“What if I told you I had no choice but to open old wounds? What if I said they were going to be opened anyway?” I questioned.
He took another sip of his coffee, considering my statement. He finally left his cup alone, pushing it in front of him. His next words were filled with sadness and regret.
“Then I would say be careful.”
I could tell he was hesitant about telling me more. I was about to push him for the information, but I didn’t have to. He took a deep breath, fiddling with the paper in front of him. After he glanced around the coffee shop a few times, his eyes landed on me. The question he asked was odd.
“Do you believe in God, Mia?”
I shrugged. The question was one I didn’t have an immediate answer to. So I answered on instinct, as most people do. We always want to deliver the answer people want to hear, never our doubts about the subject because of the things that happened in our past.
“Of course… I mean, yes.”
He laughed. It was clear he caught on to my hesitation. “Okay then. What about fate?”
I squinted my eyes at him, trying to read between the lines. I came up with nothing. I hadn’t forgotten about the risk I was taking, either. I needed to get back to Avery’s apartment before Logan realized I was gone.
“I really don’t have time for this. I have somewhere else I need to be. What exactly are you getting at?” I pressed.
He placed his elbows on the table, leaning forward. “When I heard that Alek Johnson was getting married a couple of years back, I thought of two things. One, I felt sorry for the person he was marrying because of his known reputation…” He granted me a sympathetic look, before continuing. Detective Anderson wasn’t a person to dwell things. He was a man who often cut to the chase. “And two, I figured it would give the asshole something to do, besides being corrupt. He’s one of those men you can’t catch. He’s one with power and connections. He’s one of the ones we’re told to ignore because, if I’m being truthful, everyone is corrupt in this day and age. We have to differentiate the differences in a logical sense, and men like your husband often take an offense when they’re pulled through the ringer, only to be set free when their fancy lawyers get them off.”
I shifted uncomfortably. I’d heard the rumors, especially since the attack on Alek’s life. What the old saying? “The bad guys always get what they deserve.” I knew this wasn’t the truth because the person who killed my mother was still out there. He wasn’t caught. He just smoothly walked away, like her life meant nothing. I knew the bad guys weren’t always thugs with hoodies over their heads. The ones you often see reported on the news.
No. They were more discreet, blending in with the elite crowd. The bad guys I knew wore tailored suits. They drove Bentleys and Mercedes, Rolexes gleaming from their wrists. They rolled up their sleeves to do dirty work, then carefully rolled them back down after washing their hands to get rid of the evidence before they made it home to their wives and children. Before they drove through the iron gates of their million-dollar homes. I knew that life. I had been one of those children, and my mother had been one of the wives. My father was a man you didn’t question.
However, I knew enough as a child to understand the reason behind my mother’s drinking. If you had to sleep beside a man who lived a double life, how would you cope? A man who refused to change or listen to reason because this was how he supported your lavish lifestyle. It was a role many women couldn’t handle. It was a role that required you to turn your cheek, even when you knew you couldn’t account for your husband’s whereabouts the night before because his side of the bad was often left cold.
So yes, I knew most people were corrupt in a sense. I knew roses weren’t necessarily red and violets weren’t always blue. I also knew my husband hid many things from me and many of the rumors surfacing had truth behind them. Which was why I didn’t flinch or get offended as Detective Anderson voiced his opinion about him.
“However, when I saw this woman was you, with a different name, I paused. I wondered what this meant? Your family was ripped to pieces, yet you were spared, only to walk right into the lion’s den.” He was staring at me hard. His expression was unreadable. “What made you do it, Mia? Did you not see the signs?”
I turned away from him. My heartbeat had increased in a matter of seconds, and I didn’t know why. The conversation we were having had nothing to do with the reason I’d come to see him. I needed answers. I needed at least a small piece of the truth because I knew Anderson knew something, even if he didn’t know it all. Just because a case wasn’t solved didn’t mean there weren’t signs and clues. He was the one person I knew who might be able to help me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. My husband is not the reason I came here today. I came here to ask about my father. I need to know if you’ve heard from him,” I firmly stated.
I didn’t think it was necessary to tell him my father had reached out—at least I thought it was him. That would’ve been too much information. I just needed to know I wasn’t crazy to think it was my father. I needed to know that was possible. Detective Anderson didn’t press the issue.
“I’ve heard rumors. Quite a few people have been getting antsy about it. The ones who did him wrong. The ones who turned on him and had connections to your mother’s murder.”
The words sliced through me, making me cringe. The action was strongly noticeable. Thinking it and saying it out loud were different, but someone else saying it made it even more real.
“So yes, I believe your father is back. I also know your current position might cause some issues for him.” His eyes lit up when he realized something. “Or you might be just where he needs you.”
I stood from my seat. I’d gotten the answer I needed, and had run over on time. The idea of seeing my father again scared me. I had always been Daddy’s little girl…until that night. The night he vanished. My aunt had already made it clear that he’d never been missing.
He had been in hiding, but from what? If he hadn’t been brave enough to stand up for himself when they accused him of murdering his wife, what was he scared of back then? Why was he showing up now? I wanted to ask more questions, but I couldn’t risk staying any longer. He wasn’t willing to share any more than he already had anyway.
I started to make my way to the door without saying goodbye but turned around. The question lingering in my head was too tempting to ignore.
“Why do you think I walked into a lion’s den when I married Alek?” The question came out desperate. Was this some type of clue he was trying to give me? “Why would you describe it that way?”
He shrugged, taking another sip of his coffee. I could see the disgust on his face.
“When you finally open your eyes and observe the big picture, you’ll come up with that answer on your own. I’ve learned some things are far above my pay grade, but I’m sure a smart woman like yourself will figure it out fairly quickly now that it’s been brought to your attention.”
I walked toward the door after giving him a farewell nod, the question still swarming in my head. If I had been paying attention, I would’ve seen the signs before I walked out. The black SUV parked right by the sidewalk, the man in shades waiting for me outside the door. If I hadn’t been so distracted by the new information I had just learned, I would’ve had time to scream, but I was too sidetracked to notice any of it. The trap was set, and I walked willingly into it.
I was thrown into the SUV, which immediately sped off down the road. I had been kidnapped, and it happened the one time I decided to distance myself from the hired security my husband provided. Did I deserve this? Maybe. I had set myself up for failure. Did I have any idea who could be behind it? Not really, but I prayed like hell it was my father.
Wesley Black was a man who was off limits to me for obvious reasons, but I moved closer to him anyways–Indulged myself in his dangerous touch. Skillful hands. Sensual mouth.
Then reality slapped me in the face. My past sud
denly snuck its way back into my life. The lies. The truths. The regret. The memories.
Sometimes you don’t see the truth until it’s too late.
I can attest to that.
My name is Mia Johnson, and this is not a love story.
COMING SOON
About Brittani Marí
Brittani Marí is a writer and reader at heart. The genres she enjoys reading and the storylines she loves to create range from a sexy romance novel to fast-paced suspense. Her typical day when she isn’t knee deep in finishing a chapter of her latest creation or reading a book by one of her favorite authors consists of working her regular nine to five and hanging out with friends. The Illicit Affairs is one of her first stories she’s decided to share with the world, and she hopes you enjoy every second of it.
You can connect with Brittani Marí at the following:
www.brittanimari.com
Facebook
Instagram
Twitter
Amazon
Goodreads
Acknowledgments
To all of my family and friends who listened to me talk about writing and finally pushed me over the finish line. Without the support of all of you, I would’ve never made it this far. This feeling is truly amazing.
The Illicit Affairs Page 19