by Morgan James
“Thank God you’re okay!”
A tight smile lifted my mouth. “I’m fine.”
At least, I would be when everything finally sank in.
“I was so worried about you,” he continued as I slid into the middle seat. “When Fox called me earlier, I... God, I couldn’t believe it.”
For the first time, I noticed that his hands were zip tied together at his lower back. I threw a look over my shoulder at Fox who had climbed in behind me. His brows lifted a fraction as if to say, “what did you expect?”
I buckled myself in, then closed my eyes. A heavy arm draped over my shoulders, and I leaned into Fox as he pulled me close. All at once, I felt absolutely exhausted. I must have dozed, because I jerked awake when Fox’s hands slid beneath my legs and he lifted me to his chest.
“I’ve got you, angel. Just relax,” he whispered near my ear. He lifted me from the car then carried me toward the steps of the plane.
I stared up at them as we approached. Though I was loath for him to let me go, the steps were too narrow for him to carry me. I smothered a yawn, then patted his chest. “Put me down.”
He lowered me to my feet, keeping one hand on me the entire way up the steps and into the cabin. Fox directed me to the seats at the front of the plane, but instead of settling us on opposite sides of the aisle, he took a seat and pulled me over his lap.
I looked up at him. “I’m okay, you know. Really,” I added when his piercing eyes met mine.
“I know. You’re so strong, angel.” His head dipped low next to mine, his warm breath caressing my ear. “But not this time. Not now. I can’t let you go.”
That was perfectly fine with me. I loved the feel of his arms around me, the strength and security he offered as I tucked my head into the crook of his neck. I closed my eyes and breathed him in, letting the soft beat of his heart lull me back to sleep.
The plane ride home was a blur, and the sun was up—looking much too bright and cheery—when we finally landed back in Chicago. We deplaned, then all five of us moved to another car in silence. As soon as we arrived home, Fox hustled me into the house.
“Antoine, please arrange a room for William,” he tossed over his shoulder to the man next to the door
Fox kept one hand on my lower back as he guided me up the stairs and into the master bathroom. I stood there, feeling curiously blank, while he turned on the hot water in the shower then stripped my clothes off. He maneuvered me into the shower stall and pulled me against him. Fox murmured softly to me as he began to soap me off, his hands running up and down my back, over my hair. When he was done, he just held me close. For what felt like forever, we stood there entwined in each other’s arms.
When the water turned cold, he silently toweled me off, then led me to the bed. Although I’d slept for a few hours in the car and on the plane, my mind and body were still exhausted. Guilt and grief weighed heavily on my heart, and I curled into Fox when he slid beneath the covers, pulling me with him.
“There’s something...” My voice broke when I thought of Rodrigo, the way he’d shielded me with his body, protected me with his last breath.
“Not now, angel.”
Fox’s strong arms wrapped around me, and I pushed the thoughts away, focusing only on his touch as we fell asleep. Golden rays of afternoon sunlight poured in through the window when we next awoke, and I blinked up at the ceiling, still feeling numb and cold inside. The events of the past twenty-four hours still didn’t feel quite real. It was almost as if I’d been watching it happen to someone else. But then Rodrigo’s face came to mind again, and my stomach twisted, my heart clenching in agony.
He was gone. Because of me. I’d trusted the wrong person, and he’d paid the ultimate price. A deep ache settled into my bones, and I desperately tried to blink away the tears blurring my vision. What the hell were we going to do about my mother? She was still out there, and she needed to be stopped.
I felt a muscle in Fox’s forearm twitch where it was wrapped around my waist, and I turned my head slightly so I could speak over my shoulder to him. “How did you know?”
He levered up on an elbow and peered down at me. “How did I know what?”
“About my mother.”
He let out a soft exhalation. “Spencer.”
My brows drew together. My brother-in-law had been shot almost immediately. He wouldn’t have been able to—
My gaze jumped to Fox. “You read him. Your visions.”
He nodded. “Yes. I saw everything.”
I shivered, not entirely sure I wanted to know exactly what he’d seen. “I still can’t believe it. Everything seemed so normal when I walked in there. Then...”
“I’m sorry, angel.” He gave his head a little shake. His gaze drifted to the wall. “I had my suspicions when I couldn’t get a hold of you. I called you and Rodrigo over and over but the signals on your phones disappeared.”
His eyes held a trace of something I couldn’t quite describe. Normally he looked so strong, so fierce. But now there was a vulnerability to him I’d never seen. My heart broke all over again for the loss I’d caused him. “I’m so sorry. I—”
My voice cracked, and Fox pulled me into his chest. “Shhh.”
I clenched my eyes closed, but that didn’t stop the tears slipping from the corners. I had no idea how long he held me like that before I finally calmed enough to speak. “What do we do now?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
I tipped my head up to him. “She needs to pay for the things she’s done. She—”
“Eva.” Fox’s eyes were dark and serious, filled with something akin to guilt. “I need to do this my way.”
I was no stranger to the failings of the legal system. My mother had far too many contacts; she would never spend a day in jail. I opened my mouth to ask what he planned, then immediately snapped it closed. I didn’t want to know. But, despite everything she’d done, she was still my mother. I only had one request. “Just... Make it quick, please.”
Fox dipped his chin. “Of course.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Fox
I studied William where he sat across from me. “Are you involved with the Helping Hand foundation?”
William shot me a questioning glance. “That's Lillian's pet project.”
The foundation was created post-war in an effort to offer assistance to the women and children whose families had been torn apart. Lillian’s maternal grandmother had started the foundation, and from what I could tell, it appeared as though the illegal transactions have begun when Lillian's father, Robert, got involved. Robert Rhodes lacked anything resembling scruples judging from his dodgy business dealings. He had died from cancer several years back, and his wife, Beatrice, followed little more than two years later. Though they were unfortunately not around for me to question, I could pretty much guess what had happened.
Lillian's father, Conrad, had met and married Beatrice Farnsworth in 1956. The foundation at that time was barely a decade old but had a sterling reputation. Lillian's maternal grandparents passed away in a plane crash several years later, leaving the foundation in the hands of Lillian's parents. From the manual entries of the accounting books, that appeared to be when the transactions first started.
The foundation grew by leaps and bounds, becoming more profitable each year. Unfortunately, no one questioned the significant donations from the questionable benefactors. Robert and Beatrice weren't fortunate enough to have a second child, and I could only speculate that Robert had groomed Lillian to take over his position.
Three years ago, the foundation had been flagged and an agent was brought in to investigate. Less than a week later he died in his home from an apparent heart attack. No charges were ever filed against the foundation, and any evidence they may have had on Helping Hand vanished into thin air. There was no way I would let Lillian get away this time.
I leveled a hard look at William. “Until this is over, you will remain here in my home.”
“That remains to be seen,” I replied coolly. “Until my men assure me that you're not involved, I can't risk allowing you to interfere and potentially warn Lillian.”
William shook his head. “If what you say is true—”
“It is,” I cut him off. “Spencer told me everything.”
As far as William was concerned, that was true. Spencer had confessed that Lillian was responsible—in a manner of speaking. The more my men investigated the funds moving through the foundation, the more we found an indisputable link to Lillian. It appeared that she had set William up to take the fall. In fact, it appeared so genuine that I’d been certain of his guilt initially. William seemed to have no idea that there were millions of dollars sitting in an offshore account under his name. I wasn't about to enlighten him.
“What will you do?” For the first time, William looked truly unsettled.
I lifted one shoulder. “What needs to be done.”
He was quiet for nearly a minute. “I've known Lillian half my life. Never did I ever imagine...” He trailed off.
I couldn't muster any sympathy for him. While Lillian’s transgressions were far worse, he had once sold his youngest daughter into my possession. While I was grateful for that particular lapse in judgment, he was still a heinous human being. “This is as much for your protection as Eva’s. You may technically be my father-in-law, but I don't trust you.”
He blanched as though he hadn't considered we were technically related, even through marriage. “As I said before,” I continued, “until I can fully determine your innocence, you will remain here under my men's supervision twenty-four hours a day. As far as everyone else in concerned, you’re attending a conference on the west coast. The people there will vouch for you.”
Though I knew he wanted to argue, William wisely kept silent.
“If there is any other information you would like to offer up, now is the time to do so.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I wasn’t sure I believed him, but only time would tell. “If you’ll excuse me,” I said, pushing from my chair, “I have a few things that need my attention.”
“Of course.” William left the office, and I blew out a breath. There was still so much to be done. Though Spencer and Sebastian were gone and the issue of Lillian was already underway, I hadn’t determined how to deal with the rest of them. News of the fire had begun to spread but as of right now none of the men inside had been identified. I was certain that, as soon as the media caught wind of who’d perished in the fire that night, Lillian would increase security. We needed to strike sooner rather than later without it appearing premeditated. It was a delicate balance.
I came to bed late that night, tiptoeing past the bed and into the bathroom so I wouldn’t wake Eva. For a long while I stood under the spray of the shower, thinking about everything that had happened over the past week. It felt as if the weight of the world rested on my shoulders, more so than before. In a short span of time, my wife had lost everyone close to her—if not physically, at least emotionally. Her mother and father had both betrayed her, and she still couldn’t safely contact her sister any time she wished.
I flipped off the water, then toweled dry and made my way to bed. When I lifted the covers to slide underneath, my heart constricted when I saw Eva curled into tiny ball on her side. Where she’d always gravitated to me before, now she’d pulled into herself. I wanted so badly to reach for her, but she’d completely withdrawn. I didn’t know how to reach her.
Each time I saw her, I pictured that scene at the cabin. I saw her covered in blood, cuts and abrasions marring her pretty face. She’d been through so damn much, and she needed to recover before I pawed at her like a dog. She deserved better than that. Resigning myself to another lonely, sleepless night I turned onto my side and closed my eyes, fighting away the nightmare of the past few days.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Eva
I could sense Fox’s disappointment with me. Though we’d shared a bed for the past four nights, he hadn’t so much as tried to kiss me. The inches between us felt like miles. I wanted to curl into him the way I had before, wanted to revel in the refuge of his touch, but I stopped myself each time. I wanted—needed—the physical reassurance of his touch. I wanted him to hold me the way he had when he’d rescued me from the cabin. Instead, he rose earlier every morning, long before I awoke. He came to bed later and slept on his side of the bed, turned away from me. It was like a wedge had been driven between us, and I was the one responsible.
And it wasn’t just him. A somber pall hung over the household, and the guards seemed more serious than usual. Most of them ignored me completely, but I could feel some of them staring at me when they thought I wasn’t paying attention, blaming me for Rodrigo’s death. And they were right. It was my fault. I couldn’t stand their sideways looks, the heavy sense of judgment hanging in the air, knowing that he would still be here if it wasn’t for me.
I felt like everything was spiraling out of control. I still hadn’t come to terms with everything. I couldn’t believe my mother was responsible for something so horrible. It left me reeling, feeling more guilty than ever. I felt like I should have known—I should have seen the signs, or at least expected it. But there had been nothing. My mother had used her position in a charity and taken advantage of the very people it was designed to help. I hated her for that, but I still worried about what would happen to her. She was my mother, after all, and I hated to lose her. It felt like I was being pulled in two very different directions—I loved her, but I wanted justice for the people she’d hurt.
Since the morning we’d returned home, I hadn’t broached the subject and Fox hadn’t offered any information. It stung that he wouldn’t even tell me what he had planned, like he didn’t trust me. I knew I only had myself to blame, but it didn’t take the hurt away. I felt like I was in limbo, just waiting to see what would happen with my mother, wondering if things would ever go back to the way they’d been between Fox and me. Things were strained between us, more so now than even when he’d held me captive.
I couldn’t sleep, and I had no desire to eat. I felt sick with guilt, and grief hung over me like a huge black cloud. I was incredibly lucky that Fox had shown up when he had, and I couldn’t remember if I’d thanked him for saving my life or not. He’d spent every waking hour sequestered in his office, and I didn’t dare intrude. Once more, I felt like an outsider, and that hurt more than anything. The progress that Fox and I had made just a few weeks ago had slipped away in the blink of an eye.
My heart felt brittle and frail, like it was ready to crack wide open at the slightest touch. Part of me wanted to go to Fox, but I was terrified of the possible rejection. I wasn’t sure we could ever go back to the way we were before, and that knowledge dug the knife of pain and regret even deeper.
Glancing down the hall, I kept an eye out for Fox’s guards as I made my way into the kitchen for a drink. I stopped short when I saw my father sitting at the breakfast table tucked into the corner. He was looking out over the garden but turned at the sound of my footsteps. My father flashed me a small smile as I entered the kitchen, but almost as quickly it disappeared when he saw my hesitation.
I’d been avoiding him as much as possible, too, still unsure of my feelings toward him. He’d led Fox to the cabin to save me, but I couldn’t forget that he’d practically sold me to Fox several months ago. I didn’t know how to act around him anymore. I was emotionally exhausted from everything that had happened recently, and all I knew was that I was tired of being alone.
Swallowing hard, I forced my feet closer and gingerly slid into a chair across from him. “Dad.”
He set his fork on the edge of his plate and studied me for a minute. “How are you?”
I offered him a tight smile. “Fine. You?”
“Doing well.”
The conversation felt stiff and awkward, lik
e two enemies being forced to share a space. I stared at him, and the words fell out before I could stop them. “Did you know?”
His face crumpled. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but no. I had no idea. Until Fox told me what happened... I still can’t believe it myself.”
His expression bespoke of honesty and a slight bewilderment, like the news had blindsided him as well. I nodded a little. “I know, I can’t wrap my mind around it either.”
His gaze drifted outside, and I could practically see the regret etched into the lines around his eyes. For what he’d done, or for not realizing sooner what my mother was up to? I couldn’t be sure. He seemed to have aged overnight. He looked older, more ragged and run down. He looked exhausted both mentally and physically—he looked exactly the way I felt inside. I watched him for nearly a minute before speaking again. “What are you going to do?”
My father took a deep breath. “Fox has requested that I stay here until things are... settled.” He stumbled a little over the last word, no doubt thinking of how Fox might exact justice. “I told your mother I was on a business trip. Not that she’d notice or care,” he murmured.
I knew my parents’ relationship was primarily for show, and I almost pitied my father. “You’re welcome here any time.”
I hadn’t meant to offer it but as soon I said it, I realized how much I meant it. He was still family, still my father. Though he’d made mistakes, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.
His gaze jumped to mine. “Thank you. That means a lot.”
Silence fell again for several moments, and I studied the wood grain of the tabletop before my father’s voice drew my attention. “You look beautiful.”
I smiled a little. “Thanks.”