Her Secret Life

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  But it wasn’t Michael who’d taken her wind.

  Her joy. Her life.

  “You.” One word. That was all she could get out.

  The teenager stood, looking like he might be sick. If she hadn’t already been as certain as the beat of her heart that she was facing one of her attackers, she’d have known by the look on his face.

  Stark fear. Guilt.

  And...

  “You found him,” she said to Michael, not taking her eyes off the creep. It wasn’t the gift she’d come to his office to find, but she knew the boy was Michael’s gift to her just the same.

  Her lover hadn’t said a word. She understood that, too. He wouldn’t. Not in front of the kid.

  He was the one who’d held her legs together. Bruised her ankles.

  The one who’d been so inebriated he’d had to give up on the fun of raping an innocent woman to go puke.

  “Where’d you find him, Michael?” she asked. “I don’t have to ask how. I assume you traced him through the photos. He’s a local kid who downloaded one of them, right? I’m assuming he’s showing you which site he got it off from?” The two men were looking at each other. The younger one with such unmistakable pleading that she broke off.

  “What?” For the first time, she allowed her gaze to leave the creep long enough to get a full look at Michael.

  He looked about as sick as the kid. But his focus was on her.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded. She felt hot and cold at once and was breaking out in a cold sweat. She couldn’t figure it out. Wasn’t getting it. Why was Michael looking at her like that?

  “You know him?” Michael’s question sounded as odd as he looked. It made no sense to her. Of course she knew the teenager. That was why Michael had him there, right? For her to identify. And then Michael could get him to name the other two.

  This one, he hadn’t been the leader.

  “Of course I know him,” she said. “And you do know he wasn’t the leader, right? He was the puker.” She couldn’t suppress her shudder of disgust. With Michael there she didn’t feel afraid.

  And yet her skin crawled. “I’m assuming the police are on their way?” She was Doria. Sounding mean. In control. Disgusted. Doria could handle this and Kacey could fall apart in Michael’s arms later. Both women shook from the inside out.

  The sound that came from Michael’s throat was more animallike than human. He swallowed. And suddenly she was afraid for all three of them. Michael was going to kill the younger man and they’d all lose. He’d go to prison. And then her life truly would be hell. “Michael?”

  Had he been waiting for her to ID the kid? Had he not yet been sure? And now, faced with one of her attackers...

  He wasn’t looking at her now. He was staring at the other guy. Both men looked unhealthy. Ashen.

  “Willie?”

  She heard the word come from Michael’s mouth and thought she must be hallucinating. That she wasn’t handling the moment, coming face-to-face with one of her attackers, as well as she’d thought. Even Doria was struggling—too sickened by the whole thing to do her job.

  The guy’s chin dropped to his chest, his entire body racked with shudders. “Mike... God... I’ve wanted to tell you...and...you said she was a client. I had no idea what they were going to do. Not until they grabbed her. They were just trash-talking, like always. I didn’t know what to do. I had some insane thought that if I held her legs together they couldn’t...you know. But I wasn’t going to be able to stop them. I was trying to figure out what to do, how I could help, and then I recognized her from that picture on your computer and I thought I was going to puke. As soon as I was off her I ran for help...” He dropped his head to the table and sobbed.

  Kacey’s mouth opened. No sound came out. Her heart split wide. No blood spilled.

  “Michael?” She could barely whisper.

  One of her attackers was his own brother?

  The kid he’d loved and sacrificed for all these years?

  The kid he’d thought he’d finally reached?

  He didn’t look at her. Didn’t come near her.

  “Go, Kacey. Please, oh, God, please get out of here. Go to Sara. Now. Please.”

  There was no love in his voice.

  Willie had been the one at her feet. The one who mentioned the photo.

  And just as he’d told Michael, he’d run off right afterward.

  He’d just said Michael had said she was a client.

  “Kacey. Go.” Michael’s words were barely contained fury. She couldn’t leave him there like that. Not with enough raw, powerful emotion to do something irreparable.

  Enough damage had already been done.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  “NO, MICHAEL.” TWO WORDS had never made him feel so powerless. Standing there in his office, with the woman he loved—yes, damn it, loved—knowing what she’d been through... Those fiends had touched her physically—those beautiful, tender breasts—injured her emotionally, and he was the one who’d inadvertently let her walk into his office with no warning and confront her attacker...

  He’d have given his life to spare her that.

  His own brother.

  He felt like he was going to throw up. Or punch someone until there was little left to recognize.

  Despair weighed him down. Willie. He’d spent ten years after the accident loving the kid. Believing in him. Only to bring them to this?

  “I’m not leaving you two here alone.”

  Kacey sounded far more in control than he felt. But he knew what she did—she hid behind Doria. He prayed to God that the fictional character had what it took to see her through this.

  His baby brother had attacked the woman he loved.

  What did a man do with that?

  “I’m calling the police,” he said.

  “No.” Kacey’s instant and not at all friendly response kicked him back again. She looked at Willie.

  “Look at me,” she said. The boy, who was still crying, shook his head. “You will look at me, damn it,” she said. “I’m not moving until you do. I deserve that much.”

  Slowly, shaking, Willie raised his head.

  “I said look at me.” The words were clearly and separately delivered.

  The teenager’s head came up higher. But Michael knew that Willie wouldn’t give her what she wanted. He couldn’t.

  “Higher.”

  He didn’t recognize the bite in her tone. And couldn’t guess at how much this was costing her. How much of her light would be forever dimmed because of it?

  “That’s my chin. Look. At. Me.”

  This was futile. He had to call the police. To get his kid brother out of the room, away from Kacey, behind bars. He had to get her out of Santa Raquel before the darkness took over.

  Willie lifted his gaze. He looked Kacey right in the eye. He was crying. But he didn’t look away.

  “I want you to remember this moment,” Kacey said. “I want it to be a reminder to you, every second of every day for the rest of your life, how horrible it feels.”

  There was no belligerence in the droop of Willie’s shoulders, the trembling of his chin, the degradation in his eyes.

  “Now look at your brother. Look him in the eye. And say what you have to say.”

  “I’m calling the police,” Mike said before his brother could disobey her command. The boy would not take another ounce of Kacey’s power. Ever.

  “No,” Kacey said. “You need me to identify him or you have nothing to tell them.”

  “You already did.” Had she forgotten? What did she think they were doing here?

  “It’s your word against mine.”

  “Kacey.”

  “Look at your big brother, Willie. Look him in the e
yes. And say what you have to say.”

  Mike stood there, steaming with the need to put his fist through something. Trembling with frustration and love for the woman who was amazing him even then—in the worst moment of his life.

  Willie moved his head. Mike knew what was coming. His brother looked at his chest. His chin. His nose. And then the world shifted again.

  His baby brother’s gaze continued to rise, and for the first time in more than ten years, he was able to look right into Willie’s eyes. The soul-deep anguish he read there broke him.

  Broke his heart. Broke his spirit.

  He loved the kid. As horrible as he was, he loved him.

  “I wasn’t drunk, Mike.”

  He didn’t budge. There was no forgiveness here. But Willie had been told to speak. Mike wanted Kacey to feel the full strength of her power, so he made himself stand there and listen.

  “Ron brought a buddy and I knew I couldn’t let them come in your house, so I suggested we hang out at the beach. Carlton had some stuff, and some beer, and I just wanted it away from your house. I drank one beer, just like I said. I figured they’d smoke the weed, Carlton would take off and Ron and I would head back to the house.”

  He didn’t have patience for this. A vision of his mother’s face sprang to mind. His father’s anger. Diane and Charlie. Dennis...

  His entire family was going to be devastated. Once again.

  “Go on,” Kacey said.

  “Carlton saw her coming up the beach and said some pretty crude things. I found out later he’d had some other shit, but I didn’t know it at the time. I swear. I figure he’s just...you know...talking out of his ass. I figure we’re going to pass her right on by. By the time I know what he’s doing, she’s on the ground and Carlton’s ordering me and Ron to help him hold her down. It all happened so fast. I couldn’t just let him...hurt her...but I didn’t know what to do. Except hold her legs together. And then I see her face, and I panicked. There was no way I was strong enough to take him. Ron would just hold me back while Carlton...you know...so I made up some shit about puking and took off up the beach to get help. I see this man with a dog and send them down the beach while I call the cops.”

  “And you ran home.” Mike could barely speak to the kid.

  And yet...Willie’s eyes were begging him to do that. To help him.

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Willie said. “I knew if I said anything, no one would believe I wasn’t in on it.”

  “You were in on it,” Kacey said. “You left bruises on my ankles.”

  Willie started at the sound of her voice but didn’t take his gaze away from Mike.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I’ve let you down so many times, but you still stood by me. This last time, you let me live with you, and it was like everything changed. Getting out of that house...away from Mom and Dad’s hate...”

  “Mom and Dad don’t hate you.”

  “Get real, Mike. Of course they do. Everyone does.”

  “You were a little boy, Willie. Your finger slipped. It wasn’t like you aimed the damned thing.”

  “No, but I was the cause of what happened to you. And year after year, when you live with it and can’t move on, the death in that house gets worse. You were the wonder boy. The fun-loving dude with good grades and great looks and girls. You used to laugh all the time. When you’d come home from college, everyone laughed all the time. Then it was all gone. You’re serious all the time. All you do is work. No girls. No dates. No fun...and it was all because of me.”

  “Get over yourself.”

  Willie gulped. But his gaze didn’t waver. “I did. Last month when you saved my ass for the last time. When I lived in your house and saw how you’d made something so cool out of your life and were still wasting it on mine. I cleaned up my act and you were finally starting to laugh out loud again. You even went out of town last Saturday night, and don’t let anyone fool you, the folks, Diane, Charlie, they were all talking about how you snuck off to be with your mystery girlfriend...”

  Mike started. Kacey must have, too. Willie looked between the two of them, and Mike saw the second his little brother figured it out. Mike might have had good grades, looks and girls, but Willie was the genius among them.

  Or had been.

  “It’s you,” Willie said, looking at Kacey. “I held down my own brother’s woman. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.” He leaned forward, his hand on his head, rocking back and forth.

  “I’m calling the police.”

  “No, Michael. I’m not pressing charges.”

  “Like hell you aren’t.”

  She shook her head, and he knew why she was doing this. To prove to him that she was there for him. And he just couldn’t let her do it.

  They’d tried. They’d really tried.

  But the odds had caught up with them, and he knew it even if she didn’t.

  “I’m not, Michael. You can bluster all you want, but this choice is mine to make.” She looked at Willie.

  “Hey,” she said. Her tone not at all forgiving. “Look at me,” she repeated, and there could be no doubt in Willie’s mind that she was speaking to anyone but him.

  Mike was still surprised when Willie raised his head.

  “Prove to me you mean what you say. Show me you weren’t in on it. Show me you’re sorry. Show me you’ll do anything to make it right.”

  “I will. I swear to God, I will.”

  “Then tell your brother who this asshole Carlton is.” She looked at Mike. “I’m assuming you can find Ron.”

  He nodded, his throat too thick to speak.

  “Those are the two I’m pressing charges against.” She looked back at Willie. “And if you so much as fart in the wrong place at the wrong time, I will find a way to make you pay.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Don’t call me ma’am. I’m not that old.”

  “Okay. What should I call you?”

  Mike couldn’t believe it. It was as though the kid had turned seven again.

  “Nothing. You don’t call me. Unless it’s because Michael’s hurt or in trouble and then you call me Miss Hamilton. Immediately.”

  Willie nodded. “Okay.”

  “And one more thing.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You don’t breathe a word of me and Michael to anyone. Not even to your big toe. You got it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now I’m getting out of here. I think I’m going to throw up.”

  With that, she yanked open the door and ran out—her face a horrible shade of green.

  Mike had a sinking feeling she might not make it to the bathroom in time. He wanted to go after her. To wipe her face with a cool cloth and promise to take care of her forever.

  But it was a promise he couldn’t possibly keep.

  She was Beverly Hills. He was Santa Raquel. And he was related to the kid who’d held her feet in the sand while a fiend took away her dignity. Her sense of safety. Her ready ability to shine light on everyone she met.

  His own inner light had dimmed that night, too. And again today.

  This time permanently.

  * * *

  AFTER SHE LEFT the Stand, Kacey stopped by Lacey and Jem’s, ostensibly to drop off her bag, but mostly to brush her teeth, fix her hair and freshen her makeup. Then, before she could chicken out and head back to Beverly Hills, she drove to her sister’s office.

  She didn’t call first. Lacey would hear distress in her voice and muck things up before she’d had a chance to begin.

  She was going to have a fight on her hands. She knew it. She also knew she had to push through and win this one.

  Lacey was on the phone when she got there, but because it was lunchtime, she was free right after that.

 
“You want to go to Mario’s?” she asked, standing at her desk when Kacey walked into her office. In a skirt that should have been slim line but wasn’t, and a jacket that was at least one size too large, her twin looked...radiant. Even though her pregnancy wasn’t anywhere near showing yet, it showed on Lacey’s face.

  In the smile on her lips.

  The joy in her eyes.

  Kacey didn’t want to dim that joy. Not even a notch. But some things were out of her control.

  “I don’t want lunch,” she said, having so recently lost the contents of her stomach. “I know who attacked me on the beach.”

  Practically flying over the desk, Lacey took her hands, pulled her down to sit with her in the two wooden chairs facing her desk. Their knees touched. Her sister’s fingers were on her face—and she found some good.

  The good that would always be there. Her identical twin.

  Maybe that was why she’d come. To remember that.

  “Who? Did the police call you? Do they have them in custody?” She also heard the question Lacey didn’t ask. Was it anyone I might know?

  She wanted to cry. Needed to cry. But couldn’t.

  “No, the police didn’t call me. But they’ve been called. I’m fairly certain that if two of them aren’t already in custody, they probably soon will be.”

  “Two of them? What about the third?”

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Lacey’s brow furrowed and Kacey knew her sister was tuning in. “What’s going on, Kace?” She sounded frightened.

  “I know the third kid. Well...I’d never actually met him until today, but I know of him.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Michael’s little brother.”

  “Mike Valentine? He knew all along? He couldn’t have known. Is he the one who told you—”

  She broke off as Kacey blinked back the tears that she refused to give in to.

  “He didn’t know. And there’s something you don’t know, either.”

  When had life become so hard? When they were growing up it had all seemed like such an easy ride.

  Because it had been.

  For her.

  Not for people like Michael. And Willie. And, in a way, Lacey, too.