“I have to.” I looked at him and pleaded—tears forming in the corner of my eyes. “I don’t trust the cops. They never came for me—I had to escape.”
“I’d feel better if you just stayed here.” His tone was getting firmer and he was one step away from turning the request into an order.
“Then—will you go?” I let a couple of tears stream down my face. “Will you make sure they are arrested and call me as soon as it’s over?”
Please—please take this bait.
“Anabelle…” He sighed and then I saw a look of determination form on his face. “Okay, I’ll take care of it.”
“Thank you, Daddy!” I ran over and hugged him—confirmation that he was doing the right thing for his baby girl. “Please make sure this nightmare ends. I feel so much better if I know they’re—not going to ever be able to hurt me again.”
“I’ll call you as soon as it’s over.” He nodded and leaned back from my embrace. “I promise you, darling—this ends tonight.”
I hope so, but not the way that you expect.
My father left Prescott Manor and I watched from my bedroom window as he got into his car with several armed guards. A second car followed the one he was in, leaving Prescott Manor mostly unguarded except for a few guys at the gate. He was a king—riding into the battle. I would have been touched by his gesture if I really was the heartbroken girl suffering from nightmares because of her trauma. But that wasn’t who I was. I was a broken girl that had been shattered and rebuilt into a stronger version of myself—a princess who would be queen. I ran to my father’s office, unlocked his computer, and pushed a thumb drive into the port on the front. I could sort through the information later—I just needed to find as much incriminating evidence as possible in a short amount of time.
My father was careful with his records, but I had names that I could search for. A lot of the information appeared to be encrypted and locked behind another password that didn’t match the one that unlocked his computer. I assumed that was the where the real evidence was. I wasn’t sure what I would find, but I kept pulling what I could find until my flash drive was full. I made sure there was no evidence of my visit to his computer, locked it, and ran back to my bedroom with the spoils of my trip. I spent some time looking through all of the documents before his car returned several hours later. I already knew he wasn’t going to be in a good mood, but I had a role to play before I could return to my work.
“Daddy!” I ran to the top of the stairs. “Is it over?”
“Darling…” He sighed and walked up to me. “They weren’t there—I’m sorry.”
I broke down. I didn’t just start crying. I dropped to the floor in sobs. I hoped I wasn’t putting too much into it, but I was cracking his armor—making him weaker—trying to tap into any part of my father that could still be impacted by my sorrow. He tried to lift me, but I just went dead weight in his arms. He finally resorted to carrying me to the bedroom—and immediately brought me one of the pills that would help me sleep. I had to hold it in my cheek for longer than normal because he sat down on the edge of my bed as soon as he gave me water to wash it down.
“I’m so sorry sweetheart. We’re going to get them—I swear a fucking oath on it.” I could see his whole body getting rigid. “I’ll make those monsters pay.”
“Thank you.” I stifled a smile and gave me a sob instead.
As soon as he left, I spit what was left of the pill out. It had started to dissolve, so I wasn’t going to be able to fight off sleep. I had to give in when I felt it starting to seep into my veins. That was okay. It would knock me out for a little while, but it wouldn’t put me in a coma like I would have probably been in if I swallowed the entire thing. I drifted off to sleep and had good dreams—dreams of my father in handcuffs—dreams of my happy reunion when Brody and Rourke. I couldn’t wait to see them again. So much time had passed already. I hoped they hadn’t lost hope.
Please have faith—my oath is much different than my father’s hollow words. I’m not going to stop until I bring him down.
I woke up the next morning and things were a bit chaotic in Prescott Manor. I had slept much later than I expected—so much later that the sun was up in the sky. I didn’t expect the pill to put me out for so long. I felt like I was in a fog as I stumbled down the hallway. I nearly ran into my father who was sliding on his coat and rushing towards the stairs.
“Daddy what’s going on.” I rubbed my eyes and yawned, trying to snap myself out of the fog.
“We got them!” He grabbed me with both hands. “They were hiding at a cabin near the city—I guess they relocated there after you escaped. We got them, baby.”
“You—did?” My heart started pounding in my chest and the fog lifted immediately.
“Yes.” He nodded quickly, and a huge smile spread across his face. “They were taken into custody before I got the call, but—I’m going to fix this. I swear I will.”
Oh no. No!
Rourke
Last night
“What the fuck is this shit?” I walked into the living room and noticed that the television was showing our faces again. “Brody—come here.”
“What?” Brody’s words were slurred, and he was obviously well past the point of being intoxicated. “Oh, we’re on television again—that’s nothing new.”
“No, the reporter says that they have our location and they’re coming to arrest us.” I pointed at the screen.
“Nah, they don’t know where we are. No fucking way.” Brody tried to light a cigarette and missed it two times with his lighter before he finally got the tip ignited.
“Oh…” I blinked in surprise when I saw the location of the squad cars. “They’re at O’Malley’s.”
“Well, we’re sure as fuck not there.” Brody laughed and poured himself another drink as he exhaled a stream of smoke.
“You should go easy on that, man. What if we really did need to run? You can barely walk.” I narrowed my eyes and exhaled sharply.
“I’ve been getting a—fucking buzz every day. This waiting shit is killing me. Either I get drunk or I’ll be tempted to do something stupid.” He downed his drink. “Join me—come on. I’m drinking so much because I have to drink your share too.”
“No, I’d prefer to keep a clear head.” I sighed and sat down in front of the television.
Just in case.
I watched the scene at O’Malley’s unfold on the news. I had never seen anyone give two shits about an arrest in the South Side, much less actually send news cameras. My blood had a bit of a chill when I saw a black car nearby and realized Adrian Prescott was watching from the backseat. They only showed his face for a second before the camera cut away. The cops didn’t have an easy time in O’Malley’s from the looks of it, but there was no gunfire—at least that I could hear on television. I saw a few familiar faces get led out in handcuffs. They were South Side guys, probably wanted for other crimes—but they weren’t who the cops were after.
If someone called in a tip, and said we were at O’Malley’s… It had to be Anabelle. Maybe she was just trying to send us a message—to let us know that she’s still trying to help, even though we haven’t heard anything.
I tried to take what I saw as a positive sign, but I didn’t like seeing so many guys I knew get arrested because of us. It wasn’t something within my power, so I just had to swallow my guilt. Brody kept drinking for the rest of the evening, and when I was finally ready for bed, he was still going. The waiting was definitely getting to him. It was getting to me too, but I was finding solace in the purity of everything around me. I didn’t get to see much nature or think about all the things I was doing to myself when I was just a guy growing up in the turmoil of the South Side.
I’ll be able to enjoy it a lot more once this is all over. Maybe I’ll get a cabin like this somewhere—if Brody and Anabelle are willing to live there with me.
I walked to the bed where Anabelle slept and dropped down against the mattress. The per
fume had finally begun to fade, and her scent was gone entirely. It felt like an eternity since I had held her in my arms. I missed her. I couldn’t wait to see the transformation in her eyes when I got to see the woman that had replaced the Louboutin princess. She would probably be similar, but so much stronger. Our love would be consumed by passion and new understanding. That was what I truly needed—and I was sure that a woman like that would be good for Brody too. We just had to get through what was in front of us first.
At least we’re not in handcuffs. This place is a lot better than a fucking jail cell.
The next day
I woke up feeling relaxed, despite everything that was going on. Brody was passed out on the couch in the living room, so I grabbed a bottle of water and decided to go for a walk. I was starting to enjoy the serenity of fresh air in the morning. It was definitely better than the smog I was used to in the South Side. I walked the perimeter of the property, took some time to sit beside the stream that ran along the woods in the back, and just enjoyed the sun on my neck as it rose in the sky. It was so peaceful. I could have stayed in that moment forever—if Anabelle was by my side.
Oh well. I guess I should get back. Maybe I can convince Brody to start his day with a cup of coffee instead of a shot of whiskey.
I walked back towards the cabin and as I approached, I saw movement inside. Brody was awake and moving a lot faster than I would have expected considering the hangover he was nursing. I heard a noise—some sort of crash. That made my hair stand up on my neck and I started moving a little faster as I walked around the front of the cabin. As soon as I turned the corner, my heart dropped straight into my stomach. There was a car in front of the cabin—a sheriff’s car. A second later, the front door flew open and two deputies pushed Brody outside in handcuffs. I started to run, but it was too late. One of them let go of Brody and pulled his weapon.
“Stay right there—don’t move, boy. I won’t hesitate to put a fucking bullet in you.” He pulled back the hammer on his revolver for good measure.
“Fuck…” I raised my arms and dropped my head.
There was no way to fight—no way to run. I couldn’t take down two armed deputies on my own, especially with Brody in handcuffs. Brody gave me a stare that might as well have been a look of death as he was pushed into the back of the patrol car. The deputy kept his gun on me while the other approached me with a pair of handcuffs. I didn’t put up a fight. I knew that would just get me killed. The deputy with the gun looked like he was begging me for a reason to give him just cause. The handcuffs were put on my wrists and then I was shoved into the back of the patrol car alongside Brody.
“Still trust her?” Brody looked over at me and growled under his breath.
“Yes…” I nodded. “We got arrested by two local sheriff’s deputies. If she turned us in, we’d be corpses because it would have been Adrian Prescott who came for us.”
“Yeah, well…” Brody exhaled sharply. “The day is just getting started—and we probably won’t live to see another sunrise.”
He’s probably right.
We were taken to a small sheriff’s station outside of Chicago and put in a tiny jail cell next to each other. The two deputies that arrested us and the sheriff seemed to be the only ones on duty. I was pretty sure our arrest was the only interesting thing that had happened to them in years. There was dust on the bench where we were sitting, which suggested that it wasn’t occupied very often. I heard them making calls, celebrating—hell, one of the deputies even called his wife to ask her to make him his favorite meal. They were two steps away from breaking out a bottle of champagne and some victory cigars.
“You would think they just locked up Al Capone and the Zodiac Killer.” Brody exhaled sharply and growled under his breath.
“Yeah…” I shook my head in disbelief. “I guess we’re just a couple of fucking celebrities now.”
“Not after Adrian Prescott gets here—then we’ll be in a ditch somewhere if he doesn’t tie our bodies to the top of his car and parade them around town,” Brody growled again.
If you’re going to make your move, Anabelle—now is the time. Otherwise, you may never see us again.
It seemed that our captors were so happy about apprehending us that it took them an hour to even make the call to the police in Chicago. Not long after that, they all gathered around the television on the wall and turned the volume up loud, so they could watch the news break the story of capture. They were disappointed when they didn’t get a personal mention but didn’t let that take away from the celebration. I was starting to get a sick feeling in my stomach. We were not going to survive if something didn’t happen soon. They weren’t going to take us to jail—we would go straight to prison—maximum security. That would put us in a den of people that would be eager to do Adrian Prescott’s bidding.
It won’t be like jail where we were the two meanest looking fuckers in there—so much so that those rich assholes came to us when they wanted a hit on Josef Weber.
I waited, each second making the worry inside me grow. When the front door opened, and a police officer walked in with two men in riot gear, I also let out a breath of relief. That was better than Adrian Prescott. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see him walk through the door himself and carry out the execution. Regardless of who took us out of the station, we were definitely headed to our execution. There was no other alternative. Even if we did survive long enough to see the inside of a cell somewhere, we wouldn’t stay there long. There was no way Anabelle would testify against us, and once her father realized that—he wasn’t going to take a chance with a jury, even if he could testify himself.
“You two. It’s time to go.” The officer had the name Alvarez on the front of his uniform.
“I guess we don’t have a choice.” I looked over at Brody.
“What, you don’t think we can take an armed cop and two guys in riot gear?” He shrugged.
“You’re the one that let two deputies arrest us.” I stood and walked over to present my wrists for the handcuffs.
“I was hungover—and asleep,” Brody grunted as he presented his wrists as well.
The handcuffs were put on, followed by shackles on our ankles that were attached to the chain between our wrists. They weren’t taking any chances—not that I could blame them. In their eyes, we were very dangerous men. I stared straight ahead as we were walked to the front door. I halfway expected a sniper to take us out, but there were no tall buildings around. They brought an armored car with two cages in the back for transport—they definitely weren’t holding anything back. I climbed up into mine and Brody did the same. All we could do was stare at each other as we made the long ride back to the city.
“One last look at the sun…” Brody muttered as he stared out the window.
“Yeah.” I sighed. “It just might be.”
I’ve never felt my faith in Anabelle waiver, but I’m afraid she may be too late. Maybe it was a bad idea to let her attempt this alone.
No.
I believe in her. She’s no longer the woman who looked at her father through rose-colored glasses.
I’ll trust in our love until my last dying breath—even if it comes sooner than I expected.
Anabelle
I tried to stop my father. I begged him to take me along. He refused. I knew what was going to happen if he made it to Brody and Rourke before I found a way to stop him. I ran back to my room as soon as he was gone and loaded up my laptop. I turned on the television, so I could monitor the story about their arrest—and any developments. I hoped those developments wouldn’t be their untimely demise. Time wasn’t on my side. Actually, nothing was on my side. I started going through the documents—testing passwords against the encryption. It wasn’t like his password. It required sixteen letters to unlock—at least—it could even be numbers. I didn’t know anyone with a name that could be used. I tried Isabella’s name, my full name, my father’s name, my mother’s full name with her maiden name and Prescott. Not
hing.
“Come on…” I hammered the keys with my hand. “Think, Anabelle—think. What the fuck would he use.”
I closed my eyes and tried to think about my father—everything I knew—everything he had talked to me about my whole life. Bits and pieces gave me new combinations to try, but they were all met with the same red screen.
Access Denied.
Then it hit me. There was one thing my father preached—it was even on the wall in the living room. Family comes first. I typed it in with no spaces. I held my breath as I waited for the same red screen, but that wasn’t what I got. I got a green box.
Access Granted.
I was in. That was only half the battle. The files were complex and most of them were sensitive documents about the company. I started scanning them as fast as possible, looking for something—anything. I literally needed a smoking gun. I wasn’t going to find that in business documents. I ran down the hall to my father’s study. I unlocked his computer and used the new password to get into more of the encrypted files—stuff that wouldn’t fit on my flash drive. It was more of the same—financial stuff, transactions, normal stuff that people would want encrypted.
There has to be something. I’m sure there are business deals in here that are shady, but it would take a forensic accountant days—possibly months to analyze them. I don’t have that kind of time.
I kept scouring the encrypted files, feeling my heart beating so hard that I thought I was going to pass out—until I got to the bottom. There was a folder labeled footage. I clicked it and my jaw fell open. It was hours upon hours of recordings from Prescott Manor and most of it took place in my father’s study. I had no idea he had a camera in there. He recorded all of his meetings with his business associates. I scrolled and scrolled—looking for one specific date. The date he killed John. I found it and held my breath as I clicked on the video.
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