Denton didn't say anything, but he looked devastated as he heard his little sister's illogical ramblings. It was almost as if his worst fear had come to life before his eyes, he'd fought so hard, and it had still happened.
"It wasn't even like that, Mena," I spoke up. "He just didn't want you….to become like me."
"I…," Denton spoke up. "You'd been fascinated with her for so long, Mena, and I knew that you wanted to be like Sheldon, but…you can't handle her life. She's tough, she's…"
I stepped closer and added, "Not who your brother wants you to become."
Denton flashed a grateful look in my direction as he said further, "I just…wanted you to be you, Mena. You have a hard time doing that. With all the therapy and meds, I was just worried that you'd cling to someone's world that wouldn't be the most healthy for you."
"I'm not sick, Denton."
"Yes, you are!" He swallowed tightly, but said again, "You are sick and you have to go back to the group home."
"Denton!" Mena cried out, horrified.
He'd spilled the secret. I saw the instant horror and regret that flashed in Denton, but it was already said. They were words he couldn't take back.
Bryce rounded the corner that moment and quickly found me.
Denton shifted back a step.
And Chad instantly readied for a fight.
Mena didn't see any of it. I could see that her brother's voice still sounded in her head.
And then Bryce grasped my arm and said quietly, "Let's go."
Chapter 28
Bryce yanked me behind him and we slipped through the garage, through the opened door that shouldn't have been opened. Corrigan found us that instant and called out from the other doorway I usually took into the house, "Hey, we got something."
Corrigan led the way, Bryce followed behind, and I was about to step through until I found myself blinking at Denton's face.
He hauled me back, slammed the door, and locked it tight.
Bryce and Corrigan both shouted instantly and pounded at the door.
"Denton," I said quietly.
He ignored me and called through, "I just want to talk. That's it. You can have her back in ten minutes, okay?"
The door that connected the garage to the door rattled and then the fists abruptly stopped.
"They're going to my car to get my garage-door opener," I murmured.
Denton swore and raked a hand through his movie star hairstyle.
"What is up with them? They're so protective of you."
"Mmm," I cocked an eyebrow. "Kinda like an…older brother?" Except Bryce wasn't. And Corrigan wasn't….not really.
I was going to stop thinking about that.
"Whatever. They're obsessed," Denton dismissed, irritated.
"They're being my friends," I pointed out.
"I get that Mohawk guy. Mena said that he's your boyfriend or something like that."
"He was not happy to see you last night."
"I figured that out when I was shoved out the door." Denton sighed and leaned beside me against my mom's Chrysler.
"Well…to be fair…you did interrupt something pretty intense that night," I mused with a small thrill as I remembered the rest of that night.
"Look…" And the reason for his sudden arrival was about to be announced.
I held on with no excitement, I had no room for that anymore. "What do you want?" I asked flatly.
Denton grinned and ran another hand through his hair.
"If you have a pretty gala for tonight, you're going to have to call your hairstylist again. Your hair's gone dead."
Denton grinned again, but shook his head. "I didn't come—you make it so easy to flirt and I just instinctually want to hit on you."
"Free champagne, right?" I teased and I knew a sparkle shone in my eyes. I liked being called champagne. I made a note to remind Bryce of that fact, just not who made the reference.
"No, I came because of Mena."
"Where is she?"
"She's at home. I think most of their friends took off."
Wow. They really had come to vandalize the house, not to kill anyone. Shocker, but not a relief.
Denton started, warily, exhausted, "I'm…the truth was that she left a group home because she turned eighteen. They thought she was good enough to come home, but I wasn't too sure about that. I made the mistake of telling her about our neighbor, about the 'free champagne' that I got that night and…Mena just grabbed that, I don't know. I don't know why. She just…I mean, you and me—that happened awhile ago, you know, but Mena idolized you for so long. She thought you were cool, sophisticated, and suave. You name anything worth aspiring for and you were it for her. She got a picture of you and that sealed the deal. She was coming home and she was going to be friends with Sheldon Jeneve."
"What's wrong with her?"
"There's nothing really wrong with her, but…she witnessed some trauma when she was younger and I think it altered who she grew up to be. Mix in some fancy neurotransmitter language and poof—the psychiatrists gave us a handy mental diagnosis for her."
"What is it?"
"Does it matter?" Denton asked, more to himself than towards me. He shook his head, saddened, "It's just a label that she got slapped with. That's all the therapists look at for them to figure her out, but…she's more than some psychological assessment that was dictated by some graduate intern."
"I think if I got my assessment done, they'd say I'm a psychopath," I remarked, dryly.
Denton laughed and shook his head, "No. You're fine. You just have trust issues."
"Is that my problem? My only problem? I thought I was just a bitch. Is that a mental disorder? They can write progress reports on me."
His laugh was genuine as he tipped his head back.
It brought a smile to my face.
"See," Denton pointed out. "This is why I want to hit on you and why I want to take you into the backseat of this car and peel down your—"
I interrupted him, before I was tempted, "I have said the sacred word. The 'l' word and I can't take that back."
Denton quieted and asked, "Is it…Brian?"
At my pointed look, he shrugged and said, "Mena's told me all about you guys. It's petty of me to pretend that I don't know his name." He sighed and straightened from the car. "Another time, without a Bryce in it, I'd have you on my arm for every gala and Hollywood party."
"That would've been fun."
"It might be. You tend to have a charisma that can't be squashed. People hate you, but they also love you."
The Queen of Geneva…
I sobered and noted, "So I'm told."
"When you and Bryce break up—call me?" Denton requested.
"It might be sooner than you think," I remarked. "Bryce is going pro-sports. He won't be around for much longer."
"Well…even though I have a hard time believing that you'd let him go without a fight, if that does happen—you have my number."
I nodded and asked, "Is she going to be okay?"
Denton sobered instantly, the flirting vanished, and he remarked, heavily, "This just means that her progress isn't as far as we'd hoped. She might have to go back to a group home and she'll need weekly counseling sessions."
"Is she…can you cure that stuff?"
"Therapy can work wonders. I think so—if the person is willing to do the work. I've witnessed some miracles with Mena so far, but…she's had a relapse that she needs to go through again. We've got some work ahead. She crumbled when she wasn't approved by your two guard-dogs, but she's convinced that you liked her."
"I did." I didn't know why. I remembered Grace and murmured, "She should let Grace Barton visit her."
Denton looked up, confused.
I shrugged and gestured outside, "That girl outside, the blonde. She's kinda loser-ish, but…she really cared about Mena. She even risked her neck and came to me a few times about Mena because she was concerned."
Denton nodded. "I'll tell Mena that you think so."
"And maybe I'll come too," I offered, though I needed to make it through the night first.
"That'd be good. Mena would like that." Denton smiled kindly.
I wrapped my hand in a circling motion and asked, "So is our talk done? Because we're going to get interrupted anytime soon."
Denton smiled dashingly as the garage opened.
Corrigan stood, smirking on the pavement, as a crowd formed behind him.
Denton Steele's name was whispered with revenue and awe and I laughed, "Oh god. I forget half the time that you're a celebrity."
The first rush of fans swarmed him, but Denton threw over his shoulder, "That's another reason why I want to…" He looked to the car's backseat, but Bryce strode to my side and plucked me off the ground. As he carried me inside, Corrigan smiled and shook his head behind us. He followed Bryce back up the stairs. We walked back into my dad's office
I saw that the television screens had now switched back to the doorways. I asked, "What happened to the other stuff?"
"We saved it all on a hard drive, but erased it on the network system," Corrigan answered me.
"What does that mean?
He shrugged and gestured towards the tech, who stood up and walked towards us, "So…what that means is that the feed, everything, originated here and was sent to an
off-base account, this guy's computer. I can't cut the feed that's automatically transmitted without losing the signal all together, but I was able to erase all the data and video recorded here at ground zero. That means that he can have downloaded the same input and still have it at his place. So he can still…"
"Watch us having sex," I murmured.
"Yeah, but he won't get anything new. The signal's still transmitting, but the data is dead."
Bryce cleared his throat and told me, "When you ordered the new alarm system, they didn't install an alarm system. They installed these videos."
The tech asked as he readjusted his coveralls, "Who'd you call for this?"
I didn't want to know why a tech would wear coveralls so I shrugged, "I just opened the phone book and found someone to do it. I wasn't really thinking rational at that moment."
"Do you think it's possible that this guy ordered the break-in so that Sheldon would get freaked and get a new alarm system?"
"It is, but how do you know which system she'd pick?" Bryce mused.
"Sitting right here," I snapped, irritated. "And he'd know. He's obsessed with me enough—I'm sure that he'd know."
"You don't remember what their names were?"
I shrugged, but something pricked at my memory. Something…I murmured, "Williams Alarms? Is there a place like that?"
"When did they install it?"
"It was after the break-in, the next day. I ordered it. They came and installed it. They gave me the instructions and then I went to bed. I wasn't paying attention to them. I went downstairs until they were done. I haven't thought about it since."
"Didn't they bill you?"
"I…I gave them my credit card number. I suppose it'd be on my statement?"
The tech snapped his fingers and said swiftly, "I can do that. Give me the account number."
I did and I noticed that his name badge said Kevin. As he brought up my last statement, I murmured, "Thanks, Kevin."
He smiled a genuine smile and swung around in his chair, "Thank you, Sheldon."
Bryce frowned, glanced between us two, and moved the computer screen towards him.
"Williams, Martels, and Alarms."
"That sounds…not at all familiar," I said. "Sorry."
"How much did they charge her for?" Corrigan asked.
"$35.50"
"Are you serious?" Corrigan pushed his way to the screen. "That's the cheapest alarm company ever. The cost alone would've steered me to another company."
"Thanks, Corrigan."
"It's not your fault. You were all traumatized and stuff."
Bryce pondered, "So maybe this guy didn't work for the company, but showed up and installed all the stuff himself."
"And maybe that's even scarier. He would've needed to take her phone call and forward it to his own phone…"
Kevin pointed out, "He's got the skill to do it. He did all of this."
"Is a window open? I'm cold." I glanced around, but none of the guys looked for an open window.
Bryce caught my gaze and nodded solemnly. The goose bumps hadn't come from the outside temperature. My chills weren't circumstantial. I turned away, and then moved to the farthest couch where I curled my legs underneath me. Bryce and Corrigan sat on either side of me while Kevin took the desk.
"Can I just ask," Kevin started. "Why are you guys doing this? Isn't this police business?"
"Police that aren't doing a whole lot," Corrigan growled.
Bryce murmured, "Someone else died and the guy's obsessed with Sheldon. We're not…"
"I'm not waiting any longer," I said firmly and looked up.
I saw the tech for the first time. He was leanly built with intelligent green eyes and brown curls that gave him a boyish innocent look. That look alone would earn him the nickname of 'Pretty Boy' for the rest of his life. He was young, but when I looked into his eyes—he wasn't young.
"Thanks for helping us," I said again.
Kevin nodded, glanced at Corrigan and Bryce, and murmured, "Mark said to come and help, to do everything possible so that's what I'm doing."
"Mark?" Corrigan asked.
"Sorry." Kevin rolled his eyes. "Hoodum. That's what you guys call him."
"What do you call him?" I asked, throatily.
"Brother." Kevin smiled. "He's my big brother."
"So…you're not…."
"I'm not a part of Mark's stupid gang. I go to MIT, actually. I'm post-secondary by, like, four years." Kevin chuckled and shook his head. "I'm their secret. I help them out. They get me a nice car every now and then, some 'nicer' things like diamonds or…I don't know—I get favors like protection if I ever need it."
"That's gotta be sweet."
"It is, but the cops know about me. One of them, in particular, is on my rear all the time."
"Which one?" Corrigan asked casually with an easy grin. "They're not fans of mine either."