at night—”
“Jesus,” Brent murmurs.
“No,” Ashton’s quick to respond. “Not for anything like that. He’d just… he’d have this secret spot under the floorboards of my bedroom. He’d always come in and put something in there. I’d pretend to be asleep because I didn’t want to get in trouble. But when I was around twelve, I questioned him about it. He had no idea that I knew, and so he made me change rooms—to one on the other side of the house. He kept my old bedroom locked from then on. Which is why…”
Tiny gets up mid-chew and sits next to Ashton, his hand holding hers. “You can do it,” he whispers loud enough for us to hear.
Ashton nods at him, her eyes welling with tears. She sucks in a breath, squares her shoulders before continuing, “Which is why, a few weeks after I’d switched rooms, when Dante Franco was the one to open my door in the middle of the night, I thought it was a mistake… but it wasn’t.” She releases a sob, and instinctively, I go to her, put my arm around her shoulders. “The first time he raped me, he covered my mouth with his hand,” she cries. “He said that if I ever told anyone, he’d kill me. And he kept those threats going for over a year.”
“Ashton, I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“The only reason the threats stopped is because my dad walked in on it once. He opened the door, saw what was happening, and then he closed the door, and just walked away as if nothing...”
“That motherfucker,” Perceval seethes through gritted teeth.
“The next day, I confronted him about it, and he said… he said…” She can’t speak through her cries, and I catch Tiny squeezing her hand, encouraging her. He glances at me with tear-soaked eyes, and I wipe at my own. Ashton sniffs once, gaining the courage to keep going. “He said to keep my mouth shut, or he’d sell me off to the highest bidder. I was thirteen,” she almost yells, her head moving from side to side. “Franco never had to threaten me again. He had free reign over my body because my dad—he let him. Franco warned me not to move out of that house, because if I did, if I made it harder for him to access me… he was going to make it so much worse for me. I was his toy, his trash he’d discard the minute he was done. Whenever Franco wanted it, however he wanted it, for years and years and fucking years until…” A heartbreaking sob wracks through her body, her shoulders shaking with the force. “Until a couple of years ago when Nate—he heard me crying in my room, and he knocked on the door, waited for me to respond—something I wasn’t used to. He asked what was wrong and I… I was sick of keeping it all in, so I told him. I told him everything.” She faces me. “He was so mad, Bailey. I’d never seen him so… and it makes sense. I mean, what he did for you… he was going to do it for me, too.” She focuses on the agents again. “He marched right into my dad’s office and told him that he was in love with me and that we were getting married, and he was taking me with him then and there. And that was it. I was saved.”
I hold her now as we cry together, grateful for a man who’s no longer around.
Once she’s composed, she pulls back slightly but keeps our hands locked, her grip tight, as if she needs it to keep going. “We made a deal that first night. An agreement,” she says. “We were going to end them both.” She clears her throat, her emotions hardening in an instant. “You’re not going to find my dad, because I killed him. Nate—he was going to make it look like a suicide. That was the plan. But things changed. I’d spiked his whiskey after dinner…” Her gaze is distant now, recalling the events. “And then I was supposed to confront him about what he let happen to me. And I did that, but it was cut short. He somehow found pictures,” she says, reaching into her purse on the floor. She pulls out an envelope and hands it to the agents. “Nate planted them there; I’m sure of it.”
Perceval opens the envelope, peers inside. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” I ask, my voice weak.
“It’s Nate and us talking… and our FBI profiles. Benny knew we were working together.”
Ashton nods. “My dad found out, and he turned his anger toward Nate. I was told to leave the room, but I left the door ajar. I heard them fighting. Heard them yelling. And then it was just my dad talking and Nate—he wasn’t responding—and so I opened the door, and my dad was on top of Nate. He was choking him… and he told him…” She releases a breath.
“You have to keep going, Ash,” Tiny encourages.
“Nate had always believed that his dad died of a heart attack. But he told Nate that he killed him. He shot him straight through the heart.”
I flop back on the couch, my heart racing as I stare up at the ceiling. Too many thoughts. Too wild. Too reckless.
“And my dad promised to kill Nate, too. That’s when I shot him, put a bullet through his fucking skull. I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”
The silence that passes is deafening.
Finally, Perceval asks, “And Franco?”
Ashton shakes her head, her eyes clear of the tears she’d been shedding. “Nate wanted to hurt Franco, not just kill him.”
I gasp, recalling Nate’s words:
“Sometimes I want the pain to last forever, and you don’t feel pain when you’re dead, Bailey.”
Ashton adds, “He wanted to take every single thing away from Franco. He wanted to take down his army, one by one, and then when it was time, when Franco had nothing left to live for, he was going to make it hurt. Slowly, slowly.”
“For what he did to you?” Perceval asks.
“No,” Ashton says, shaking her head. “Not just me. Because I wasn’t the only one he was doing it to…”
“There are others?” Brent asks.
“Yes,” she whispers and squeezes my hand. “He was doing it to Nate’s mom first.”
“Oh my God,” I mutter, my shoulders dropping.
“That’s who was raping her when Nate accidentally shot her.”
“Fucking hell,” Perc
eval mumbles.
“That’s why he stayed,” Tiny says, more to me than anyone else. “He was biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And then you two motherfuckers stepped in, and he knew that was his chance. Take down Franco’s empire, one by one, while saving a bunch of girls from becoming a victim like his mom. You literally made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.”
“You know what I don’t understand?” Ashton murmurs. “Why tell my dad what you guys were doing? What was the point? It’s almost as if he went in there wanting to...”
“Die?” Perceval finishes for her.
“I don’t know,” she says, shaking her head. “The plan was always to do them both one after the other, but it seemed like he was rushing it. Like he just wanted to get it over with before it was time.”
Perceval stands quickly, grasping at his hair. “This is so fucking much to process.”
I blink through the fog of everything that’s just been laid out and finally find my voice. “What’s going to happen to Ashton… now that you know about her dad?”
The agents share a look, a silent conversation. Then Perceval focuses on Ashton and me, sitting side by side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bailey.”
“Yeah,” says Brent. “As far as we know, Benny’s still a missing person. Finding him won’t be a priority for us or anyone else in law enforcement.”
“Are you serious?” Ashton sobs, her hands covering her face. Relief washes through her as her body slumps into mine. “Thank you, agents. For everything. For listening to me and for believing me, and … for coming tonight. Nate told me I could trust you, but… just thank you.”
“Of course,” Brent answers. “These tacos are great, Ashton. Thanks for inviting us.”
“Beer or whiskey?” Tiny asks them.
“I think a shot of whiskey is in order,” Perceval replies.
“Or five,” adds Brent.
Ashton squeezes my hand, and I face her. “Do you want to see his room?”
My heart stops. “Really?”
She stands up, taking me with her. “Come on.” Then she leads me down a hallway, second door on the left. Nate’s room is… sparse. There’s a queen-size bed with white linen, a nightstand and a lamp on either side.
“Take your time,” Ashton tells me, rubbing my back. “I’ll be out here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.” She offers me a smile. “Go ahead, and make sure to look in the left nightstand. That’s where he kept everything important. You can take what you want.”
“I couldn’t—”
She raises her hand between us. “He’d want you to, Bailey. Please.” She ushers me in, closing the door behind me. I’d love to say there was an instant feeling that washes over me, something to let me know that this is his room and that he’s in here with me, but there’s not. There are small signs of him around: discarded shoes, a pair of socks. I look over at the nightstand, but decide to save it till last. I go to his closet, run my hand through his clothes. He doesn’t have much hanging, and so I open the drawers, see numerous pairs of black hoodies and dark denim. There are more shoes in here. Mainly sneakers. My longing creates a pain in my chest, but it’s different now than it was before. It’s almost calming. I go into his bathroom, spray on his cologne, and smile when I smell him on me. Then I sit on the edge of his bed, adjusting my body until I’m comfortable. With a heavy heart, I open the drawer of his nightstand. Two phones and a wallet. The phones no longer hold a charge, not that I’d snoop, but I take out his wallet, open it up. His license is there, and I’ll ask Ashton if I can have it. She has plenty of pictures of him, and this will be the only one I’ll have besides the ones in my mind, in my dreams of him. I start to close the wallet again, but my eyes catch on something in the cash compartment. I spread apart the leather and peer inside, my breath lost when I see what it is: a laminated fall leave. My sob comes quickly, without warning, and I take the leaf out, hold it in my palm. He’d set fire to his house, but he kept this one piece of me to carry with him always. I pocket the license and leaf, and with liquid love falling from my eyes, I take one more look in the drawer. There’s an envelope with my name on it and a raised outline of what he’d promised me. I take it out, my heart aching so painfully it’s impossible to breathe. His mother’s engagement ring is cool on my palm, and without a second thought, I slide it on my finger. It fits perfectly there, just like his presence in my life, his love in my heart. I lie down on the bed, my emotions getting the best of me, and I cry into the pillow. A pillow that smells of him. “Ti amo, Nathaniel,” I whisper, my eyes drifting shut. And finally, finally, I find peace amid the destruction surrounding me.
Chapter 55
“Hey,” a gentle voice coos, running a finger over my brow.
My eyes open to Ashton’s, and I quickly hide my hands under the sheets. “I fell asleep?”
“You did,” she says, smiling at me. “And you don’t need to hide the ring. He told me it was yours from the beginning.”
“I was just um…” I swallow, my mouth dry. “I was just trying it on.”
“Bailey, he wanted you to have it. Don’t waste it, okay? Wear it with pride.”
I nod, my heart heavy. “Okay.”
“The agents are leaving. They wanted to know if you needed a ride. You’re welcome to—”
“No.” I throw the covers off me. “I should go.” I get on my feet, slip on my shoes before asking, “Do you mind if I take his license?”
Her smile is full of warmth. “I’d love for you to have it,” she says, leading me to the living room where Brent and Perceval are waiting for me.
“You ready to go?” Brent asks.
“I’m ready.”
Perceval opens the door, thanking Ashton.
“It’s no problem,” she responds. He’s halfway out the door before she adds, “Hey, aren’t you guys at all curious as to what my dad was hiding all those years?”
Perceval glances at Brent, another silent conversation. “I mean, sure, but—”
Ashton raises a finger in a wait gesture and backhands Tiny’s stomach as she passes him. She returns a moment later with an old shoebox and hands it to Perceval, her smile wide.
“What is it?” he asks her, lifting the lid.
“It’s all the information you need,” she almost sings. “Names, addresses, affiliates. Every single transaction, every detail of the human-trafficking ring.”
“Shut up!” he almost shouts, going through the papers in the box.
“My dad was old-school, Agent Perceval. He didn’t much like technology, so he kept it all like this. Stupid, if you ask me, to leave a paper trail behind, but he wasn’t the smartest man.” She’s smirking now. “What? You think I asked you over for tacos?”
“Get inside,” Perceval orders me, shoving me back in the apartment.
Tiny chuckles. “So, what’s the next step for you guys?”
“We need to create a task unit headquarters, get every spare agent from Quantico up here. Goddammit, Ashton, I could kiss you right now.”
“You’re married,” she informs.
“I’m aware,” he laughs out. Then he asks Tiny, “You know any empty warehouses because we’re going to need the space.”
Tiny ponders this a moment, while I raise my hand. “I do.”
“You do?” Brent asks me. “Where?”
“Nate took me there for a driving lesson once. It was an old apparel factory.”
“I know the one,” Tiny says. “I can take you there.”
“Jesus,” Perceval mutters. “Even from the grave, that kid’s working miracles.”
I smile.
Perceval pulls out his phone, taps it a few times, before looking up at Tiny. “You want in on this?”
“Me?” he asks, his eyes wide.
“Yeah, you want to finish what your boss started? Make him proud?”
“Fuck yeah, I do,” Tiny says through a grin.
I hug Ashton tigh
t. I can’t help it. “Yay!” she squeaks. “I finally got the hug I wanted to give you.”
“You’re something else, Ashton,” I tell her, pulling away.
“Can you take us to the warehouse now?” Perceval asks Tiny.
“Sure,” he answers, then to Ashton: “Is that okay?”
“Of course.” She nods before switching her focus to Perceval. “Agent Perceval?”
“Yeah?” He pauses, his phone halfway to his ear.
Ashton clears the emotion from her voice. “I hope you find your daughter, and I hope one day she’ll be able to find comfort in a man’s embrace. In yours.”
Chapter 56
Perceval was right. They had his daughter. This meant that for the next few weeks, Project Sara took control of all our lives. Tiny and I spend that time with fifty agents from the bureau who’ve set up offices in the old, unused warehouse—now a task headquarters for the motherfucking FBI.
They have agents set up at multiple locations, keeping watch of all the addresses Ashton had supplied us. There are over twenty of them. We just hope that Franco is in one of them.
Unfortunately, we couldn’t take action right away. Perceval said that in order to take down as many players as possible, we had to do simultaneous raids—to the exact second. That way, there was no chance that they could make contact with each other and possibly flee the scene. And even though it broke him to know that it would mean his daughter having to live through hell for those weeks, it also meant saving many, many other girls in the same situation.
Most days, after spending hours upon hours at the warehouse, Tiny and I leave to have dinner with Ashton. Some nights, when I’m too tired to go home, she lets me sleep in Nathaniel’s bed. I get the most peaceful sleep I’ve had since I slept in Kyler’s arms.
Kyler’s gone now, left on a cruise with his mom a couple of days after telling me. But I see his brother Jackson every day. He has his own office at HQ. The agents even gave him a specific task that came with a title. I don’t know what that title is, but Jackson seems pretty damn happy and proud to be involved.
