Hard Love

by Meredith Wild

  I’d come unhinged only once. I’d flown to New York City on a red-eye from the West Coast, exhausted and ready to see her. What I found instead was her and Heath passed out in bed, semi-clothed. I didn’t bother to ask whether or not they’d fucked. Half a dozen other people I’d never met were in similar states of post-bender undress all over the condo. I’d sent Heath and his cohorts packing.

  When I came for her, seeing twelve shades of rage, she’d never flinched. Satisfaction simmered in her eyes, as if she’d orchestrated the whole damn thing to stir my jealousy and bring out a side of me that I’d always regret. Nothing about the punishment she took at the end of my belt had brought me solace, though. The way she always did, she’d begged for more when she’d already taken more than I could stomach. She wanted me to fuck her after, to take what was mine. But she wasn’t mine anymore. Something in me always knew that whatever I’d had with her had been tainted. And whatever she and I had was already fucked from the start.

  Regardless of whatever lies she’d have liked the people around us to believe, I never slept with her again. Doing so would have been dangerous. Emotionally and physically. Ultimately Sophia had never given me real control. Somewhere deep down I had known, even if the controlling bastard in me never wanted to admit it out loud.

  Maybe she did need me now, but I had let her into my head for the last time. I sure as hell wasn’t inviting her into any circle of my world that overlapped with Erica’s. It was over.

  Erica stirred, and I turned to take in her still-sleeping form. Sophia was in the past. So far in the past that one look at Erica rendered her almost invisible to me.

  Whatever had been empty became whole again at the mere sight of her. She was home. Together, we were complete.

  Determined to let her rest, I went downstairs to make her a small breakfast for when she woke. Her appetite had been off in the mornings, but having a little bit of food in her stomach seemed to ease the nausea that waned by later in the day. Thank God the morning sickness came in waves, because I wasn’t sure how I would keep my hands off her. Then again, this was only the beginning. I had no idea what to expect over the next eight months. I made a mental note to hit the bookstore this week and study up on everything I didn’t know, which I was guessing was a hell of a lot.

  A loud knock on the door broke the quiet of the morning. My parents had kept their promise of not dropping by unexpectedly, but I still expected my mom on the other side of the door when I opened it.

  Instead I came face to face with Agent Evans and Detective Carmody.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Carmody gave me a quick once-over. “Better go get dressed.”

  “Give me one good reason.”

  Evans’s jaw tightened. Carmody’s eyes gave him away, and somehow I could hear everything they weren’t saying clear as day.

  “Give me a minute,” I said.

  Without another word, I went upstairs. Erica was still asleep, and I wrestled with whether to wake her. No. She didn’t need to see this.

  I pulled on some clothes. As I was about to leave, she sat up.

  “Hey.” She had a sweet, tired look about her. Her hair was an adorable mess.

  “Hey, baby. Just stay here, okay? Evans is downstairs. I’m sure it’s nothing. Take your time getting dressed.”

  She frowned, all the sleepiness gone from her features.

  * * *

  ERICA

  Ignoring all of Blake’s requests, I wrapped myself in my robe and followed him downstairs in my bare feet. He muttered curses under his breath all the way down. At me or Evans, I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t think straight. The cobwebs hadn’t yet cleared, and now we had the police and the FBI at our door.

  Evans was in the foyer, Carmody a few feet away. Evans’s face twisted with a self-satisfied smile that sent my insides writhing. Something was wrong. I could feel it.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  Carmody pulled out a pair of handcuffs and took a tentative step toward Blake.

  “Blake Landon, you’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent.”

  Something in his posture almost seemed apologetic next to Evans, whose entire being reeked of hatred toward Blake.

  “No. You can’t do this.” The sound was broken as it left my trembling lips.

  “We can and we are. Here’s the warrant.” Evans shoved a folded piece of paper at me.

  I looked at it, unable to read any of the words. The paper shook in my hands. This wasn’t happening. This had to be a dream. Except I knew it wasn’t. They were arresting Blake before my eyes. My whole body hummed and heated with adrenaline. My palms prickled and the usual sickness I felt this early in the morning had multiplied. I held my stomach, trying to suppress the urge to retch.

  Carmody twisted Blake’s arms behind him and finished reading his Miranda rights. Blake winced when the cuffs clicked loudly, cinching his wrists.

  Tears burned and brimmed in my eyes, blurring my vision. “He didn’t do this.”

  “Tell it to the judge.” A grim smile curled Evans’s lips.

  I strode past him toward Blake. They couldn’t take him. Not today, not ever. Before I could reach them, Evans caught my arm and yanked me back.

  Fire ignited behind Blake’s eyes. “Do not touch her.”

  “Then tell her to calm down,” Evans shouted, more at me than to Blake.

  “Blake,” I sobbed, twisting helplessly away.

  Evans tightened his grip, tugging me back. I yelped, scratching at him with my nails to free myself.

  Blake’s voice bellowed, ricocheting through the room. “She’s pregnant, you bastard. Get your goddamn hands off her!”

  Carmody placed a firm hand on Blake’s chest, his eyes large and alert. Evans released his hold, narrowing his eyes as he gradually positioned himself between Blake and me.

  I was trembling from head to toe. From the adrenaline, from the sheer panic of watching the man I loved being taken away from me. Tears fell unbidden down my cheeks. “Blake… don’t leave me. Please, you can’t. Tell them the truth.”

  His lips parted, but no words came.

  “Let’s move.” Carmody pushed him toward the door.

  Jaw tight, eyes vacant, Blake followed without a word.

  The door closed and I dropped to my knees, no longer able to hold back the agonizing sob tearing from my chest.

  * * *

  BLAKE

  The vision of Erica, tears streaming down her face, was burned into my mind. She was all I could see. And over the slamming and voices and commotion, I could still hear her desperate cry after the door closed behind us. I pressed the heels of my palms against my eyes, unable to rid myself of the pain that lanced through me every time the scene played out in my mind. I took several deep breaths and reached for hope—hope that this nightmare would soon end and I could get back to my wife.

  I’d been booked and was waiting for Dean to show up after bailing me out. But the hours bled together with no word from him. Night fell and sleep never came. Not because of the sorry excuse for a bed I was lying on. Not because of the noise of the station and people being shuffled in and out of holding cells through the night. But because my brain was firing through every scenario and every possible solution.

  Anyone would have been on edge here, but I’d been here before, and with every second that ticked by, I remembered what that experience had been like. I’d been young and full of confused emotions—not the least of which was the fear that I was going to spend the rest of my adult life behind bars. They’d held me for days while I wrestled with that very plausible reality.

  Assuming they’d found enough evidence to charge me with rigging Daniel’s election, I’d be facing the same fears all over again.

  Exhausted but no less overwhelmed, I was moved to the courthouse for the bail hearing in the morning. They placed me in a small room where I waited for Dean. I tapped my fingers on the table rhythmically, waiting for him, waiting for answ
ers.

  He finally showed up in his suit, his typical put-together self. Not a slicked back hair was out of place, but the tension rolled off him in waves. Nothing about his body language was reassuring.

  “Thanks for coming out,” I muttered.

  His expression was tight. “I tried to arrange for bail yesterday. No dice.”

  “You want to explain to me why the fuck I’m here to begin with?”

  He sat down, unbuttoning his coat as he did. “Who’s Parker Benson?”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Parker Benson. The guy you did some research on the night before they confiscated everything in your office. Ring a bell?”

  “He’s dating my sister. I wanted to know who he was.”

  “Okay, well, some people might just use Google or pay for a legitimate background check. Apparently you accessed his bank records and hacked his university email account. None of that was legal.”

  I leaned in. “Are you fucking kidding me? That’s why I’m here?”

  “I told you they would look for anything, no matter how small or irrelevant to the matter at hand. And you said you were careful with these kinds of things.”

  “I was.” I replayed the late night in my mind, assured that I had been.

  “So how did they find out?”

  For the first time in a while I was speechless.

  “They must have tampered with my computer while I was gone, so they could trace my activity after I came back from the honeymoon. I had no idea they could be watching me at that point. Fucking hell.”

  “The good news is they still don’t have anything on the election. They’re holding you for this and hoping to get more. But this, technically, is enough to get you into some deep shit.”

  I sat back, sinking deeper into my denial. “It’s not enough.”

  “It would be nice if that were true, but I think we both know better. They aren’t going to make this neat and tidy for you.”

  A knock on the door signaled that we had to move on.

  Dean stood. “You’re up. Let’s get your bail set and get you out of here.”

  Twenty minutes later, we were facing the judge.

  “We are requesting bail,” Dean said.

  The prosecutor looked to be in her fifties. She was petite with short blond spiral curls framing her face. As soon as she opened her mouth, though, I knew she was here to nail me to the wall.

  “We’re asking that Mr. Landon’s bail be denied.”

  Dean shook his head, seeming perplexed. “This is a nonviolent crime, Your Honor.”

  The prosecutor continued. “This man is a walking weapon. All he needs is a computer to commit his next crime and compromise sensitive information.”

  “My client has a clean record,” Dean argued.

  “Not three months ago he was brought in on assault charges.”

  “Which were promptly dismissed.”

  “Not surprising for a man with his reach,” she countered.

  The judge peered at her above her glasses. “Are you questioning the integrity of the court, Counselor?”

  “Of course not. All I’m saying is that this man is under investigation for rigging a state-wide election. None of us can know what he’s capable of.”

  “The accusations made against him with regard to the election are as yet unfounded and have no bearing here,” Dean argued.

  “I disagree. Mr. Landon is a known hacker, and we are only beginning to uncover what could be a host of fraudulent activity. In one evening he was able to hack into the mainframes of a major banking institution and a state university. He has vast informational and financial resources. He is not a man to be underestimated.”

  “All of this is speculation,” Dean noted.

  “Considering the charges being brought against him today, anyone’s identity and personal information is at risk, including yours, Your Honor.”

  “Bail is denied.”

  “Your Honor—” Dean began.

  He was cut off by the short bang of the gavel. “This court is dismissed.”

  Dread swam in my veins, punctuated by a sob that I immediately recognized as my mother’s. I turned and she was several rows back. My father’s arm was around her shoulders, tucking her to him. Fiona was tearful, and I guessed she probably didn’t know the half of it. Fucking Parker.

  I wanted to blame him, but the truth was I only had myself to blame. Other than a few unanswered messages from what appeared to be one-night stands from many months prior, Parker had checked out fine. And here I was because I’d let my concerns get the best of me.

  The rest of my family looked like they were at my goddamn funeral. Then there was Erica. Stoic. Her jaw set firmly. Her eyes were tired and swollen. Under that strong facade I knew she was as devastated as I felt. The knot in my gut grew, bringing a kind of numb rage with it.

  Turning to Dean, I glared at the man who rarely flinched but had the decency now to look apprehensive.

  “Fix this.”

  “That’s what you pay me for.” He sounded confident, but his eyes told another story. They darted away from me, roaming over the bustling of the courtroom.

  My attention shifted back to Erica, who was moving out of the courtroom with the rest of my family. Her back was to me, and everything inside me wanted to go to her. I wanted to hold her through this storm, knowing we’d get through it together somehow. But we weren’t going to be together. We were going to be miles apart, spending every night wondering about the other.

  I swallowed hard and watched her walk away, feeling completely gutted.

  The bailiff approached, and I leveled a cold look at Dean.

  “Move accounts to Heath. Do whatever you need to do. I need to know Erica’s going to be taken care of if this goes sideways.”

  “Consider it done. I’m going to work on getting you out of this mess first though.”

  “I’ll be fine. She’s your priority.”

  “You’re the priority, Blake. If Erica can handle you, she’s strong enough to get through this. She’ll be all right.”

  The bailiff cinched the cuffs around my wrists. As the cold metal circled my skin, my heartbeat spiked and my body grew uncomfortably warm. I’d go willingly, but this was the third time in two days I had to wrap my head around the restraints, and I harnessed all my willpower not to fight against them.

  Something about this time felt final. Like the rapid clicks sliding into place was a sound I should get used to.

  Dean’s mouth kept moving, but the part of me that might have cared about what other assurances he could give was dying. Erica was a fighter. I wasn’t sure that I was anymore.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ERICA

  I stepped out of the flow of people and retrieved my phone from my purse. Blake’s family was huddled outside the courtroom, speaking with the lawyer. I would have been with them if I’d had any faith in the legal system to fix this injustice.

  With trembling hands, I pulled up Daniel’s number, dialed, and let it ring. His voicemail picked up. I ended the call and dialed again. When he didn’t pick up again I listened to his voicemail all the way through. Brief, cold. Like the man behind it.

  “Daniel, it’s me, Erica. I know you don’t want to talk to me.” I closed my eyes, fighting the turmoil that threatened to compound on the nearly excruciating pain I now felt. “But I really need to talk to you. It’s important. And if you don’t call me back, I’m just going to keep calling. If you know me—and despite everything, I think you know me pretty well now—you know that I don’t exactly give up easily. Thanks.”

  I hung up, and with one last glance toward Gove and the somber faces of our family, I turned to leave.

  The heavy wooden doors of the courthouse gave way with a push. Outside a handful of reporters rushed at me. Their questions came at me all at once. Their voices carried over one another. Daniel—Blake—the election—my involvement.

  “Do these new charges against your husband have anythin
g to do with the governor’s election?”

  “Do you have any comment on Fitzgerald being stripped of the win?”

  My already foggy brain couldn’t process what had just happened inside the courtroom, let alone formulate answers to fill their news reports. I tried to bypass them, and the only thing that broke through the mayhem was the sound of my name. Then I saw Marie maneuvering between two men. Her eyes were wide, expressing a mix of frustration and concern.

  She reached out to me. “Come with me.”

  I caught her hand, and we walked quickly toward her car. The reporters finally gave up after we got several paces away. I sat in the passenger seat of her sedan, closing out the cold and noise with the door behind me.

  One look at my mother’s best friend and my tears began to fall. She reached across the front seat to hug me tightly. I buried my face in her coat and squeezed her thin frame, trying to keep myself from falling apart completely.

  “I saw the news this morning and I came as soon as I could.”

  I sniffled and sat back. “Thank you.”

  “I knew things weren’t looking good for Daniel. The man would sell his soul for a win, but I had no idea Blake could be involved.”

  I wiped my eyes. “He wasn’t. He didn’t have anything to do with the election. He’s the only suspect they’re looking at though, so they’re making his life hell and holding him for this charge.”

  Anger flooded my veins. I hated the woman who’d stood between Blake and getting bail. For all her determination, she had no idea how much pain she was inflicting by keeping us apart. I balled my fists, trying to hold on to the anger, if only to ease the devastating pain that lingered just beyond.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  I shook my head and stared down at my lap. “It’s all been too much. It’s too much for anyone to fix.”

  Alli had been at the house most of the night, trying to comfort me into a place that more closely resembled emotionally stable. The last thing I wanted to do was start spreading the news when I was still short on answers.