Begin with You

by Burgoa, Claudia

  37

  Wes

  Numb, I drive back to the house just to make sure that everything was closed properly and leave instructions for the management service. I request a deep clean of the place, plus emptying the refrigerator and covering the furniture. We won’t use the house until Abby comes back. I can’t be in Tahoe without her.

  We’ll be back though. There’s no fucking way that I’ll let her leave me without a fight. We belong together. I just need to figure out what to do to fix us. I book my ticket and go back to the airport.

  Once I arrive in Denver, Aaron takes me back home. My apartment is quiet. I hear Sterling across the hall calling Terry. At least I’m relieved knowing that my brother is with her. If there’s someone following her, which I doubt, she has Slugger beside her—keeping her safe.

  The next morning, I head to work. Around eight, I receive an email from HIB. Mason Bradley wants to meet in my offices at eleven. I check my watch and as I’m about to respond, I read it again.

  Mr. Ahern,

  I represent HIB. There are things we’d like to discuss regarding your inquiry. We’ll be in your offices at eleven. Make sure you’re available.

  M. Bradley

  He’s not requesting, but rather announcing his presence. It doesn’t sit well. Fuck if I’m going to let him just barge into my office. I send an email to cancel the meeting, but he doesn’t respond. I google the company, but everything redirects me to their website.

  “Hey, asshole.” Sterling knocks on the door as he enters.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I dropped off Abby and wanted to check on you.”

  I grit my teeth so hard, my jaw aches. She can’t just be gone. I hoped to see her one last time before she left.

  “She’s gone?” I thread a hand through my hair.

  “Oh, not yet. I’m borrowing her car.” He jingles the keys.

  “She’s leaving on Wednesday though,” he informs me. “She’s planning on driving northeast. She’s staying in Cleveland for a few days with a friend from college and then driving to Toronto.”

  “Is she in the building?” I stand up, putting on my jacket. Maybe I can change her mind about leaving me.

  “Yeah. She’s also transferring some files. I convinced her to work for me and keep the charity shit going since no one else has time and she genuinely cares.”

  “Grants,” I correct him. “Will she work for Mom?”

  “How would I know?” He shrugs one shoulder.

  “Abby’s been ignoring her calls. She feels like a poser for lying to her all these years.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” he warns me. “She’s feeling guilty about everything: keeping the truth from our parents, for Ava’s death. Survivor guilt is real and can make the person assume things that aren’t true.”

  “How do you know about it?” My mind is blown by everything that he’s been saying for the past few days.

  “My roommate during sophomore year had PTSD,” he says. “His brother committed suicide, and he found his body. I learned a lot from him while he was fighting his demons and trying to get better.”

  “How is he?”

  “It doesn’t go away if that’s what you’re expecting to hear. You learn to deal with it. We have to read about PTSD and learn how to help her.”

  “She’s leaving me,” I remind him.

  “For now. Maybe someday she’ll come back to you,” he sounds confident.

  I want to believe that what he says is true. Faith and hope, Mom says it all the time. That it’s all we have. Do we?

  Fuck. This isn’t about me, but I felt my entire world coming apart after she announced that she was leaving. Leaving me. I have no idea what to do for her or how to stop her from leaving.

  Then the answer hits me right in the head. Letting her go is the only way to help her. We’ve stopped her from leaving so many times. Ava, my parents … even me. If she had done it when she first thought of running, she’d be safe. She’d be free. I’m not going to be responsible for her sadness.

  “Sir,” Anita knocks on the door. “Your eleven o’clock is here.”

  I stiffen. Shit, for a minute I forgot about HIB.

  “Take them to the conference room.”

  “Well, I’m on my way out.” Sterling turns to the door and takes a step back when he sees two men outside my office. “Did you call the National Guard?”

  The men outside wear black cargo pants and plain black t-shirts. They’re in combat boots, buzz cuts, and the utility belts they wear seem to have several compartments, but neither one of them has a gun. I sigh with relief. I should tell Anita to keep security alert in case they become a problem.

  “What the fuck are you doing, Ahern?” Abby is outside her office, glaring at the men as if they were scrawny and a foot shorter.

  “Consulting,” I answer, taking my jacket with me. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  “You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?” She puts her hands on her hip.

  “I explained to you that this isn’t child’s play.” Her hands drop to her sides, forming fists of tension, her chest leaning toward me. “Do you have any idea what could happen to your family, you, or even the company if he finds out?”

  She wags a finger at the men in front of us. “These clowns are powerless.”

  One of them, the guy with brown hair and dark green eyes glares at her, then looks at the other man. “She’s going to be a problem. We should’ve brought Luna along.”

  I frown. Who is this guy, and who the fuck is Luna?

  “Excuse me?” Abby glares at him then at me.

  She’s ready to kick my ass.

  “Mason Bradley,” the guy with black hair and gray eyes extends his hand. “This is Anderson Hawkins. I wish we had met under different circumstances, Miss Lyons.”

  “Weston Ahern,” I introduce myself, shaking his hand and blocking Abby from their view. “Please follow me.”

  Bradley nods and then smirks at my brother. “Mr. Ahern, my sister’s a huge fan. I’ll be in touch. She wants to commission a few pieces.”

  Sterling, who never misses a chance to hand out his card, does it without batting an eyelash. He’s not bothered by what just happened. These men know who we are and I haven’t given them any information yet.

  I scratch my head. What the fuck did I do?

  “Mr. Ahern, this is one of my partners, Anderson Hawkins. We oversee logistics and meet with the clients privately because it’s overwhelming when we bring the entire team to the first meeting. I assure you that our two other partners are working on this case as we speak.”

  “Who are you people?”

  “HIB is a private company that provides high-security.” Mason Bradley begins “I began HIB a few years back. My focus was on security systems for international banking and providing bodyguards for high profile individuals traveling abroad. We’ve since adapted to suit the needs of our clientele.”

  “I just needed some information,” I stop him right there before he sells me his company.

  The man must have run a background check on me, and he’s trying to bank. Fucker, he has no idea who he’s dealing with.

  “As we grew, we created several subdivisions, one of which is human trafficking,” He says, pulling out his phone and tapping it a few times. “The information you requested set off a few alarms in our system. My partners and I don’t accept many cases, but this is something that we’re passionate about—child exploitation.”

  He pushes his phone my way with a picture of a middle-aged man, blonde hair. He’s fit, but not muscular.

  “This is your man. You called him Corbin Stanley. He has a few aliases, including Corbin Lyons.”

  “He’s not related to Abigail—”

  “We know,” he cuts me off. “He acquired the name once he married Olga Lyons. There were rumors that he ran an illegal operation out of his residence. Child pornography, drugs, even a prosti
tution ring too. It stopped after Mrs. Lyons and his daughter died.”

  “Ava’s death certificate says, Ava Lyons-Stanley,” he says taking his phone back. “Her birth name was Ava Gumbert. That’s Mr. Corbin’s first wife’s name.”

  No wonder it’s hard to find him. “Do you happen to know his real name?”

  “It’s Corbin Shelton. Ava had a twin brother. Shaun Gumbert.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  “He lives here, in Colorado. We’re searching for his whereabouts. We know that he’s working with his father.” He scrunches his face. “Our people found him on the web using facial recognition software. Shaun was also exploited as a child and continues to work in the same line of business as Corbin.”

  I flinch.

  “The FBI is aware of this case,” Hawkins interjects. “Their people are working with us to bring down Corbin and his son. We endeavor to take down as many pictures of Ava and Miss Lyons as possible. Though you need to be aware that once a picture is uploaded, it is almost impossible to get rid of it entirely.”

  “They are still pictures circulating?”

  They both nod.

  “We found several servers that belong to Corbin,” Bradley explains. “In Russia and China. We’re planning on taking the sites down by the end of this week, but first we need to find him.”

  “He’s still exploiting children?”

  Bradley nods once. “I’m afraid so. Every day there are new videos and images uploaded to his websites. We have enough evidence to put him in jail.”

  This devastating news doesn’t sit well in my stomach. The guy is even worse than I thought.

  “What do you need from me?”

  They shake their heads. “Nothing. To stay out of his path. Ms. Lyons is right. The man is dangerous.”

  My heart leaps like a wild stag in my throat. Dangerous.

  “She believes that she’s seen him and Shaun around the area.”

  Bradley leans back in his chair and looks at Hawkins whose jaw twitches.

  “Can you ask her to join us please?” Hawkins requests.

  “I’d prefer it if she stays out of this.”

  “If you want to keep her safe, she needs to be in the loop,” Bradley says forcefully.

  What he’s saying doesn’t make sense in my head, but maybe he’s right. I give in and head to her office where I find her pacing angrily.

  “They want to talk to you.” I enter her office.

  “What did you tell them?” she barks the question, already on the attack.

  I explained to her who they are and what they do. How they decided to visit us because they want to catch Corbin too. Abby’s eyes flare with anger and without a word, she stalks away toward the conference room. She stands close to the door listening intently to every word they say. Once they finish, she finally takes a seat as if absorbing the information.

  “You’d believe me if I told you what they did to me?” She narrows her gaze.

  They both nod.

  “But you’re not the police. There’s nothing you can do to him.”

  “We’re not, but we have a close relationship with the FBI. Special Agent Luke Galvez is in New York working with one of our partners.”

  “Corbin can buy people. He’s always got something up his sleeve to blackmail them with.”

  Bradley’s lip twitches slightly. He either finds her laughable, or he wants to get his hands on that material. I choose to believe the latter.

  “You shouldn’t worry about that, but I’m glad you told me. Rest assured that once we apprehend him, we’ll put him away for a long time.”

  “What about Shaun?” She chews the inside of her cheek. “He’s in the area.”

  Bradley leans forward, taking her hand. “We’re going to catch them both. I assure you, you’re safe.”

  “Corbin gets away with everything. The man still lives in my old house and hasn’t stopped hurting people.”

  “How do you know he still lives there?” He frowns. “You shouldn’t be in contact with him.”

  “I’m not. I learned from Peyton, an old friend.” She scratches the back of her head. I want to grab her hand and stop her from hurting herself. “This might sound crazy, but I sometimes feel like he’s following me.”

  She shakes her head and stands up. “Never mind. I hope you catch him and bring justice to his victims.”

  “Do you believe yourself to be in danger, Ms. Lyons?” Hawkins places his hands on top of the table and leans forward, studying her.

  Abigail’s back tenses. She fidgets with her fingers until her gaze finds mine. “Yes.” She walks away after crushing my chest with that single word.

  Hawkins tilts his head toward the door. “It might be unfounded, but she seemed upset at the possibility of the perpetrators being nearby.”

  “As we close the case, we can provide a couple of men to cover you,” Bradley mentions. “Just in case.”

  “Why wait?” Hawkins arches an eyebrow.

  “Unless you can stay for a couple of days, we don’t have any men available until Wednesday or Thursday.”

  Hawkins shakes his head. “Just make sure she’s not alone.”

  Bradley hands me a card. “Here’s my direct number in case you think of anything else or if you see them around. We’ll contact you when we close the case.”

  “That’s it?”

  Bradley nods. “That’s all. We just wanted to give you an overview and find out what you knew.”

  Hawkins pulls out a card. “If she needs to talk to someone, we have a team that will be happy to find her a program or a counselor.”

  “Thank you,” I say, overwhelmed by all the information. I have a sense of accomplishment and yet also feel like nothing was achieved with their visit.

  “I’m both happy and surprised that Ms. Lyons made it out alive.” Bradley shakes my hand. “Make sure you get her the support she needs.”

  I swallow hard realizing the magnitude of what he just said. He’s right. She could’ve easily died.

  Then, like thunder striking a tree, it hits me. “What if he’s been purposefully toying with her?”

  “How so?” They both stare at me.

  “He reported that she had a mental illness when Abby went to the police. In his statement, he emphasizes that Abby suffers from delusions. The last time she saw him, he swore he’d make her pay. The guy tortured her for months, and if what she says is true, someone really is following her. What if he’s just doing it to mess with her mind.”

  “He’s manipulating her,” Bradley agrees with me. “Fucking asshole.”

  “We should take her with us to Seattle,” Hawkins proposes.

  “We’re not going home just yet,” he answers to his partner.

  “She’s safe,” Bradley assures me, patting my shoulder. “I’ll be here by Wednesday.”

  I nod, thanking him.

  38

  Abby

  I draw in a thick, shaky breath. The heat chokes me as I step outside the building. My chest spasms. He’s here. I see him. My body is hard, heavy, and immobile. Help. I want to say the word, but I can’t make my mouth function. Air. I can’t breathe.

  “Abby?” Sterling touches my shoulder.

  I shove my breath out, suck in another. Once I feel my legs, I spin toward the café. I should be safe in there. The air-conditioning is cold enough to shock me back into reality.

  One, two, three, four, five. I count the quartz, then pull the rubber band and begin to count again. The steady count inside my head helps me regulate my breathing. Everything is coming back into focus until a big bang and a shattering sound explodes inside my head. I freeze in shock, staring at the busy counter and the people laughing as if nothing has happened.

  “Hey, are you okay?” Sterling squats right next to me as I’m trying to bring my breathing under control.

  Fucking panic attacks. I should get myself committed. Those men upstairs messed with my head. Of course, Corbin isn’t here, nor Shaun.
I’m safe.

  “I should leave tomorrow,” I say as I gasp for air.

  “You have to finish the wire transfers and make sure that you have everything you need to work remotely,” he reminds me. “On Wednesday we can leave for Nebraska.”

  “You’re coming with me?”

  “It sounds like a fun road trip. I was hoping you’d let me join you.”

  I clench my eyes shut and swallow my words and my thoughts. He wants to join me, but the man I want with me is his brother, who doesn’t care about my feelings. As much as I love Wes, right now, I hate him.

  “Hey, girl!” Peyton’s shrilly voice perforates the haze in my head.

  “Well, hello,” Sterling, who can’t seem to stop flirting, is already winking at her and sending a melting smirk.

  “Here, I brought you some lemonade. You don’t look so good.” She hands me a cup. I smile but don’t accept it. If I drink anything, I’m going to puke.

  “Thank you, I’m fine,” I lie.

  “Well, do you think you’re well enough to come with me tonight? Grandma would love to see you.”

  I tremble. Even thinking about going near my old house makes me nauseated. I smile at her though. She doesn’t have to know that her neighbor is a dangerous person. The less people who know, the better.

  “I wish I could, but I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  Her eyebrows pull together, her gaze narrows on the window. “Leaving?”

  “Yeah, taking a break.”

  “Didn’t you just move back in Denver?”

  I open my mouth and close it trying to remember what I told her.

  “Hey,” Sterling interrupts us. “Why don’t you two catch up while I go and run some errands. I’ll be back with your car later today.”

  “Excellent idea,” Peyton says clapping excitedly. “Tell me all about this trip you’re planning.”

  Thank you, Slugger, I think as he leaves.

  “Do you want something to eat or drink?” Peyton insists, but I shake my head walking to the soda station and grabbing a cup of water.