Lies: Web of Sin book #2

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Lies: Web of Sin book #2 Page 23

by Aleatha Romig


  “I was older and stronger than the boy he’d bullied all of my life. I saw things in the war that would either break me or make me stronger. I did things. Patrick, Reid, Mason, and I. We were unstoppable. We planned. Mason was from Chicago. He knew my family, my name.”

  I shook my head at the memories. “He hated me. I didn’t know why. It wasn’t like we grew up around one another. I figured he was jealous, but why? I came from money, but I was in the same shithole as him. At first, we butted heads about everything. If I said it was blue, he said it was black.”

  “It sounds like not everyone says ‘Yes, Mr. Sparrow,’” Araneae said with a grin.

  My cheeks rose as I scoffed. “I stand corrected.” I could have told her that he was no longer alive, but it wasn’t because of that. I could even say it wasn’t my fault, but that would be a lie. It was better to move on.

  “He and I came to blows more times than I remember. After we’d have it out, it wouldn’t rid us of one another. We’d end up together on some shit punishment. Finally, one day while we were digging a hole that didn’t need to be dug, covered in sweat and filth, he told me why he hated me.”

  Araneae’s eyes began to glisten with unshed tears.

  I brushed her cheek. “I’m here.”

  She nodded. “Go on.”

  “Mason’s sister could have been one of those girls on my dad’s computer. One day between school and home when she was nine years old, she disappeared. That would have made me about eleven. Just two years before I saw those pictures. Mason’s family lived in South Chicago. It wasn’t and isn’t uncommon for kids to disappear. The difference was that when they went missing from certain neighborhoods no one noticed, at least no one who could help, especially if those kids weren’t blonde haired and blue eyed.

  “Mason was two years older than his sister. He did what he could. He searched and searched. As he got a little older, he heard rumors about different rings right here in Chicago: rich men with sick fantasies who will pay a fuck-ton of money to play them out.”

  “Why did he hate your name?”

  I looked down at her. “Because Sparrow—my father and his men—did both. They made a fortune by supplying the means and opportunities for those sick fuckers’ thrills, and when they wanted, they took their turns without giving it a second thought.”

  I heard one of my father’s capos in my head. He was laughing and talking to my father in the dark of that office. “...she’s going to make us a fortune, that new little blonde one.”

  “Did you try her out?”

  Laughing.

  “Hell yes. So fucking tight it made my dick hurt. Need to stretch her out and stop the bitch from bawling the whole time. It won’t take long. My men will get her ready.”

  “We need some good pictures before she gets too used up. Once we get it online, her schedule will be too full for her to have time to cry. Work on her swallowing, too. Had a customer want a refund because one of them couldn’t take him down his throat.” More laughter. “And my guess is that his dick wasn’t that impressive.”

  My stomach reeled at the memory.

  Araneae’s head was shaking as tears spilled over her lids. “Oh no. Sterling, tell me you don’t—”

  “No,” I interrupted, wiping her cheek with my thumb. “I don’t. When I was younger, there was nothing I could do about it. When I was older, I vowed I would. When I came back after the war and after Michigan, I took over Sparrow for the sole purpose of stopping it.”

  “So it’s over? There aren’t children—”

  “Sparrow is no longer involved. While over in the desert, the four of us vowed to do what we could for Mason’s sister, for all of them. It took time to work out the details.”

  Araneae sighed as she turned away, her cheek against my chest.

  “As I was saying, Rubio McFadden wasn’t in my father’s office because the McFadden name was also well known. It still is. He’s done his best to distance himself from those rumors now that his political aspirations have grown. Back then, when I was young, he was only a state senator, not a US senator. He worked the state laws to help him and his friends get richer and richer while working the local politicians and lawmakers to keep their horrors buried. Of course, there is also a legitimate front to McFadden—construction. There’s a lot of money in construction. Back then, it was one of the best ways to cook the books.” I shrugged. “Real estate wasn’t bad either. It’s harder now.”

  She turned her face back toward mine and sat up a little. “Wait, are you saying that this man who wants to run for the highest office in America was involved in child trafficking and exploitation?”

  “That’s part of what I’m saying. I’m no saint, and don’t ever think I am,” I said. “I run a legit company, one worth billions. I also do bad things. It’s part of how I stay in power and that other life also pays well. I won’t give it up or stop doing what I do. I stay in power because of Missy, Mason’s sister, to exert my power to stop what happened to her.”

  “Is she okay now?”

  I shook my head. “From my experience observing, the victims are never okay. They learn to survive, and if I can help that in any way, I do.”

  Araneae gasped as she sat all the way up. Her eyes opened wide as both of her hands covered her mouth.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  Sterling

  “Jana...?” Araneae asked, more terror in her brown suede eyes than I wanted to see.

  I was sure she was imagining horrible things—and more than likely they didn’t even come close to the horror of the reality. I inhaled. “Not my story to tell.”

  “Oh my God, Sterling, that makes sense. She was so young when you employed her...Oh my.”

  I reached for Araneae’s hand and pulled it to my lips, kissing the tip of her Band-Aid. “Sunshine, she doesn’t like to talk about it...”

  Her head was shaking. “No, I wouldn’t. I never would. It’s that the clues were all there and yet I never imagined.”

  I tilted my head. “Do you know why you never imagined, why the thought never occurred to you?”

  More tears came to her eyes. “Because...how could I?”

  My finger went to her cheek as I shook my head. “Because you are sunshine and light. What I’m discussing is hell and darkness. I wish you never had to know, never had to even imagine that this existed. I hate telling you about it.”

  “I just...I just feel so...”

  “Does it change the way you feel about Jana?” I asked. “You told me you liked her.”

  Araneae swallowed as she collected her thoughts. “I mean, no, it doesn’t change...Well, yes, I guess it does. If anything, I respect her even more. She’s been through hell and now she’s out. She’s a great employee, a fast learner, and...” Her smile grew despite the tears. “...she loves Bailey and her husband Marcus. She brought some pictures into the office and asked if she could have them at her desk.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “She’s a survivor. That’s fucking amazing.”

  I nodded. “It is. Not all the stories have happy endings and many ended way too soon like Missy.” And Mason. I couldn’t say that. I still had trouble facing it.

  Araneae’s head shook “McFadden can’t be president. Fuck, Sterling, he shouldn’t even be where he is. Oh! Does his wife know?”

  “The particulars, I doubt it. My mother chose to turn a blind eye as long as her social status wasn’t affected; I’d assume Pauline has done the same. The Sparrows and the McFaddens have never—in my lifetime—seen eye to eye.”

  “Expose him. You have power, you can do that.”

  “It’s different today. Reid’s good, but most of this shit is encrypted on the dark web and McFadden’s stepped away from any direct connection. It’s not like it was twenty-six years ago.”

  “Twenty-six years ago...” she said. “This is the information that my father knew.”

  “You’re not asking.”

  Araneae shrugged. “Am I right?”

  “R
emember I said he—Daniel McCrie—was a fixer. I was too young to understand, but from overhearing things and research, we’ve put together that your father stumbled upon the trafficking rings. There was even a raid of his office by the FBI not long before you were born. He never was forced to testify, so he didn’t have any evidence hidden there or at his home.”

  “We’ve been able to confirm some of this, like the raid, by scouring old records, newspapers, and public documents. Those sources don’t tell the whole story. Other parts have been pieced together. Your father figured if he didn’t tell the FBI, he would be able to leverage his knowledge as power over his biggest client, McFadden.

  “The proof of involvement in the rings was believed to have been what he knew. He’s gone now and the rumors were that somehow he left the evidence with you.”

  “Was his evidence against the McFaddens or the Sparrows?”

  “No one knows for certain,” I replied. “The way the story played out, I’d say for sure the McFaddens.”

  “Why would he go to them and tell them he had evidence that could hurt them?”

  It was my turn to shrug. “Why do people do what they do? It’s usually for money, power, or pussy,” I answered honestly. “I would suspect McCrie’s plan was to offer the evidence to Rubio in exchange for one or more of the above.”

  “And McFadden didn’t take it?” she asked.

  “Araneae, there’s a lot we don’t know. Things discussed in dark rooms are rarely recorded. All we can do is hypothesize and then meld that with the facts we’ve been able to unearth.

  “I remember hearing my father say that McCrie owed him,” I said. “My father and those men in that office knew that you were alive—they were confident. That was when you were with the Marshes. He had your picture—not just that one. He’d get them periodically. That first picture that I saw of you was why you were given to me—why you’re here now. It would fit that somehow my father helped hide you and because of that debt, your father owed him.”

  Araneae shook her head. “My mom, I mean Josey Marsh, said that she was old friends with my birth mother—Annabelle. It’s still strange to have a name. Josey told me to never come back to Chicago because of your father and you, not because of anyone named McFadden. And besides, you said my father worked for McFadden. Why would he go to a Sparrow for help?”

  I wasn’t ready to take the Marshes road with her yet, to tell her they only existed when she was with them, and now they’re gone.

  “Like I said,” I went on, steering the conversation, “we don’t know for sure. We’ve made some giant leaps in our theories. Sometimes they can be proven, other times they’re left with nothing more than speculation. The intricacies of what my father knew died with him over six years ago. Most of the players from that time, those in the Sparrow outfit, are dead or reassigned. Some secrets stay hidden for a reason. If the information your father had included implications against the Sparrow outfit, it could affect Sparrow Enterprises. Nevertheless, time has passed. My father is gone. We would weather the storm better than McFadden. He was a key player. His political career would go up in smoke.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is that why you found me and brought me here? Not for me but for evidence? If I had it and you found it, you’d be in complete control of what was disseminated. You could release the shit on him, but not on your father.”

  I exhaled. “That possibility was why I never gave up on the idea that you were mine. Those times when your fucking eyes looked so damn innocent, when my world was covered in crimson and I hated everyone, when I knew I didn’t deserve to have sunshine in my life, I didn’t stop watching and waiting for you, and yes, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t also because you were a possible means to bringing down McFadden.”

  Araneae’s neck straightened. “I don’t have it. I don’t—and didn’t—know anything. So let me go, forget about me. I’m not what you wanted.”

  I reached out, gently seizing both of her hands and pulling her closer. The scent of vanilla and gardenias surrounded us. “I couldn’t let you go if I wanted to, and fuck, Araneae, I don’t want to. I still don’t deserve you—I never will. Stories like this are darkening your light, but I meant it when I said you’re mine. I’m never letting you go.”

  “Even though I’m useless? I don’t have what you need.”

  I ran my finger over her cheek, over her jaw, down her slender neck, and stopping at her collarbone. “You are exactly what I have wanted since I was thirteen years old. And from the moment I had you in my grasp, in that office in the fucking distribution center, I knew without a doubt that you, Araneae McCrie, were the only person on this earth who I needed.”

  She sighed and lay back down, again resting her cheek against my chest. “This is so much.”

  “Over the years McFadden heard the same rumors about your existence. However, like everyone else, he’d been told you died after birth. My father and his trusted crew were the only ones who knew you were alive. McFadden only heard talk. We believe something happened on your father’s end when you were sixteen, something that precipitated your hasty departure from Chicago.”

  “Why would they hide me here? That doesn’t make sense.”

  “My guess was to make it easier for my father to keep an eye on you, assure that his hold over you remained solid.”

  Araneae shook her head.

  I went on, “Now that you’re confirmed alive and real, Reid, Patrick, and I believe that McFadden may think that you have the information. He no doubt believes what you just said, that I found you, raised you from the dead to bring him down. If that’s the case, you’re a threat to his future. Only someone with his power and money could crash-land a 737 full of passengers.”

  “But,” she began, “I sat with him and his wife at that dinner?”

  “That was a week before. At that point, he hadn’t put it together that Kennedy Hawkins was also Araneae McCrie. He sure as hell didn’t expect to meet you at an event for a fashion retailer. Later, with the plane crash and fire at your apartment, he’d learned in concept. Your name was being whispered. He was hedging his bet to stop you from coming forward. Then his suspicions became reality when you and I walked into the club and he saw you.”

  “Why was my mother with him instead of his wife?”

  “The easy answer is that she’s his sister-in-law.”

  Araneae sat back up. Damn, she was like a bobber tossed in the waves of Lake Michigan.

  Her eyes stared my way as her complexion paled to a ghostly hue. “He’s my...uncle?”

  “Pauline McFadden’s maiden name was McCrie.”

  “The woman who wants to meet with me tomorrow is my aunt, my father’s sister?” When I didn’t respond, she went on, “And my uncle wants me dead?”

  “He wants you silenced. I’ll never let him get close to you.”

  Araneae laid her head back down and pulled my arm over her like a shield. That was what I wanted to be, a shield to keep this world away from her.

  “What’s the hard answer?” she asked, looking up.

  “What hard answer?”

  “You said that my mother being his sister-in-law was the easy answer. What is the hard one?”

  I stroked her yellow hair, moving silky strands away from her face. “Since your father has been...gone, Rubio and Judge Landers have spent more time together. A federal judge is appointed; the nomination usually comes from a government official. McFadden nominated your mother.”

  She nodded.

  My chest expanded and contracted. “There’s more.” Her eyes opened wider. “They’ve spent more time together socially and privately.”

  “How privately?”

  I shrugged.

  “But that’s his...he’s her...that’s...eww. It’s disgusting.”

  I turned to the clock. “Sunshine, we have five hours until our getaway.”

  “Sterling, postpone it one day.”

  “You can’t meet—”

  Araneae scooted to her pillo
w and turned my way, reaching up and touching my lips with the tips of her fingers. “You can be at my office if you want. Patrick will be there. I don’t care if you want the entire Chicago Police Department surrounding the building, but I’m meeting with Pauline McFadden. I want to know if this is really about Sinful Threads or if it’s about a family reunion.”

  Damn, couldn’t she for once say “Yes, Mr. Sparrow?”

  One fucking time?

  I slid down under the blankets until our faces were even. As much as she infuriated me with her stubbornness, as I looked at her angelic face, her golden halo of hair on her pillow, I was in awe of her strength. “You don’t need to do that. You don’t owe her a damn thing.”

  “You’re right.” Her hand cupped my cheek. “Sterling, I want to. When it comes to this getaway, I’m saying not yet. You promised that you’d listen to me. Give me one day.”

  Fuck promises.

  “One day,” I said, hating myself for agreeing to her demands while at the same time knowing that doing so was the best for us...yet also afraid it would be the worst for Araneae. “We’re leaving Wednesday morning. No other delays.”

  Araneae leaned in and kissed my cheek. “One more thing.”

  My lips came together in a straight line. So help me, if she mentions the damn sensor...

  “I need to tell Winnie and Louisa about you—something.”

  “We decided that keeping Sinful Threads—”

  Her finger again came to my lips. “No, Sterling. You decided, or you and Patrick and Reid. My point is that I didn’t decide.” Before I could respond, she went on. “I agree that I can’t do business as Araneae McCrie. In the eyes of the law, I don’t exist. My birth certificate, according to what you’ve told me, says I’m deceased. Kennedy Hawkins will remain the cofounder of Sinful Threads. However, today, Winnie insinuated—and I understand why—that I was acting out of character and perhaps I was skimming—”

 

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