Twisted Freedom (Freedom series Book 2)

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Twisted Freedom (Freedom series Book 2) Page 22

by J Grayland


  Turning on my computer, I waded my way through the emails waiting for me before digging into the huge pile of contracts stacked on the side of my desk. Since we took over the security of The West Bank, business had grown exponentially, with a major shopping mall chain, private contracts, and now a chain of fitness centers to add to the pile of the already extensive list of clients we already had. King Security was becoming bigger than we ever expected. Pulling up the free clinic on the computer, I sent a quick email with the address over to Paxton with a request for the building specs, including the surrounding buildings. Then, I perused as much information on the place as I could. It was a pretty small place, housed in what used to be one of the original council offices in Portland, with minimal funding from government agencies and various charities around the area, which was pretty normal for a free clinic. Within an hour, Paxton walked through my door with the building specs and a spreadsheet of everything: average patient count, average criminal activity in the area, and an all over list of everything that had happened at the clinic since it opened its doors just over three years ago.

  “That was fast work,” I told him as he took a seat.

  “Already had everything. What can I say? I know you too well,” he said with a wide grin.

  “Didn’t realize I was that easy to read,” I mumbled to myself as I flipped through the pages.

  “I heard that, and yes you are. To me, anyway.”

  “Nothing wrong with checking out the place. I mean, that is what we do right? Security?” I said a little too harshly.

  “Hey, back down there. I would do exactly the same thing if it was Lynda,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender.

  “Yeah, well, this bit of information here,” I said, motioning to the file in front of me, “is just between you and me. okay?”

  “Sure, not a problem,” he said, making the motion of zipping his lips closed, before continuing. “So, where’s Casey?” he asked.

  “Gone up to the penthouse to look over the paperwork. She thinks I’m interfering.”

  “She’s right, you are.”

  “I don’t care. I just want to make sure she’s safe,” I told him.

  “So, I take it she’s not happy with you interfering?” he said, making little air quotes on the last word.

  “Nope, but she wasn’t too happy with the little chat we had on the way here anyway.”

  “Oh, okay, so you and she talked this morning?” Paxton asked.

  “Yes,” I dragged the word out slowly, looking at my brother with curiosity at his question. “Why?”

  “Nothing, as long as you guys talked and everything is cool,” he said with a little nervous tremor coming from his voice. Placing the file down on the desk and leaning forward, I looked at Paxton.

  “Am I missing something here?”

  “Nope, not at all,” he said, glancing down at his watch. “Damn, is that the time? I have to get back. I have a conference call coming in soon. Just tell Casey to drop the papers off at my office when she’s done,” he said, standing and heading toward the door. I stood and followed closely behind him.

  “Paxton,” I growled, making him turn.

  “Yeah,” he said, turning and pushing his hands into his pockets, looking at me way too innocently.

  “You know you’re really bad at hiding things, right?” Looking at Paxton, I could tell there was something he needed to get out. He just had that guilty look plastered all over his face.

  “I’m not hiding anything.”

  “Liar.”

  “Really?”

  “Still lying.”

  “Nate.” He spoke with a plea that said, please, let it go, but there was no way that was happening, and I knew he’s saw the determination in my face when he said, “I just don’t want to cause any friction between you and Casey. She told me she was going to talk to you about the situation, and I don’t want to overstep any boundaries here.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Boundaries? Friction? And what situation?” I said my voice slightly rising in irritation.

  Taking in a huge breath before releasing it, he said, “Casey called me early this morning. She thought she saw someone out on the back deck at Jacaranda House.” He quickly added, “But there was no one there, Nate. I got there about ten minutes after she called me and looked the whole place over. She thinks it might have been a stray dog or something.”

  Saying nothing, I walked back to my desk before turning to look at him. “A dog?”

  “That’s what she said, and I thought maybe she might be right until she told me that she’d also received two phone calls with no one on the other end.”

  “What the fuck, Paxton?” I exploded.

  “I know, and I had the exact same reaction as you.”

  “So why didn’t you call me?”

  “I was going to, but Casey said that she was going to talk to you this morning about it.”

  “Damn that stubborn woman!” I spat out.

  “Nate, I…” Paxton started to say, but I put up my hand to stop him.

  “It’s okay. I know what a force she is to reckon with, Paxton, but you still should have told me.” My words sounded harsher than I wanted them to, so I softened my tone. “Just don’t listen to her the next time, alright?” I said, and Paxton just nodded.

  After Paxton left my office, I sat and turned my chair toward the glass wall of windows, staring at the blue sky beyond it and contemplating what Paxton had told me before he left. Was it Peterson again? Was he trying to push my buttons? Because if he was, it was a huge mistake on his part, and if I needed to pay him another visit, this time there wouldn’t be any kid glove treatment for him. Getting up and slowly starting to pace my office floor, I tried to think of anyone else. Sullivan wasn’t a threat anymore, but if it wasn’t Peterson, then who? I needed to talk to Casey and find out exactly what happened with the visitor and the phone calls or I would end up going around in circles and tying myself in what could only be unnecessary knots.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Casey

  I left Nate’s office with the papers clutched firmly in my hand. I took the lift up to the penthouse. I hadn’t been here for what felt like weeks, but as I stepped out into the tiled foyer, I inhaled the sweet smell of fresh flowers. Sure enough, sitting on the kitchen island was an arrangement of white and red roses in a crystal cut vase. A card was propped in front of it. I picked up the small, silver envelope and slid out the card. I recognized Nate’s heavy, yet elegant, handwriting with the words, “I love you,” written on it. I leaned into the small buds and breathed in their beautiful scent while holding the small card to my chest as I smiled at his thoughtfulness. Now I felt like crap for giving him a hard time. Pulling myself up onto the stool, I sat for a while, just staring at the flowers and silently kicking myself for being angry with him this morning. I started to read through the paperwork that Paxton had given me. It was all standard protocol, no surgical practice unless under supervision, no prescription writing, insurance cover while I worked at the clinic, blah, blah, blah. I knew it was going to be hard to work under someone’s supervision considering my surgical background, but I also knew it would be part of the parcel, and I was actually really just glad to be getting back into what I knew. I had to admit I was pretty excited about it.

  I had just signed my name at the bottom of the page accepting all of their conditions when I heard the ding of the lift and the doors slide open. Slipping off the stool, I watched Nate as he walked into the kitchen and pulled a glass from one cupboard and a bottle of Jack from another before pouring himself a drink and swallowing a huge mouthful before putting the glass down on the bench. When his eyes focused on mine, I knew something was wrong. The bubbling fury behind his stare was difficult to miss.

  “Something wrong?” I asked tentatively.

  “That depends,” he alm
ost growled.

  “On?”

  “On what you have no need to tell me.”

  When I saw that twitchy muscle in his jaw start to pulsate, I knew I was in some deep shit, but for what? I had no idea. I casually looked around the penthouse, up at the ceiling, chewing at my bottom lip and generally trying to look like I was deep in thought when he said through gritted teeth, “Are you kidding me, Casey?”

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out why you’re so pissed at me.”

  “So while I was away, nothing happened?” he growled.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Are you sure about that?” he asked, and now I was starting to get annoyed.

  “Can we just stop playing twenty questions and just please explain to me what has got your boxer shorts in a twist?” I said, placing my hands on my hips and facing him as he walked around the kitchen island and stood in front of me.

  “So, seeing someone out on the back deck at the beach house in the early hours of the morning isn’t out of the ordinary? Or is that something that frequently happens? And the strange phone calls, also not out of the ordinary?” his words dripped with so much sarcasm and bite that I actually cringed.

  “Oh,” was the only word that came out because now I knew why he was so combustible.

  “Yeah, ‘oh.’” He emphasized my own word, causing me to break his intense eye contact and look down at my shoeless feet.

  “So as I said, is there something you need to tell me?” he reiterated.

  “Not much point now, you seem to know it all,” I said, lifting my head to look straight back into his eyes. I watched as they moved around, searching mine for an answer to his question.

  “I want to hear it from you,” he finally said, and when I walked over to sit on one of the couches, he sat on the coffee table in front of me. Great, he was going to do his usual trick of fencing me in so I would have no escape from this conversation.

  “I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, but you came back and fucked the sense out of me, and I forgot. I didn’t think it was a big deal anyway. I told Paxton I was probably overreacting.”

  His eyebrow quirked, and he said, “Everything that happens to you or in your life is a big deal to me.”

  “Look, I just got spooked because I was on my own and Chance started growling at something outside. When I went to look out of the window, I just saw a shadow, that’s all. It was probably a stray dog or something,” I shrugged.

  “If it was nothing, why did it scare you so much that you called Paxton? I know you too well, Casey, and it would take a lot more than a shadow of a stray animal to scare you into to calling for help.”

  Looking at the smug look on his face was very frustrating because he was right, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. “I don’t know, I guess I panicked.”

  “And the phone calls?”

  “I don’t know. Telemarketers? Wrong number?” I looked at him and watched as he rubbed a hand through his hair and down his face.

  “Seems a little coincidental, don’t you think?” he said, cocking his head to one side.

  “I don’t know, you’re the security expert,” I said shrugging.

  “I wish you would have told me,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head.

  “Look, I think we both have become stuck in a world of watching our backs and living a very fragile and suspicious life since we met. And just maybe, we might be looking for something that’s not there and can be explained by something simple, but out of the ordinary, and just coincidental,” I said, placing my hands on top of his thighs. “I just don’t want you to spend so much time worrying about me or my safety, Nate.”

  “Well, I can’t promise you that, baby,” he said, his body slightly losing the tension in it.

  “I know, and I don’t expect you to, and I love that you want to protect me, but at some point, we need to live, Nate, and not in a protective bubble.” This time, when his eyes met mine, the anger had disappeared and was replaced with a softness and an understanding of what I was trying to tell him.

  “All I can do is try, but you need to promise me that if anything like this happens again, you’ll tell me, okay?” he said, taking both of my cheeks in his hands.

  “I promise,” I said, nodding, and his lips gently brushed against mine.

  On the way back to Jacaranda House, we talked about the paperwork for the free clinic, and just as I thought, he had already read over them and didn’t see any problems, although he did stipulate, again, that I would be driven to and from the clinic by Nick. With an eye roll, I let him have his way with that. If it would make him feel better, then so be it.

  Once we got home, I was relieved to see that the house was still in one piece and Chance hadn’t decided to eat any of the furniture. Nate took him out for a walk on the beach, while I got stuck preparing dinner. I placed some fresh prawns that we had picked up on the way home into a container with a marinade and placed it into the fridge. By the time a heavily breathing Nate walked in the back door, closely followed by a panting dog, I had everything in the pan cooking. As I loaded up two plates, Nate opened up a bottle of Riesling, pouring us each a glass. We sat out on the deck, enjoying our meal while watching the moon dance on the rolling waves coming into shore. A wonderful, soft breeze encircled us as we ate and chatted while sipping the wine. It was a perfect end to the day.

  The next morning, after Nate left, my fingers were itching to pick up the diary, but I paced myself by doing the laundry, then taking Chance out for a walk before grabbing it and flopping on the couch. I pulled my legs up and tucked them under me before finding the last page I had read. After my birth, there seemed to be huge blanks between dates until my 1st birthday, where apparently I had been given a small party to celebrate. Although upon reading the entry, it seemed more like one of her dinner parties, as no children attended, just some friends of my parents.

  Flipping through the pages, the breaks between her entries seemed to get even bigger, and anything she did write was always about work or the most important person in her life…her. And even though I didn’t remember ever taking a vacation with my parents, there were entries made about ones they had taken that I had no recollection of. The next mention of me was on my 10th birthday.

  1st March 1996

  What a dreadful day it was today, David had insisted that we have a small dinner for friends to celebrate the child’s birthday, and I had brought her a beautiful, quite expensive white silk dress to wear. The ungrateful child stained it by dropping food down the front, absolutely ruining it. I was so embarrassed that I sent her straight up to her room for the rest of the night without finishing her meal. I’m sure my guests were appalled at her table manners and the ghastly animal we had brought into this world.

  I jumped and slammed the book closed when there was a knock at the door. Placing the diary on the table, I tried to fight my way past Chance as he weaved in and around my legs, finally reaching the door and opening it to Carmel’s smiling face.

  “Hey, honey, how are you doing?”

  “I’m good, is something wrong?” I asked her, a little perplexed at her coming by.

  “No, why, sugar?” she asked, walking past me and into the kitchen, stopping to pat an excited Chance on her way.

  “No reason. I just didn’t expect you today, that’s all.”

  “Oh, shit, I should have called before I turned up on your doorstep shouldn’t I have?” she asked, looking a little crestfallen.

  “No, no it’s fine. Just unexpected,” I said, smiling at her.

  “Is it a bad time?”

  “No, it’s fine, honestly”

  “Good, because I brought us some homemade apple pie that’s still warm, so you need to brew us up some coffee, girl,” she said as she pulled out a covered pie plate from the basket she was carrying and sl
id it onto the table, right next to the diary. I saw her eyes glance at it then back to me. “Did I disturb you from reading a good book, honey?”

  “I wouldn’t say it was a good book,” I said, grimacing. “It’s my mother’s diary.”

  “Oh, wow, how exciting,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “I wouldn’t say that either.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “I’ll fix us some coffee,” I said, walking into the kitchen. I pulled two mugs out of the cupboard and handed her two small plates for the pie. As we sat down at the kitchen table across from each other, the smell of the pie made my mouth water. The pastry was thick and buttery with slices of apple coated in brown sugar and cinnamon spilling from it.

  “Oh, my God, this is delicious,” I said with a moan as soon as I placed a spoonful into my mouth.

  “It’s my grandma’s recipe. She always did make a tasty pie. Just you mind you save some of it for Mr. King now,” she said, pointing an accusatory spoon in my direction, causing me to smile and give her a nod.

  “So, you want to talk about it?” Carmel asked, a more serious but cautious tone to her voice. I wasn’t sure what she was referring to until I saw her eyes drop to the diary. Placing my spoon down onto my plate, I felt my shoulders sag in response.

  “It’s complicated,” I sighed.

  Placing her mug of coffee down on the table, she reached across and placed her hand on top of mine. “Honey, I know you have a lot of things in your past that you keep private, and I respect that, but in all the time we’ve spent together, I can see that whatever it was, it hurt you bad, and I have seen it in your eyes many times. I’ve also seen you wash that pain away just as quickly as it comes. There’s nothing wrong with showing you’re in pain, but sometimes you need to realize that you have a whole bunch of people around you to help you carry it now, and I’d like to think I am one of those people.”

  “You are, very much so,” I said with so much honesty I felt it stinging the back of my eyes.

 

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