But the easy way—at least for my old man—set off a chain reaction of bullshit.
Before I knew it, our basement had become a place for his friends to store their drugs and guns and my old man was sneaking out in the middle of the night to clean up crimes scenes, sweeping them clean of evidence.
He jeopardized his career and my mother’s safety to make a few quick bucks.
If he’d have kept it away from home—away from my mother—I might have ignored it. I want to think I could have pretended it wasn’t happening.
But he didn’t.
He brought it into our home.
Brought his buddies there, too.
He exposed my mother to danger, when he should have been protecting her from it.
But there are still days that I regret not pretending. Some days I wonder what would have happened if I’d kept what I found between him and me. Maybe I should have talked to him, helped him get out of the mess he made. Other days I wonder if it would have been better if I just turned him in.
This is one of those days I regret it.
Seeing my mother smile, hearing her laugh … Five years and she still loves him. Despite everything, he is still the only man for her.
It fucking rips me apart.
And to top off the goddamn family reunion, each time I turn around, there’s another cop in my house.
Don’t get me wrong, I welcome the help, but this is over the top. I like quiet operations. Less people, less chance for fuck-ups.
But this … this is a goddamn circus.
“Jason,” my mother says, annoyed by my silence. “Hear him out. He may be able to give you some insight on this whole mess.”
I snort, cutting her an incredulous look, which only serves to earn me a disappointed glare.
“Let me help, please,” my old man begs. He’s speaking loudly, making a big scene. It draws the attention of a few officers and they glance our way, wondering why he’s begging me like he is.
I step toward him, giving him a look that makes him shut up. I don’t have time for this shit. Peck’s plane will be landing in a little over two hours and Elena … Elena has gone into hiding somewhere in the house.
She’s stressed.
She’s nervous.
I should be with her right now, coaching her, getting her ready to face her ex, not standing here listening to my old man tell me he gave her up for her own good.
Gritting my teeth, and keeping my voice low, I say, “You gave up her location to a prick that beat her, forced her into a relationship, and blackmailed her to stay with him. How the fuck was that for her?”
He blinks at me and his jaw begins to drop, before he steels his expression. “The sooner they get near each other, the sooner this shit can end, and whether you like it or not, it’s better that shit happens here, away from people who might be inclined to protect him and discredit her.”
I laugh, shaking my head. I don’t want to see the logic there, but even if I did, the fury building within my chest won’t let me. “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?”
Holding out his hands, he lifts his shoulders slightly. “What do you want me to say?”
I want to know why he did it. Why did he bother hiding her for two months only to call Peck as soon as she left, but I know that there is nothing, nothing, he can say that will make what he’s done this time okay.
“Nothing,” I grumble. “I think it’s better if you say nothing.”
“She knows more than she’s saying, Jase.” His tone and comment rubs me the wrong way. Is he saying she’s lying to me or hiding shit? He must see where my mind is going because he quickly continues, “Don’t think she knows she does, but she does. He’s into more than just beating up a little girl. Taking her like he did …” he shakes his head and sighs. “It shows me that he’s sure of his safety and he knows people will back him, but no cop would back this shit. So ask yourself, where’s that safety coming from?”
“You would have backed it,” I say, and instantly regret it when I see my mother’s face fall.
It’s not entirely true.
He wouldn’t have ignored the abuse, but the rest …
“She lived with him,” Dad continues, ignoring my comment. “She probably went to meetings with him or held dinner parties, shit like that. Show her some mug shots of the guys he’s busted in New York. Bet she’ll have seen them. It might help jog her memory on things she heard, too.”
“How the fuck do you know she could ID anyone?” I ask, aiming for sharp, but my words come out sounding eager.
He might be onto something here.
My gut has been telling me there was more to this than I could see.
He leans in close and drops his voice to a whisper, “Because your momma could have ID’d most of the guys I worked with. You could have, too.” He sighs. “Look, you’re gonna need something more than abuse that was never reported to bring him down. Unless you plan on using her to bait him into doing it again, which from the way you’ve been hovering over her, I’m thinking that’s not an option, you’re gonna need something else.”
I stare at him hard.
If he’s trying to pull some bullshit, I can’t tell.
He’s watching me, face straight, sincere even, waiting for me to respond.
When I don’t say a word, he drops his eyes, and mutters, “You get her through this and I’ll give you what you want.”
I let out a sharp bark of laughter that holds no humor. “And what exactly is it that you think I want from you?”
His pained eyes meet mine once more. “You want me out of your life once and for all. I’ll give you that, Jase. Get her through this and I’ll give you that.”
I don’t expect the stab of pain in my chest that his words cause. I don’t even know how to process it. He’s right, that’s exactly what I want, but if that’s true, then why does it hurt hearing him say it out loud?
“Of course I’ll get her through this,” I say, my voice sounding thick even to my own ears. “Not gonna let that prick get anywhere near her.”
“Thank you,” he mutters. “She’s a good girl. Kills me to see her messed up in this shit.”
I stare at him. He seems sincere. He sounds genuine.
It makes no sense.
This isn’t my old man. My old man doesn’t care about some random girl. He wouldn’t try to help her either.
“Why do you want to help her?”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “She’s my second chance, son. She’s giving me the chance to make up for all the shit I did wrong.”
“You’re using her to clear your conscience,” I say, incredulously.
He stares at me for a long moment, saying nothing, before glancing back at my mother. She looks as though she wants to say something, but swallows it when he tips his head and says, “Come on, Mona. The boy’s got a lot of work to do.”
I stand there, not moving, watching as my old man puts an arm around my mother and they start toward the door. As they reach it, he glances back at me. “I’ll be staying at the Embassy until this blows over. Elena’s got my number if you need me.”
I gaze at him in silence for a moment, and then nod when no words come out.
“See you later, honey,” Mom calls out, shooting me a brilliant smile. “You give me a call if there’s anything I can do, and tell Elena the same, okay?”
Then, they’re gone.
What the fuck just happened?
I hear someone come up behind me and a hand falls on my shoulder. “He makes a good argument, although I would have liked to know what we were dealing with before he set it all in motion.”
Turning to Cruz, I let out an exasperated sigh. “He isn’t known for thinking shit through before acting.”
“You think she’ll try it?” Wes asks, coming over.
“Not sure,” I say and shrug, glancing around the room, before bringing my gaze back to Cruz. “You think you can get that emergency restraining order in place b
efore the plane lands?”
“With her story,” he says, his brow furrowing, “yeah, I should have enough to get one, but she’ll have to come in and fill out an application soon.”
“Good, do that,” I say. “Is there a reason there’s so many cops in my house?”
Cruz snorts. “Missing person, engaged to a cop, and that cop decided to call in a bunch of reports of her whereabouts.”
Nice. Just fucking perfect.
Who knows how many more will show up?
“I’m gonna go pull her out of hiding and give her the options,” I say. “I’ll give you a call once she decides how she wants to go with this, yeah?”
Cruz nods. “Sure. We’ve got just over two hours before the plane lands. I’ll be sending over an officer to pick him up so I can probably stall the arrival time a bit more.”
“I’ll call,” I tell him, and then turn my attention to Wes. “Round up Vance and get everyone out. I need some quiet space to talk to her. Lock up behind you, yeah?”
Wes nods, but he also winks and gives me a shit-eating grin.
I don’t acknowledge the grin.
All I can think about is getting my girl in my arms and making sure she’s okay.
I go off to find Elena.
I hope she’s not freaking out.
And if she is, I hope she doesn’t shoot me with the goddamn Taser again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Elena
I’m in hell.
I feel like a rock star, that is, if rock stars have an entourage of straight-faced police officers.
There are too many people here, poking around, talking to me. Everyone’s looking at me with pity and offering me things. Tea, coffee, food, pop, beer. Each time I turn around, someone else—someone in uniform—is standing there, trying to get my attention.
It’s making my skin crawl with unease.
I know they’re all trying to be nice.
They’re trying to make me feel comfortable and safe.
But it’s just too much.
I’m not used to this many people and the fact that they are all dressed in uniform; well … it’s quite simply hell.
I’m alone now—finally—in Jason’s bedroom, hiding away from the mad house downstairs.
I feel better by myself, being alone and not worrying and checking my surroundings every few seconds.
I feel safer.
But even in solitude, I’m still a mess. A sweaty, jittery mess, and it makes me sick.
I haven’t always been this timid, weak woman. I never used to be nervous all the time. I was outgoing. I liked to have fun and I was always up for meeting new people. I had dreams. I had plans. I was going to have a bright future.
And then Peck happened.
Things changed.
I changed.
Sighing, I cross the room and take a seat on the bed, setting the Taser down beside me. I’m surprised they let me keep the thing so long with all those cops hanging around.
Even with the door closed, I can hear people everywhere, moving through the house. I’m not sure why so many officers are needed or why they all have to be here. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that Peck is a cop, too?
Ugh, I don’t know.
After speaking with the detective for well over an hour, he disappeared downstairs with Jason, Wes, and Vance to review the case, and it was shortly after that people started showing up.
Mona is here, too—somewhere. I spotted her talking to Mr. Chapman just before I came up here. She looked … happy to see him, which is confusing.
So confusing.
Actually, I’m surprised Jason even let him stay. I figured he would have forced him out once I finished talking to Cruz, but he didn’t. Jason didn’t even glance in his father’s direction.
I think I’m supposed to be happy or excited. Detective Cruz believes me.
He believes me!
I should be thrilled about that. I should be jumping up and down, doing a happy dance or something. For a year now, all I’ve wanted was to get my life back and soon, with the help of Jason and Vance and Wes and the Sacramento police, I’ll be able to get back to those dreams and plans, and live out that bright future, except … those dreams and plans … I don’t think they are what I want anymore.
I’m no longer that person.
Good God, I’m not even sure I want to go back to New York anymore.
Peck’s plane is going to land in two hours and twenty-three minutes. I’m not really sure what the plan is, but with the amount of cops here, I’m guessing this will end quickly.
And then I’ll be going home.
Suddenly, I feel rushed. I want more time here. More time with Jason.
I’m lost in my thoughts, my mind drifting back to last night, when I hear a light tap on the door before it opens. My hand goes to the Taser as I glance up, and seeing Jason standing in the doorway, I quickly take my hand back, knotting it with the other in my lap. He’s not smiling. Actually, he looks tense and perhaps even slightly angry.
“Hey, darlin’,” he says. “What are you doing up here?”
I shrug. “Just needed some quiet.”
He watches me with a curious expression for a moment before he cracks a smile. Crossing over to me, he pauses right in front of me. His arms snake around me, his hands go to my ass, and he picks me up.
I gasp and instinctively wrap my arms and legs around him, holding on tight.
I don’t bother asking him what he’s doing.
I know.
He’s told me enough that he likes me in his arms and at the moment, that’s exactly where I want to be.
Jason settles down on the edge of the bed with me straddling him, my knees on either side of his thighs, my chest pressed to his chest, and he wraps his arms around me.
Once he has me settled where he wants me, he leans down to kiss me. His lips are soft against mine, not frenzied like before. He holds there for a moment, his lips tasting mine, before he pulls away, and curves an eyebrow at me. “You doing alright?”
“Um … yeah,” I say, licking my lips. “I’m good.”
He doesn’t look convinced. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?”
I sit there for a moment, clutching onto him, before I respond. “I was just thinking about going home.”
He freezes as he stares down at me, a look of surprise passing across his face. His body stiffens and his arms tighten around me. He shakes his head after a second, loosening his hold, and tries to smile at me. “Yeah?”
Taken aback by the sharp bite in his voice, I furrow my brow. I know he’s trying to hide it, but he seems almost agitated with me.
I don’t understand it.
“Yeah,” I say quietly, and duck my head, resting my forehead against his collarbone. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do when I get there.”
“You have tons of time to figure that out, darlin’,” he mumbles and before I can get anything else out, he says, “We gotta talk about Peck.”
I say nothing, because what is there to say? I’m sure he knows that I don’t want to talk about Peck, but I also know that I really don’t have a choice.
Not with the asshole on his way to get me.
Jason’s hands leave my ass and come up to my cheeks, lifting my head, and forcing me to look at him. He stares at me for a moment, his expression turning serious. “Promise you, darlin’, I won’t let him take you away from me.”
Wow.
He sounds serious, he looks it, too, one-hundred percent certain, and oh God, but seeing it, hearing it, causes my belly to flutter and warm.
I nod, and whisper, “Okay.” It’s all I can think of saying.
“We’ve been working this last week, trying to find some dirt on him,” he says carefully, watching me closely. “Liam’s been following him. Wes and Vance have been checking in at the department he works at. I’ve been running checks on him, his bank accounts, phone records, credit ca
rds. We’ve found nothing.”
Nothing? I don’t even know what to say to that.
There has to be something.
There has to be.
I swallow thickly. “Um … okay.”
“It’s gonna be hard to prove the abuse unless he right out admits to it,” he tells me, his fingers stroking along my hairline. “It’s been a year. There are no reports. Not even the hospital records show hints of violence. All accidents.”
I nod again, not sure what to say. I knew there would be nothing in my medical files. The few times I ended up in the hospital, he was with me, flashing his badge around.
People believe the badge.
They believe that cops are here to keep you safe, not cause harm.
“So,” he says slowly, drawing out the word. “We’ve got a couple options. First one is, you can get a restraining order. We’ve got enough for that. Hopefully, he’ll honor that and stay the fuck away from you, but if he doesn’t, he can be pulled in for breaking it.”
A piece of paper?
He wants me to get a piece of paper to keep that bastard away from my family and me?
“You’re suggesting I let a piece of paper keep him away from me?” I ask. My voice cracks as I try to hold back a sudden well of tears. That sounds like an entirely useless solution. “What about my parents? My brother?”
“It’s an option,” he says. “And it wouldn’t be easy for him to act against your parents since you gave your statement to Cruz. You’ve got it on record that he used it to blackmail you now. It would shoot off red flags if he tried, darlin’.”
I sniffle. “Is that my only option?”
He lets out a sigh. “You could meet with him, wearing a wire, and try to get him to admit to the shit he did to you. We can have your brother pulled in. He can give a statement on the DWI and the trade for you, but I gotta say, babe, with his record that statement might not do much.”
Tears gather in my throat and dribble down my cheeks. I know it’s stupid to cry. It’s ridiculous. He’s only giving me options. It’s not like I have to agree to them.
I can always leave.
Run again.
But I thought this was going to be easy. It was supposed to be simple. Meet Jason, and then let him do his thing. I had this delusional thought that I’d just be sitting in the background, doing nothing, and after a couple of days, I’d be home.