The Principle (Legacy Book 2)

Home > Other > The Principle (Legacy Book 2) > Page 4
The Principle (Legacy Book 2) Page 4

by Rain Carrington


  The smell of it came to him, making him hungrier, and he nibbled at one link of sausage while the eggs cooked. “Should we wake Stacy up?”

  “I’ve been wondering about that. Like we said, we’re morning people, but she’s likely not. But, if we don’t wake her up, she might have wanted to get an early start. You still have to tell the rest of your story, so we can brainstorm what to do about it all.”

  As he flipped two of the eggs over, he asked, “You know already, don’t you? You seemed to anticipate everything I was saying.”

  “I’ve heard rumors, read about the sects and had one witness back in my marshalling days that came from one. They’re run like the mob, like I said, and this one witnessed a murder. Couldn’t get the whole sect, but got the two men that did it.”

  “Like the mob, yeah. My daddy is definitely like the godfather. I saw that movie, and it hit me.”

  Steve started taking plates from the cabinet and asked, “If you don’t mind, how do you seem to be so informed about things like movies. And for not getting a lot of education, you’re well spoken.”

  “I read. Once Dean was back in my life, he pushed me to learn all I could, and once I could get out, finish schooling and maybe go to college. I don’t know about college, but I have gotten a lot of books. He helped me get an ID, which was hard with no birth certificate. I got a library card, and each time I’d go into town, I’d get books. I’d have to hide them, but I read when I could.”

  He stopped and stared at Matt, giving him a great compliment. “That’s admirable, Matt. Most would throw up their hands.”

  “I learned my most important lesson early on. Throwing up my hands wasn’t an option.”

  They plated the food and barely sat when Stacy stumbled out, grumbling, “I need coffee.”

  Before Steve could get up to make some for her, she went to the window and threw the curtain aside, squealing, “What the hell time is it?”

  “Five,” Steve laughed. “Sorry. Did we wake you?”

  She turned to him, her expression fighting between shock and anger. “I’d kill you if we didn’t appreciate the safe house.”

  Matt got up to get her a plate, soothing, “You’ll forgive him when you taste the food, I promise.”

  She took her plate and stared at the thick French toast and other food. “Jesus, I’m going to get fat staying here.”

  When he got back to the table, Steve set down a small bowl with powdered sugar. “All the girls I’ve ever known like powdered sugar on French toast.”

  Stacy’s eyes danced as she grabbed it, shaking some over the top of her already syrupy food. “You’re an angel. Or evil, I don’t know.”

  As they tried to eat, they kept being distracted by Stacy’s moans and groans of pleasure, languishing in her food.

  Matt was glad he’d just swallowed, or he would have choked when Steve asked, “Is that how women sound when…when…?”

  “How would I know?”

  Jumping with the realization, he turned, smiling shyly. “Oh, sorry.”

  “Haven’t you ever…? You know,” Stacy added between bites. “Oh, or is that a Mormon thing?”

  Matt squirmed on the chair and said, “No girls, no. My stepbrother has a roommate, though. I’d be over there, and he’d be drunk…he claimed to be straight, but whenever I was there and he’d been drinking, we’d…fool around. Nothing major.”

  “Sorry to pry,” Steve whispered. “None of our business.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Stacy chided. “It could be pertinent to the job.”

  “How?”

  Stacy winked at Matt and told Steve, “If he has a boyfriend or something, he could be important.”

  Matt didn’t want them to think he had a boyfriend. That thought alone made him crazy and he had no idea why. “No boyfriend. Barely friend-friends.”

  They ate the rest of their meal and Stacy continued to groan, making Steve and Matt laugh, but she didn’t seem to mind. She helped Steve wash up after, then made herself a second cup of coffee and pointed to the table. “Sit. We have to finish figuring out what we’re dealing with.”

  They retook their seats and Matt started, “I told you most everything. Sneaking out a lot, I kept in touch with Dean, who would help us get some of the girls out. The ones who wanted to go, that is. Not all wanted anything but to please their parents and the prophet.

  “It got scary asking. I didn’t have a lot of help. Another one of my brothers figured out about our little brother going missing. He was helping, but he was scared, really scared. I was mostly on my own, so now that they saw me with Dean…”

  “Tell me about that,” Stacy instructed. “Tell me what happened when you were beaten.”

  Matt shook his head, clearing it, trying to concentrate on the night. The flashes of fists, of boots, the words being flung at him…

  “You don’t have to,” Steve soothed. “Not until you’re ready.”

  “That’s the thing, I guess. I’m never going to be ready. All I can think of are all the people I’m not helping right now.”

  Covering his hand with hers, Stacy assured, “We’ll do what we can for them too. I used to be FBI, as I told you. Besides making money from my current job, I like that I can still help people.”

  “Why did you stop being in the FBI?”

  That was a sore subject for her, he could tell as she cast her eyes to the table and slipped her hand from his. “I, uh, fell in love with my boss, dated him, and when they told us to break up or be separated to different field offices, I quit. He didn’t. I felt like it was a huge betrayal, so I broke up with him anyway.”

  The smile came before he could help it. “That…sucks.”

  She grinned back at him. “Yeah, you look broken hearted for me.”

  Her eyes moved to Steve, who was gazing at the table, his own lips moving into a smile. “Charlie.”

  “Yeah, your buddy, Charlie.”

  “Sorry,” Steve grunted, though he didn’t seem remorseful a bit either.

  “She’s a former fed, and you are too, right?”

  Steve nodded, though he didn’t look up at either of them. “I guess it’s only fair to hear our stories, since you’re laying yours out. I was in witness protection, got close with the marshals who were helping me. We talked all the time, and I admired them so much, once my case was over and I was free of danger, I asked them what I had to do to join. I found out and I became a marshal.”

  “That’s making it sound easier than it is,” Stacy accused. “There’s schooling and then holding some sort of position in law enforcement for, what? Two years, isn’t it?”

  “It’s a year, or it was when I applied. I did the schooling and while I was at it, I interned with the marshals that protected me. The woman, Helga, she trained me, and that, combined with my two years of being protected, they took that. Helga was my lucky penny, as she had gone to college with the senior senator of New Jersey at that time. He spoke to the president, who put me up for the votes in congress I needed to be appointed. It was a long process, but worth it. I loved it, being the one protecting witnesses, and even one federal judge, instead of the other way around.”

  Matt was staring at him in awe. “You had to go through all that? Just to be a federal cop?”

  Stacy took a bit of offense, though forgave him his ignorance. “Marshals are special, Matt. They not only go through all that to become one, they are in charge of very important people during their tenure. Good and bad people. I knew a couple that did nothing but transfer prisoners from supermax prisons for court dates. Some of the worst criminals in the country. That’s a lot of pressure. Not to mention, like Steve, protecting witnesses for important trials. People with real targets on them, the difference between bad men and women getting to walk free or be in prison for life or put to death by the state.”

  “The proudest day of my life was when I finally got my badge. Then, I had my first anxiety attack, because I was sure I’d fail miserably,” he confessed, laughing a
little.

  Matt asked, “Why did you leave? After all that?”

  “I was shot. I almost died, and when I recovered, I couldn’t pass the physical again. I was crushed, but I’ve since come to terms with it. It’s not as tragic as I first felt. I did do my duty and saved someone from dying, taking that bullet myself. It’s all that’s asked of us.”

  “All? That’s a lot in my book,” Matt whispered, his admiration of the man rising. “I’m sorry you can’t do that anymore.”

  “Well, if I help you, maybe I can feel like I’m still doing that kind of good service.”

  Steve was looking at him, though wasn’t facing him all the way. It was a shy move, one Matt was familiar with, being that he’d been so like that all during his youth. He couldn’t take his eyes off Steve right then, seeing him in a different light and all. From the first, he’d seen the man as handsome, mildly interesting, but after hearing his story, that changed. Mild interest leaped to intense interest, and he wanted to know him better. Matt couldn’t imagine the stories he had.

  “Eh hem,” Stacy said, like she was clearing her throat.

  Matt and Steve both smiled as they turned to her. Steve hurried, “Yes?”

  Without saying a word at first, she grinned knowingly at them both, moving her eyes from Steve to Matt and back. “Just felt forgotten.”

  “That would be hard to do. From the grumbling and cussing Charlie was doing when he called me last night, I feared a beautiful she-wolf was coming to my door.”

  Her smile faded, and she did a bit of her own cussing. “That man wouldn’t know a she-wolf if she bit him in the ass.” She eyed him hard and asked, “Beautiful she-wolf?”

  “Yes. He described you, so I’d know you when you showed up. Beautiful she-wolf.”

  Matt watched her reaction, and he could see she liked what she’d heard, though she refused to smile, the pull on her lips visible. “What an ass,” she said, but there was no venom in her words.

  Steve turned to him, setting his calf across his knee. “Matt, how do we get inside? You have people who can help, but until we get some proof on your father and the others, the cops or feds or no one will take this seriously. See, with the religious freedom people running around, the fringe groups are taking full advantage of that, pushing their limits and their rights. If there isn’t good reason to raid that compound, they won’t do it for fear of reprisals.”

  Stacy added, “Not to mention, after Waco and Ruby Ridge, they’re skittish about it anyway. When they raided the other couple of FLDS compounds, they’d been investigating for years and had some of the girls who’d been abused telling their stories.”

  “He’d fit that,” Steve defended, though the look Stacy gave him told Matt that his word wouldn’t be enough.

  “If I get the lost boys to tell, they would be seen as having a grudge, I know. We’ve tried that route. The problem is, the local cops in the town next to King’s Mountain, some are related to people in the compound. Even if they’re not, they tend to believe the good, Christian folks there rather than a bunch of homeless kids.”

  Steve gently asked, “Your stepbrother, Dean, where is he?”

  Matt felt his hands shake then, and his moved them to his lap so the table would hide it. “I don’t know. I’m sure he’s called, but they had to have taken my phone. I was meeting him there.”

  “What exactly went on that night, honey? I mean, why were you off the compound?”

  Taking a breath and letting it out slowly, he thought of it, the whole day, knowing he’d have to tell them all of it, but unwilling to admit his failure.

  Surprising him, under the table where his hands trembled, he felt another one touching his. He looked over to Steve, who gave him a sure nod and squeezed his hand, stopping it from shaking immediately.

  With that, he knew he could do it, tell the story.

  “It had to happen fast. Um…this girl, the sister of a friend, she was only thirteen. Brandon came to me, bragging on the fact his sister was being sealed to an elder in a compound in Oregon. He was so happy for her, and I just wanted to punch him, scream at him. How could he be so happy that his kid sister was going off to be married to an old man? And that wasn’t even the real story, not that I could tell him. He was all in for the compound, polygamy, the whole thing.”

  “Sealing, that’s marriage in the Mormon religion, right?”

  He nodded to her and said, “Yes. See, in our compound, legal marriage doesn’t matter. We can’t legally marry more than one woman, so it’s the sealing in the church that means something. So girls can marry underage, the man will divorce the last wife he legally married so that the new girl’s parents can consent and sign off on their young daughter getting married. That started after some compound got raided fifteen years ago or something. The reason they knew that prophet was guilty of having sex with minors was that girls as young as fourteen had children with the older men there, and they could finally prove it with DNA tests. This way, that doesn’t matter. As long as the state law says that a girl can marry at any age with her parents say so and a judge, they get that…what’s it called?”

  “Loophole,” Steve gave.

  “Yeah. It’s Daddy’s loophole. The legal divorce doesn’t mean anything to the women because it’s man’s law, they think, not God’s. So, the man divorces the previous wife and marries the new girl.”

  He saw their faces and knew what they were thinking. It was the same as he thought, after he’d gotten his head on right after all the years of thinking everything that happened on the compound was normal and in no way wrong or bad.

  Steve’s grip on his hand tightened, and it felt so intimate. A man he’d known for less than an entire twenty-four hours, and his holding Matt, like a friend…like a boyfriend…

  He slipped his hand from Steve’s and whispered, “I need some air.”

  Chapter Five

  Sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on the front porch, the breeze blowing softly in his face, Matt started to feel like a coward, running out of the house like he had.

  Unable to explain it, even to himself, he had no idea how he’d walk back in, seeing their faces full of concern and pity. He hated pity. Sure, he had been born and raised in the compound, was brainwashed since his birth to believe all that foolishness, but his life hadn’t been horrible. Despite what he knew, he could still look back on all the memories of his childhood with love and laughter.

  Family, he had plenty of family, and he was lucky, they’d all been his best friends. Sure, they fought like all siblings and cousins did, but he didn’t think he’d change his life as a child. It had been filled with adventures and play.

  When Steve left the house and came to sit in the chair next to his, he wanted to try to apologize, but Steve beat him to it.

  Staring out into the day, the trees swaying in the breeze, Steve started to confess, “When I got shot and woke up in the hospital, I was scared. I’ve never felt so scared, not when I was in witness protection, not when I crashed my car once. I was afraid for my life, for the lives of those who I’d been assigned to protect, and not only afraid. I felt so alone. My parents hadn’t been able to get a flight yet, and I was barely in recovery, so I was alone.

  “My boss came in. This is a man who gave me my assignments, who told me I did a good job or when I screwed up, but besides work conversations, I think he’d maybe said about ten words to me in the years I worked with him.

  “He said, ‘I would ask how you’re feeling, but you just got shot, so I think I can figure it out.’ Then, he stared at me for a few seconds, and after that, he reached out and took my hand. He held my hand, this man I barely knew except for our working together, and somehow it helped. I felt like I could go on. I guess, when I saw you in there, you looked like I felt that day. I hoped it would help. I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

  Matt didn’t know how to tell him how much he appreciated what Steve had said. “You didn’t. It did help. I came out here because I…I don’t even
know.”

  “You might think we are secretly judging you, or feeling sorry for you, but that’s not how I feel. I admire your strength, man, I do. What it must take to see that you’ve been lied to by the people that were supposed to protect you from people that do the things they do. Most would hide away from the world, feeling sorry for themselves and letting that consume them. Here you are, after being beaten, and you’re worried about the people there, not about yourself. I truly admire you, Matt.”

  Feeling the overwhelming desire to hold him, kiss him, Matt tore his eyes away from Steve and closed them. “Th-thanks, but I’m no one to be admired.”

  He felt a touch, Steve’s fingers tenderly lay under his chin, moving Matt’s face back so he could look at him. “Matt, you’re amazing. And…forgive my forwardness again, but I’m guessing you’re terribly handsome under all those bruises.”

  With him still touching Matt’s face, and the little curve of his lips, his dark eyes staring into Matt’s, he felt dizzy and out of sorts. That wasn’t usually something he liked feeling, but with Steve, he like it. Too much.

  “I need to…I need to finish. I want you guys to know this, in case I can’t finish. I need people to know.”

  “Then tell us. Tell us everything. I’m not planning on letting you get hurt again, so it’s not that desperate that you get it all out and hope for the best. For your peace of mind, however, I promise you that no matter what, I’ll make sure this ends. Your people will be safe and those doing these horrible things will experience justice.”

  More, he wanted to kiss him more, but he nodded as Steve dropped his hand, the only thanks he could manage right then. Anything more and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

  They went back into the house, Stacy waiting at the table. She smiled at them, asking, “Everything okay?”

  “He’s great,” Steve told her. “He’s ready.”

  They retook their seats, and Matt knew Steve wouldn’t reach for him again, so he did the reaching, finding Steve’s hand under the table and grabbing it.

 

‹ Prev