CHAPTER 14
BRAIDEN
Perhaps it was sheer stupidity, or perhaps it was hunting one man for too long that had warped my senses and sent my mind into a catatonic state of shock, but I ended up parked on the street in front of Rebecca and Emily’s house. Larz knew I was here; he had already checked the window by the front door to confirm it. I guess he was now wondering if I had the balls to knock. The fact remained that even if I was too big of a pussy to confront the blue eyes beauty, I needed to speak to her about her attempt to contact Jonas. Following a long suffering sigh, I manned up and approached the door. I barely had a chance to knock before it swung open. Larz stood there with an ugly scowl on his face.
“Good to see you too, old man.” I grinned.
Larz’s face softened, only marginally, and he stepped aside for me to enter. Emily was nowhere in sight.
“She’s taking a shower. She worked at the shelter this morning then spent the afternoon with Eli. She’s beat.”
Again the possessive need I felt for Emily made my body tense with jealousy over Larz’s relationship with her. Not that it could be considered a relationship, but he had a friendship with her that I didn’t.
“She made me stop by the library after we left the shelter today,” Larz went on, oblivious to the inner turmoil I was battling.
“Samuel already contacted Dillon to let him know. She sent another email, but so far there has been no reply.”
Larz grunted as he strolled into the kitchen and helped himself to a peanut butter sandwich. He held the jar up to me, and I shook my head.
“I ate at Benny’s this afternoon. I’m not eating again until I run at least five miles to work that grease off.”
Larz turned to face me, the sandwich frozen in his hands just shy of his lips. He was looking at something, or someone, over my shoulder. Game time, I thought.
I turned slowly, allowing a small smile to tug at my lips. Holy shit, she looked...heavenly. There was no other word for it. She had put on a little weight, her cheeks were no longer sunken, her breasts were a little larger, and her hips held a gentle feminine curve. Her wet hair hung almost to her shoulders. Her cheeks held a pink hue most likely from the hot shower she had just stepped from. She wore a baggy pair of flannel pajama bottoms with a long sleeved thermal top. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted pink. She looked youthful, fresh.
“Hello, Em,” I murmured.
She looked startled to see me. She didn’t speak, but rather allowed her eyes to do the same thorough perusal of my body that I had unashamedly done to hers. The female appreciation I saw in her gaze hit me hard. Her eyes landed on mine and her features hardened, any sign of desire or approval suddenly gone.
Larz made a small coughing noise and backed out of the kitchen. “I’m going to eat this in my room.” He left with a grin.
So much for backup. “Can we talk?” I asked. She nodded stiffly but didn’t make an attempt to move. “Maybe in the living room?” I took a few steps to the living area and Emily walked in the opposite direction towards the kitchen counter and sat woodenly on one of the bar stools. I sighed and moved to stand facing her, the kitchen counter gave me some measure of protection in case she decided to attack. “You look good,” I whispered.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a brief moment. “I don’t want to talk about how I look.” Her voice was soft as a murmur, but held a steely determination behind it.
“Fair enough. We’ll talk about the emails you sent to Jonas then.” Her eyes snapped open with surprise. “It’s my job to keep you safe, Em. Larz’s too. We had to know who you were trying to contact.” Her lips clamped shut as anger filled her pale blue eyes. “You want to go back to him?” I purposefully put a little command in my voice. Em sat a little straighter and pushed her shoulders back.
“You lost any right to my life when you dumped me here six months ago,” she snapped.
“The man abused you for eight years, Em!” I growled.
“Seven, his son got the final year,” she rebutted with a sneer.
I shook my head, anger clouding my purpose for being here. “Everything we’ve done—the men and women who came to protect you, the thousands of dollars trying to find him, the money for the private clinic—and you want to throw that all away?”
Emily stood, her little fists curled tight at her side. “I didn’t ask for any of that; I wasn’t given a choice. You took me away from him. I told you I wanted to stay, and you took me anyway. Don’t try and make me feel guilty for the financial strain you suffered at my expense.”
I flinched at her words. “After everything he did to you, you want to go back to him?” I asked, pleaded. I needed to know the truth.
Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but not a single one fell. “You don’t know me. You didn’t even stay and attempt to get to know me. Nobody gets it because I’m the one who went through it. The doctors, the shrinks, my sister, your team, they can all nod their heads and pretend to know me; they watch me with eyes full of pity, but none of them will ever understand what I went through, or what I need. Fuck you, Braiden, fuck the doctors and fuck everyone else. I will pay you back every cent you spent on me with interest, and you can walk the fuck away and get on with your life.”
She spun around and disappeared before I had a chance to say another word. Her outburst surprised me. It shouldn’t have because I knew the girl had a backbone of steel. I knew she was strong, but she was so far from the girl I last saw, I wasn’t expecting it. I couldn’t believe I had bitched about the money I had spent on her, because I would spend ten times that in a heartbeat just to help her. A moment later Larz strode into the kitchen, empty plate in hand.
“Sounds like that went well.” He smirked.
“Fuck you,” I growled.
He washed the plate and turned to face me, his face serious. “She’s right you know,” he began.
“About what?” I snapped.
“None of us can really say we understand what’s going on inside her head. What she went through...” Larz shook his head, anger causing his arms and shoulders to become rigid with tension. “She has confided in me about some things.”
“Like what?” I wanted to know. I needed to know. I knew Larz wouldn’t betray Emily’s confidence though, and he didn’t let me down, didn’t let Emily down. He ignored my question instead.
“What none of you predicted was her need to finish this. Her need for vengeance. She’s good at hiding things, even from the doctors. She’s smart. She can get around their subtle interrogations, and tell them what they want to hear. They pat her on the back, tell her how well she’s doing then send her home. In reality, she’s barely hanging on. Her days are consumed with thoughts of finding him, killing him. If the doctors knew how she truly felt, they’d probably want to put her back in the facility.”
“Maybe she needs that?”
Larz shook his head. “No, she needs to see this through. She needs to regain the power where Jonas Levier is concerned.”
“You think I should help her find him so she can kill him?”
“Yes.” No hesitation with his answer. It shocked me speechless. “I’m tired. I need to set the alarm, so I need you to disappear.” Larz waved a hand toward the front door, suggesting I make tracks for it.
I rubbed a hand through my tangled mess of hair and headed in that direction.
“If you want to understand what’s going on in her mind, you need to spend some time with her, and to do that you need to show her she can trust you. Don’t tell her what she wants to hear just to placate her. Be honest with her, Braiden. Tell her what’s going on, tell her what you know about Jonas. Let her contribute to this. If anyone deserves to see that man bleed, it’s her.”
Once outside I turned back to face Larz, who was standing in the open doorway. “What’s she got planned tomorrow?”
“It’s her day off.”
“Have her ready at ten. Tell her to wear something warm.”
Larz chuckle
d. “And if she doesn’t want to go anywhere with you?”
“Don’t tell her she’s going somewhere with me, it’ll be a surprise.”
“Your funeral,” he mumbled, slamming the door shut.
***
Instead of taking the turn off into my gated complex, I pushed the Corvette hard around the winding roads that twisted around the bottom of the mountain range. The thought of allowing Emily close enough to Jonas so she could be the one to pull the trigger, made me sick. Surely any sane woman would want to stay as far away from that monster as possible? If the situation were reversed, if it had been me who had been defiled and beaten, I’d want to find the fucker and watch him die a slow and painful death, and watch the life leave his eyes. Why should it be any different for Em? Because she was a woman? My need to keep her safe battled with my need to give her vengeance. She had already attempted to make contact with Jonas on her own, and that scared me on a level I had trouble comprehending. Braiden Montgomery didn’t get scared. So why was I trembling over the thought of Em back in the hands of Jonas?
By the time I made it home, I was still pissed off and confused. Bomber and Gabbie were sitting in the recliners in the living room, both looking far too comfortable in my home. A small pile of empty beer bottles littered the kitchen counter.
“I give you a night off and you decide to get drunk? Brilliant,” I remarked.
“Five minutes ago I would have said we’re not drunk, but this sweet little thing beside me just admitted I was handsome. Therefore, I am assuming she is drunk.” A cushion hit Bomber in the side of the head.
“You’re loco, I did not,” growled Gabbie. The relationship that had developed between Bomber and Gabbie had been curiously building over the months. I hadn’t really stopped long enough to give it further consideration than a passing thought, but now, watching the two of them interact, I saw the sparks that signaled more than friendship.
“You did, too. You said I wasn’t ugly.”
“Uh-huh, but I didn’t say you were handsome though, did I?”
Bomber clutched at his chest in mock horror. “You wound me, sweets.”
“Stop calling me that!” demanded Gabbie.
“You don’t like sweets? What about cuddle bunny?” Bomber’s facial expression was deadly serious and Gabbie looked ready to whip out her firearm. “No? Jelly Bean? Dove? Doll? Sugar? Stop me when I get warm—”
“GABBIE! My name is Gabbie, and if you keep this up, I will hog tie you and leave you in the backyard!”
“Hmmm...you want to tie me up. Interesting,” purred Bomber. “Sweets it is.”
I rolled my eyes and counted to ten. These two were going to be the death of me.
“Emily wants to take down Jonas.” That shut them up. “She has already attempted to make contact. Larz thinks I should let her.”
It took a moment for the alcohol haze to clear in Bomber and Gabbie’s mind.
“And you’re going to let her?” Bomber asked, the incredulous tone in his voice told me he didn’t approve.
“I don’t know.”
“She deserves it. He hurt her—badly—she should get to hurt him back. If it were me in that position, I would have already hunted him down and cut off his dick.” Gabbie’s words were said with her customary take-no-shit attitude.
“Blood thirsty,” Bomber grimaced. His hand slid down instinctively to cover his junk.
“The things we’ve seen and heard probably doesn’t equate to even half of what she went through. She needs to find peace, and if this is how she needs to do it, then she should be given the chance,” Gabbie argued.
“And put herself back in danger? What if he gets his hands on her again? What she went through then won’t come close to the pain he would inflict on her. She talked to the feds, damn it. Jonas’ entire fucked up organization has taken a massive hit. He’ll want blood—Emily’s—and not just a little, he will want all of it. Then there are the consequences of taking a human life. We’ve all done it, and we know the price you pay when you kill. Em shouldn’t have to carry that burden.” Bomber posed a good argument, they both did.
“Should we take away her right to carry that burden if that’s what she wants though? It’s not like Jonas is a saint among angels. No one will miss him, killing him will be no hardship for any one of us. Why should it be different for Em?” I wondered out loud.
“Because she hasn’t killed anyone before. It will destroy her,” yelled Bomber.
“She’s already destroyed,” whispered Gabbie.
We all shared a solemn look.
“I’m going to bed. Do me a favor and keep your weird sexually charged hostility down.” I left Bomber and Gabbie with their mouths hanging wide open and shut myself away in my room. The large black and white portrait that sat above my bed was a source of peace and contentment for me. Taken in the woods here in Claymont, it was a picture of tree trunks, as far as the lens could capture. I remembered the day I had taken it. It was a few days before Rebecca asked us to find Emily. At the time, my life had seemed so simple, on track. I knew what I wanted and I knew what I had to do to get it. Now, things had become complicated. What I wanted for my future no longer mattered. What Emily wanted for her future was now my concern. After peeling my clothing off, I slid into bed and forced my eyes shut. For the first time in a long time, I felt every bit my thirty-two years, and then some. Emily was right. I couldn’t begin to imagine her life. I wanted to give her the peace she needed, I wanted to give her back her smile, and I knew if placing a gun in her hand and sitting Jonas before her was what brought her that peace and that smile, I was going to damn well do it.
CHAPTER 15
EMILY
I was dressed like an Eskimo and I felt ridiculous. It was my day off, and I had no intention of going anywhere. But Larz barged into my room an hour ago with a plate of scrambled eggs and a glass of juice, and ordered me to get my scrawny butt up and get dressed. Dress warm, he said. Why did I need to dress warm for a day of TV, I had argued? Now I stood on the wide porch, B at my side, Larz and Charlie standing cautiously behind me, and Braiden Montgomery in front of me. He had forgone the Corvette for the more conservative dark grey Lexus SUV. I hated to admit it, but the man looked devilishly handsome. His black hair was a carefully organized mess, and his black eyes promised adventure. He wore a black jacket over a black shirt and black cargos that clung to his muscular legs, capped off with sturdy black boots. The devil dressed in midnight, promising wicked things that made women shudder with heated desire. The fact I could even process such a thought was miracle enough. Sure, I had watched the loving caresses and kisses between B and Charlie, and in my heart I yearned for that. Put into practical terms though, I wondered if I would ever be able to handle that sort of touch. After the evil that had touched me for so long, I shouldn’t have wanted it, but I did. Not only did I want it, but the depraved desires that went with it had me thinking I was, in fact, crazy. Maybe I was more damaged than I thought. Braiden’s grin was wicked, and while half of me wanted to run to him and drop to my knees in submission, the other half wanted to kick him in the teeth.
“We’ll be back in a few hours,” he promised Rebecca.
“She’s not my mother, and I don’t have a curfew,” I growled.
“Chill out, Em. Braiden knows I’ll worry while you’re gone, and after everything that has happened I think I’ve earned that right.” My sister’s tired voice caught me off guard. “Go. If you want to come home, just say the word and Braiden will turn around and bring you back. He promised.” And Shakhta always keeps his promises. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to block out the pain of that memory that seemed so long ago.
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I mumbled. I stepped off the porch and moved towards the passenger side of Braiden’s car.
“You have your cell phone with you?” B called from behind me.
“Chill out, B,” I threw her words back at her, waving my cell phone around in the air. “Don’t want you worrying a
nd all.” I was being a bitch and I knew it. I couldn’t help it though. Braiden had somehow managed to worm his way back into my life. A life he had no entitlement to, other than a massive financial IOU which I would never be able to pay back. I was angry with him, angry with the hurtful words he had left me with six months ago: You don’t need me and I don’t need you. Those words were burned into my heart and left more scars on the already damaged organ.
The drive was quiet. Not a strained silence, but it seemed as though we were both waiting for the other to make the first move. I leaned over and flicked on radio. Classical music filled the car and I tensed. Jonas liked to listen to classical music.
“Damn it, Dillon,” Braiden cursed.
He pressed a few buttons and found a channel that played country. Country I could handle, barely. It usually got a little depressing after half a dozen songs, which made me wonder why in the hell anyone would want to be a cowboy if it was that freakin’ miserable.
“Where are we going?” I asked after another ten minutes of silence.
“Surprise.”
I wanted to snort at his lack of information but instead chose to remain silent. If he thought I would squirm under the silent aura in the car, he was wrong. Silence was easy for me. Twenty minutes later we pulled into a small parking lot.
“Come on.” Braiden jumped out of the driver’s seat. I climbed out, slowly, wary. Behind us was the narrow road that cut through the forest. Before us was more forest, lots and lots of forest. Braiden stood at the edge of a path, adjusting a backpack while he waited for me.
“Is it safe to be here?” I asked nervously, wondering what sort of animals might be ready to haul my carcass off to their lair.
Braiden’s eyebrows shot up. “You think I would bring you here if it weren’t?” He seemed genuinely offended.
I took a deep breath and sighed. “Sorry, my shrink tells me trust issues are common in victims of abuse and rape.”
Tortured Soul Page 14