Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3

by Mitchell, Kennedy L.

  I take a step out of Trey's tight embrace. “I didn't open that one yet. It wasn't labeled.”

  “Could be malware of some kind.”

  I shake my head at T's guess. “No. He wouldn't go through all this just to plant some kind of listening software on my computer.”

  “It's Russia.” Trey's tone is cautious.

  “It's Vlad,” I respond. Reaching out, I pluck it from T's pinched fingers and pull it close, inspecting the small flash drive. “Only one way to find out.”

  “You still logged off the Wi-Fi and servers?”

  I nod at T. I might put my underwear on backward, but I'm not that much of an idiot to load this while logged on to the government intranet.

  The small metal device clicks into place easily. A slight whirring sound comes from my government-issued, state-of-the-art laptop before the external drive pops up on the screen. I steal a quick look at both men before clicking on the little icon.

  I hold a shallow breath as it opens.

  A small blue folder is all it contains.

  The label of that folder causes my eyes to widen. I hover a finger over the mouse, not clicking on it just yet.

  “The favor,” I breathe out. A heavy weight seems to settle in the office. Once again, pressure builds behind my chest. Warmth seeps over my shoulder just before Trey's face aligns next to mine.

  I swallow, waiting for him to give me the go-ahead to open it. Not because I'm worried that Vlad put some kind of malicious software in there but because whatever’s inside this folder could change Trey's life. Forever. This folder could condemn his parents and/or Jessica.

  Once we see what's inside, there's no going back.

  “Open it,” Trey says, his breath brushing against my cheek. I hesitate. Without looking away from the screen, he covers my hand with his own and clicks the mouse for me. “Let's take a look at what my parents have been hiding.”

  Sometimes the truth hurts.

  And what pops up on the screen confirms that theory.

  23

  Trey

  The vibrations between my thighs and the rumbling of my idling bike cut off with a flick of my thumb. Not ready to view the home I was raised in just yet, I lock my gaze on the glossy black paint of my bike. It's strange the number of warring emotions that churn inside me. Agony, anger, sadness, hate. There isn't one that outweighs the other, each taking a few seconds to wrap around my heart and soul before shuttering to the next. It’s fucking exhausting. I’d ask Randi if this is how women feel most of the time, their emotions all over the place, except I don’t want to die, so I’ll keep the thought to myself.

  I wish there was only hate and anger to deal with since there isn’t any love lost between me and my parents. But yet they are still my parents. Even with Mother's manipulating behavior, a small part of me always wanted just a portion of her love, for her to love me. I shake that thought out of my head and tug the tight helmet off. Immediately the sweat that was trapped beneath slides down my neck and jaw.

  Being raised privileged came with high costs, and not being loved was one of them. I did have Gerard and his wife filling in some of the gaps, but the hole left behind by an absent and cruel parent is nearly impossible to fill. Maybe that's why I fell so hard for Randi. I saw that she gave that love willingly and without strings, even giving up a piece of her soul for the millions of Americans she’ll never know personally.

  Fuck, do I have mommy issues?

  A few chunks of damp dark hair shift into my line of vision. Maybe I should see a shrink after all this. If I can afford one, that is.

  My gut bottoms out at the thought of my cushy lifestyle going away. Swallowing, I look to the massive estate. If I go through with confronting them, all this will be gone. My trust fund, the safety net, everything. If I truly thought this day would come to fruition, I would've invested the monthly income from the trust. Done something smart with it instead of spending it on… well, everything but saving.

  I'll have to figure out that part of this fucked-up situation later.

  At my back, an engine cuts off, settling a heavy silence around the quiet estate.

  With a groan, I hike my leg over the bike and rest the helmet on the seat I just vacated as I turn to the two approaching men. Both wear the standard-issue black suit and typical grim face of a federal employee. The one on the right nods, indicating they're ready.

  “Wait here a minute,” I say, glancing back to the house. The front door opens, Gerard stepping out, his weathered face full of worry. “I want a word alone with them first.”

  Both nod and retreat to their dark SUV, no doubt ready to get out of the heat. I wait until they’re back in the Suburban before I move toward the house.

  “Gerard,” I say, unable to keep the sadness from my voice. “Where are they?”

  “In the sunroom, as you requested.” I move past, not meeting his eyes, only to have him grip my bicep, bony fingers digging into the exposed skin. “What's going on, Trey?”

  I close my eyes and fight the grief pounding through my veins. I'm not only about to alter my life forever but his too. Who knows what will happen to my parents once all this gets out? At least they didn't skip town after I called yesterday to schedule this meeting. That alone confirms they have zero clue as to why I’m here.

  After reading through the files in the “Favor” folder yesterday, I was ready to storm over here and beat my dad to a pulp. Randi and Tank held me back long enough to calm my rage and form a plan. A plan of action, really.

  First, I confront my parents, and then we tackle confronting Birmingham later this evening. One fucker at a time.

  “Please tell me you didn't know.” My voice cracks. Turning, I search his confused face. My heart breaks a little more. “Tell me you didn't know about my dad, about what he does outside the house.”

  His bushy white brows draw together. “I don't understand.”

  A bit of the tension releases from my chest. I knew deep down Gerard didn't know, but still I had to ask to know for sure. Reaching out, I grip his thin shoulder and give a gentle squeeze, not wanting to break the man in two. The scratchy material of his uniform scrapes against my palm as I pull away.

  Only the heavy thump of my boots sounds down the long dark hallway. Normally when I’m in this house, a type of darkness encases me. Maybe it’s from all those years of this being an estate, never a home; it made every inch cold and in turn froze me for nearly two decades. But today is different. Today I hold all the cards, and I know who they really are. I no longer want their approval or their love.

  The closer I get to the sunroom, the more anger trumps the other emotions. Who cares what happens to me? Fuck their money that they’ve held over my head. I'll land on my feet. But my father… that’s a different story. Today he’ll be exposed and held accountable.

  I swear steam sizzles off my palm as I tug the gold metal lever down to release the door latch and push it open. My steps falter at the normalcy I’m about to explode into chaos. Everything looks as it should, as it always has. Sparkling clean, sun pouring through the thick windows. The AC on full blast so the room remains cool unlike the hot summer temperatures outside.

  “Trey, darling.” Mother reclines on her favorite chaise, a glass of champagne in her hand. Jessica sits at her feet, a full glass of bubbling liquid between her fingers as well. Mother tilts her head, catching my scrutiny of their drink of choice at ten in the morning. “We're celebrating, of course.”

  “Celebrating.”

  She nods as that snakelike smile I've loathed my entire life, a little plumper nowadays, spreads across her wrinkle-free face.

  “Yes, it's why you called us all here. To finally accept your role in this family, leading the Benson name into political fame, and to set a date for the formal engagement announcement with the lovely Jessica and her family. And hopefully narrow down dates for the wedding too while we’re all here.” Reaching out, she clinks her glass against Jessica's.

  I ignore her
and glance around the room. “Where's Dad?”

  “Behind you, son.”

  His voice triggers the building agony and rage to let loose. I don’t think about my actions, only react to my exploding emotions with a bellow as I twist around, putting all my strength behind the sailing knuckles. His eyes widen in pure shock before cringing shut as my fist slams against the side of his face. He stumbles to the side, arm out in a desperate move to catch his balance before his knees buckle under the pain and he falls to the floor. A high-pitched scream pierces the room from behind me, either Mother or Jessica, I don't give a rat’s ass.

  “You sick motherfucker,” I spit. His face pales, no doubt seeing I’m on the verge of killing him with my bare hands. Palms smacking the hardwood floor, he scurries back, hands and feet slipping beneath his weight as he retreats like the damn coward he is. “You perverted son of a mother-fucking bitch.”

  Someone grips my arm, urging me back, but I fling it off. Pausing over my cowering father, I funnel all my disgust, hate, and pain into my hard stare. My fingers tighten into fists at my side. Everything in me tells me to strike again, but I hold myself back knowing if he’s dead, then he can’t pay for his crimes.

  “I know about that fucking place, The Boardroom.” Somehow, his face pales even further, understanding dawning on the reasons for my actions. The bones of my fingers groan under my tight fists. “They were just girls.”

  Close by, someone sucks in a harsh breath, confirming what I had already known. Jessica had no idea the fuckery she was desperate to marry into. Hell, I’m already a part of this fucked-up family and I didn't know until yesterday.

  “Get out.” Tilting my head, I level an emotionless glare to where Mother now stands, champagne glass discarded on the side table. “You have no right—”

  “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Mother. I have every right. Not only do I have every right to stand here and beat the shit out of my own father for fucking underage girls, I have the damn proof.” The sheer disgust in my tone echoes off the floor-to-ceiling windows. I suck in deep breath after deep breath. “And you knew.” My voice cracks, giving away the pain I feel. “You knew the whole time what was going on, and you did nothing to stop it. Just kept fucking your own way through senator after senator, leaching off each person for more secrets and power.”

  My chest heaves as I turn back to my father where he sits against the wall, one hand cradling his swelling cheek while the other supports him from falling over.

  “It's the way this city works, son.” I blanch at his words, which he notices. Thinking he has some footing, thinking his excuse is valid, he straightens and stands, wobbling in place as he does. “You have no idea the deals that are made, the power and secrets that are exchanged there.”

  “I do not care. Those girls were held there, and you knew. You knew it was a hub for sex trafficking and did nothing except condone it by going back over and over and over again.”

  “I had to do it to stay at the top of this city. It was nothing, just sex. I didn’t know their age.”

  “It’s illegal and wrong,” I somehow grit out with my jaw clenched tight.

  “It's politics.”

  Another wave of disgust rushes through me. Blood pounds in my ears, distracting me to the point that I don't catch the door opening. I'm still transfixed by the perversion in his words when a cold hand rests on my shoulder. I go to shrug it off when it slides to my bare neck, sending a shiver down my spine. Immediately my swirling, out-of-control emotions settle. Confusion sets in briefly until Randi steps into my periphery.

  “You didn't think I'd let you face this alone, did you?” The softness in her tone is a complete contradiction to the vileness coating the room. She gives the back of my neck another squeeze before sliding her hand down my arm to take my own and interlace our fingers. Shifting her attention to my father, the warmth in her features drains away. “Now, Mr. Benson, I walked in on the tail end of this conversation, so why don't you catch me up to speed.”

  “No.”

  My muscles bunch, readying to launch another punch at his sneering face, when Randi tugs on my arm.

  “Okay, that's fine. I'll talk, then.” Two sets of stomping feet enter the room, signaling the agents from outside have decided I've had enough one-on-one family time. “You're under arrest for statutory rape, enabling in sex trafficking, and the bribing of federal employees.” A smidge of pride blooms in my chest at her calm tone, the firmness in her words. “I tried to have them tack on being a fucking lousy-ass father as well, but apparently CPS won't investigate since said child is nearly forty.” Her brows shoot up like a lightbulb goes off. “Wait, do you turn forty this year?” she asks me.

  “Can we talk about this later?”

  “Right, sorry.” Turning back to my father, she again settles that cold mask over her face. “As I was saying—”

  “Don't you say another word to him,” Mother screeches. The tips of her heels clip against the pale wood floors, her hate-filled eyes locked on Randi. Unfazed by the outburst, Randi turns to meet Mother, who looks ready to strangle the woman I love. With a growl, I tuck Randi behind me, putting my body between the two women. “What are you doing, Trey? What has she done? She's turned you against us.”

  “No.” The hand wrapped around Randi's thin waist tightens, reassuring me that she's secure at my back. “She showed me how screwed up this family really is. I've always known we were dysfunctional, but this….” I shake my head. I can't even look Mother in the eyes knowing what I do now about her too.

  “What he's referring to is we not only have proof of your perverted husband's kinks, but yours too.” A bit of the ire fades from Mother’s snarling face. “And I have to admit, I'm not straitlaced by any means, but you are one kinky lady.” She blanches at the laughter in Randi's tone. “You like toes where, exactly?”

  A panicked cry bursts from Mother’s lips as she lunges around me toward Randi. Releasing Randi, I wrap an arm around Mother’s waist, hauling her away before she can make contact. Still she swings, claws out, trying to scratch the humor from Randi’s face.

  “So here's what's going to happen.” Randi pauses and looks to me. “I kind of took over. Do you want to tell them?” Smirking, I shake my head. “Great, okay. So, Jessica.” She turns on her Uggs to face the nearly translucent Jessica. “There will be no wedding. The engagement is off.”

  “No shit.”

  A laugh bubbles from my chest.

  “Exactly. Now, after all this is through, you'll have your stuff removed from Trey's condo and release a statement stating you two have called off the engagement due to family differences. Soon, the arrest of Mr. Benson will be public. I suggest getting ahead of the media swarm and letting them know you had no idea what you were about to marry into.”

  “Done. And Randi?” Jessica's hand flutters to her neck, her fingers tugging on a thin gold chain. “She threatened me.”

  “You lying whore,” Mother yells, now lunging toward Jessica. I slam her back against me with a quiet grunt.

  “She said I needed to make sure he chose me and not you. That I needed to do whatever it took. Including making up that someone was harassing me.”

  “I knew it.” The validation does little for my disappointment in both women.

  “And if I didn’t, she’d ruin me and my family.”

  Randi sighs and relaxes her shoulders. “I figured something was up with the drastic change from the celebration party. Doesn't excuse your actions. You could've always come to me or told Trey what was really going on.” Jessica's sad gaze slides to her shoes. “But I'm assuming you were still hoping for him in the end, so you didn't.” Jessica's blonde hair swings with her nod. “I get it. He's pretty amazing, But that’s still not an excuse. You're free to go.”

  Not missing her chance, Jessica pretty much races from the room, tears flooding her eyes with a final glance back at me before she disappears through the door.

  “There's no way you have proof,” Dad say
s, inching toward Randi's back.

  “Ah, well, I do, and it's enough for these two gentlemen to arrest you on the charges I explained earlier.”

  “Nothing will stick,” he says proudly. “I know every judge in this city.”

  Randi just shrugs. “Well, that could be the case.” Turning, she faces my dad straight on. “But you see, someone is raiding The Boardroom right now.” At the horror in his face, Randi nods. “Yep. Think about all the physical evidence you've left behind, and then there will be the testimony of the girls. Plus, even if charges don't stick, we've at least helped those girls involved and ruined your family name. I highly doubt the snobs of this town will play nice with that kind of charge hanging over your head.”

  It happens too fast. I watch in shock as dad's face turns into a hate-filled sneer. The tight grip I have on Mother’s shoulders slackens as I attempt to maneuver around her, knowing exactly what's about to happen.

  Before I can take a step, which Mother blocks with a step of her own in the same direction, Dad's hands are reaching for Randi.

  Then it's over.

  Once again, Dad is laid out on the floor, groaning.

  I look between him and Randi, who's cradling her right hand in utter dismay.

  “You punched him.”

  A grimace marks her face. “Sorry, not sorry?”

  Shoving Mother behind me, I stride toward Randi and pull her into my arms. Not caring who sees, I seal my lips over hers and squeeze her tighter, molding her chest to my own.

  “I love you,” I whisper against her lips. “Thank you for being here.”

  “Always, Trouble. I'll always be here for you.”

  A loud interrupting cough snaps me out of our bubble. Heavy footsteps draw closer. Dad groans in pain as he's hauled to his feet. Hands on each arm, the agents haul him from the room.

  A wave of sadness and regret rushes through me as I watch them disappear around the corner.

  “You did the right thing,” Randi whispers. “I'm proud of you.”