Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set)

by Edwards, Scarlett

  “You thought wrong,” I declare.

  “Yeah. I can see that now.” Rich gives a cheeky grin. “Come on, then,” he beckons. “I want to show you something. Returning to this house after so many years away reminded me of something I forgot even exists.”

  Chapter Six

  Rich leads the way to the east wing of the house. We come to a room with a large oak desk in the center.

  Min hesitates before entering. “Dad’s office,” she says. “I’ve never been allowed in without him here.”

  “He had a reason for that,” Rich says, kneeling by the desk. He reaches underneath and presses something. I hear a beep come from the side of the room. I look over, and see the edge of a large painting suddenly swing away from the wall like a hinged door.

  Rich stands and walks to it. He pulls it open to reveal a secret stairwell leading down.

  “He showed this to me once when I was a boy,” Rich explains. “I’d forgotten all about it.” He helps Min over the threshold first, then extends a hand for me. “He said I would know when I’d need to look inside.”

  We take the circular stairs down one level. The stairway ends in a small, concave room that reminds me of a wine cellar. There’s nothing there except a hanging overhead light bulb.

  “A dead end?” I ask.

  Rich smiles. “Not quite.” He picks a brick on the wall, seemingly at random, and counts eleven to the left and three down. When he pushes his hand against that one, it depresses into the wall. Suddenly, the outline of another door becomes visible. It had blended in so well with the mortar that it was impossible to see before.

  “This house has more secrets than you know,” Rich tells us. He puts his shoulder against the newly-formed door and pushes. It takes some effort, but eventually the entrance grates inward, sending a cloud of dust in our faces.

  I sneeze as it settles. This door opens to a small, dark room—even smaller than the one we’re standing in. There’s a metal container inside, about the same size as a beer cooler. A PIN pad is visible on one side. Obviously, it’s a safe.

  Min’s eyes widen in excitement when she sees it. “Rich is that…? Oh my God!” she exclaims. “This is where he keeps his documents, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t know of any better place,” Rich says. “Close enough to be within reach, but hidden so that only those who know about it can find them.”

  “Do you know the combination?” I ask, my voice eager. Finally, I can feel the saga of uncertainty come to an end. This is why Tam and Victor were trying to get to Min: To use her as collateral to get her dad to reveal the location of this safe.

  “He made it impossible for me to forget,” Rich says. “It’s my birth year, punched in backwards.”

  He squats in front of the safe and inputs the code. A shrill beep sounds with every key press.

  I wait.

  Nothing happens.

  “Strange,” Rich mutters. He pulls on the handle. It doesn’t move. He tries entering the code again. Same result.

  “Bastard must have changed it after,” Rich curses. “Of course it wouldn’t be this easy!”

  For the next hour, we try every combination we can think of. We use Min’s birth year. Her birth year backwards. Their dad’s birth year. Their dad’s birth year backwards.

  Nothing works. Min and Rich try every other set of numbers that has ever meant anything to them, from credit card PINs to social security numbers. All give the same result.

  “Only one person knows how to get into this safe,” Rich says finally. “And he’s locked behind bars. Until we get that information out of him, none of us can sleep easy.” He heaves the brick blockade back in place and leads us up the stairs. When the painting is replaced, he turns to Min and me. “All right. We’ve got to get you girls out of here.”

  “Not without you,” I remind him.

  “I’ll check us into a hotel. From there, we can decide on the best approach to use with my father.” He gives a cheeky grin. “Together.”

  --

  Later that night, we’re all together in the sitting room of a posh hotel suite. It’s hard to imagine anyone finding us here, in a city of so many people.

  Still, Rich had us take precautions as we arrived. He made us walk into the hotel one at a time so as not to stand out. A group of three is much more visible than lone individuals.

  We made it inside without any trouble. But Rich is still nervous. I can tell. He won’t sit still for more than a minute. Even the slightest noise makes his head whip to the door.

  I wish I could say his concern doesn’t affect me. But that would be a lie. His anxiety is making me worried, which in turn probably fuels Min’s discomfort. It makes for a tense atmosphere.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Rich says, going over our plan for the umpteenth time, “you and I leave for the penitentiary. Min stays here. I’ll try to convince our father to give me the combination. Min, while you wait, you call every available hotel and check me in for that day. Use my real name, and give them my credit card. It’ll help throw off anyone looking for me.”

  Min grumbles in dissatisfaction. She wants to go with us to see her father. Rich said all of us arriving together would be too risky. Since I am not about to let him out of my sight, Min is the one who gets left behind.

  “I know you’re just giving me busywork,” she mutters, standing up. “But I’m not going to fight you now. Goodnight.”

  She goes into her room and closes the door. Rich exhales when she’s out of hearing.

  “If it weren’t for you being here,” he says, “she would have fought tooth and nail against staying. She can be damn stubborn at times.”

  “Just like somebody else I know,” I note, smirking.

  Rich gives a weak grin in return. He looks exhausted. “Right.”

  I come up to him and sit on his lap. His hands curl easily around my waist. I fuss with his hair a bit, straightening it as best I can. “You’re worried,” I observe.

  Rich takes a deep breath before answering. “Yes. I’m worried about you and Min. You should never have come. You would have been safer away.”

  “Safer doesn’t mean anything if you’re not there,” I tell him. “If you’re worried now, imagine how I felt when I found you gone.” I focus on his strands of hair, raking my fingers through them. “I didn’t know if I would ever see you again, Richard. Whenever I heard about people suffering heartbreak in their lives, before, I thought they should mourn for some time and then move on. I never understood the ones who claimed they couldn’t move on. After all, life continues. Right? You have to make the best of each situation and survive.”

  I let my hands fall, then turn my attention to the intricate tattoos on Rich’s forearms. “But, I knew, when you left, that I could never heal if I lost you.”

  Rich’s hands tighten around my waist. “Penny, you wouldn’t have lost me. I would have come back.”

  “You say that, Rich, as if it’s all up to you. What if something happened to you outside of your control?”

  He makes a visceral sound in his throat. “I wouldn’t have let it. I’d have known you were waiting.”

  “Damn men, and damn all their macho pride,” I mutter. That gets a small chuckle out of Rich. I smile, pleased that he remembers the comment from our night in the motel.

  His hands start moving up and down my back. I look into his eyes. “Are you going to be okay meeting your father?” I ask softly.

  For a flicker of a second, Rich’s hands stop moving. They start again when he speaks. “I have to be, don’t I?”

  I can tell the meeting is gnawing at him. He’s more nervous than logic alone would dictate. Then again, I know only a sliver about his relationship with his father.

  I catch his face between my hands. His stubble scratches against my palms. “I’m going to be there with you, Richard.”

  “I know.” He kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”

  “Whatever he says, whatever he does, we’ll face it together, all righ
t?” I hug him tightly. “You are not alone anymore.”

  He picks me up like it’s nothing and carries me to our room. I laugh. “You enjoy showing off, don’t you?”

  He drops me on the bed. “I can’t help it. You’re so small and fragile.” He kisses me as he hovers over me. “I want to take care of you.”

  “Hey.” I push him back by the shoulders. “I may be small, but I’m not fragile.” I nip at his ear to prove my point. “I can be quite feisty.”

  “I remember,” Rich smirks. He falls to his side beside me and stares deep into my eyes. “You’re also beautiful, Penny. So fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. Only mine. Never forget that.”

  My hear flutters at the intensity of his words. My stomach clenches at the same time. Even though I love him, I don’t know if I can trust him again. Not yet. Not after the way he left me.

  It’s something I need to work on. And I will.

  I look back into his magnificent silver-green irises. Is it fair for a man to look so beautiful? I brush my fingers over his forehead, down his jaw, tracing his masculine features. Rich closes his eyes and sighs, savoring my touch.

  I feel tired after the trip here. I can’t imagine how much worse Rich must feel. Unlike me, he’d barely gotten any sleep the night before he left. Besides that, he’s stressing out way more than I am about tomorrow. Obviously because it hits so much closer to home for him.

  “Roll over,” I suggest. “Let me give you a massage.”

  His eyes pop open. He looks surprised for a second, but pleased. He smiles, kisses my hand, and lies on his stomach.

  I stand up to turn off the lights and close the door. “Make yourself comfortable,” I say. I take off my socks and jeans. Rich tugs off his pants and shirt, then scoots under the blanket in only his boxers.

  I climb on top of him. His skin is hot against my thighs. I’ve never done this before, but I imagine most men would enjoy a sexy back rub.

  As my fingers knead into his hard muscles, I give a little sigh of pleasure. Rich feels so good to touch. But all his muscles are so tight. He definitely needs this.

  I work on his neck and shoulders, then slowly make my way down his spine. His breathing deepens and he sighs every few breaths. I can tell he’s enjoying this. I trace my fingers over his old scar, wishing I’d been there when he’d taken it.

  Rich’s muscles relax one by one. His breathing slows, then adopts a measured pattern. I lean forward to look at his face. His eyes are closed, his features calm.

  I smile. He’s fallen asleep.

  I snuggle up next to him beneath the covers. He puts an arm around me and pulls me close.

  “Goodnight, babe,” he whispers to me.

  “Goodnight,” I tell him back.

  Chapter Seven

  Rich and I rent a car the next morning to drive to the penitentiary. His father is in a minimum security prison in a neighboring county.

  Some of Rich’s nervousness about the meeting has returned this morning. It’s rubbing off on me. In my head, I have this image of his father as a big, cold man with a calculating intellect. Almost like a mix of Tam and Victor.

  But then I remember Rich is his son, and Min is his daughter. Maybe he won’t be so bad. After all, Rich and Min must have gotten some qualities from him, and they’re both great.

  After a long drive through flat, wooded land, I see the facility emerge in the distance. I put my hand on Rich’s knee to comfort him. I don’t think he notices.

  We pull up and park. Rich turns the engine off but keeps both hands on the wheel.

  “You don’t have to come in, you know,” he tells me. “You could wait here. A reunion like this might get a little uncomfortable for you.”

  I sniff and open the door. I will not abandon Rich to face his father alone. I start walking toward the building. One of us has to take the lead here.

  Rich catches up to me and takes my hand. “Okay,” he gives in. “We’ll do this together.”

  “As if you expected anything less,” I quip.

  We make our way inside and check in. The security guards do a full pat-down and have us place everything from our pockets into a clear plastic bag for pickup on the way out. We’re ushered to a waiting room.

  A clear sheet of Plexiglass splits the room in two. Desk stations link up on either side of the glass, connected by a telephone-speaker system.

  Rich and I wait. And wait. And wait. We’re the only two visitors here.

  Rich rubs his hands together. Then he sits. Then he stands. He taps one foot on the ground, then crosses his arms, then walks back and forth in front of me.

  I’m unaccustomed to seeing him like this. Even though he’s not always in control emotionally—far from it—I’ve come to rely on him as a pillar of confidence—no matter the situation. He fought Victor without once looking scared. He drove for hours while his leg bled without complaint. He led our escape from Amanda’s house and started a bar fight the same night without looking flustered.

  Now, it’s like all that confidence has drained out of him. He looks uncertain and worried. He looks… like a young boy about to face his disapproving father.

  “Hey.” I catch his hand as he walks by. “Rich, this isn’t like you. I’ve never seen you this nervous.”

  “I haven’t seen him in years, Penny,” he admits.

  “And you’ve grown over those years. The last time you saw your father, you were a boy. Now you’re a man, and from what I know, greater than he is in every way. Don’t forget that.”

  He grunts and spreads his hands. “It’s hard.”

  “Your father does not hold sway over your life any longer, Rich,” I remind him. Then I smile. “If anybody can make that claim, it’s me.”

  Rich looks startled for a moment. He blinks and shakes his head. “You’re right,” he says. “You’re absolutely right.” His voice regains its regular strength. “Dammit, Penny, why didn’t you say anything before?”

  “I’m here with you now,” I reassure him. “You’ve got nothing to fear.” I catch movement on the opposite side of the room as a door opens. I tilt my head in that direction. “Time for you to shine, baby.”

  Rich bends down and kisses me quickly. When he straightens, he looks like a man transformed. He stands taller. His shoulders are rolled back. His eyes have their shining intensity again.

  He turns around to face the man who has caused so much pain for him in his life. I stand up, and set eyes on Rich’s father for the first time.

  The gasp that escapes my lips is totally unbidden. The man—the man standing on the other side of the Plexiglass—looks almost exactly like the man standing next to me. Not like a father who resembles his son. Like a twin separated at birth.

  Rich and I walk toward a station. As we get closer, I pick out some of the differences. His father has more lines around his eyes, on his forehead. Otherwise, he looks identical. He has the same deep-red hair, the same olive eyes. He has Rich’s nose, his cheekbones, his jaw.

  I glance at Rich just to make sure he hasn’t been transported across the room without my knowledge. He’s still beside me, with his jaw set and his eyes hard.

  Rich’s father also has a closely-cropped goatee. That is the biggest difference I can find between the two men.

  Rich’s father picks up the telephone on the other side. His voice comes through a speaker on the station wall. “My God,” he says, “my son. Is that really you?” His voice is rougher than Rich’s. More abrupt.

  I like Rich’s so much more.

  Rich sits down. “Anthony,” he says.

  “Anthony?” Rich’s dad chuckles. “Since when am I ‘Anthony’ to you, son? What happened to ‘father’?”

  “Don’t mock me,” Rich growls. “You stopped being my father the day I left you and your stream of whores.”

  “Richard. That’s no way to talk in front of a lady,” he admonishes. His eyes meet mine. “Who is this beautiful young woman with you?”

  “Penny,” Rich answers
grudgingly. I rub his shoulders to calm him down.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Penny,” his father says. “Such a shame about the circumstances. You must excuse my son’s crude behavior. He clearly is unused to being in the company of a beautiful woman like yourself.”

  I blush wildly at the compliment. I don’t know why it affects me so much. But there’s something very uncanny about hearing those words from somebody who looks so much like Rich.

  “Stop it.” Rich slams his fist down. “She’s not going to fall for your cheap imitation of charm.”

  “Possessive, are we?” Rich’s father smiles. It’s a slimy smile. “You care for this young woman? Of course. Otherwise, why bring her to visit your father in jail? But what is the extent of your devotion, son? I do not see a ring on her finger.”

  “Enough!” Rich snaps. “None of that concerns you.”

  “If you truly love her,” Rich’s father continues, ignoring his son’s interjection and looking only at me, “then marry her. I made the mistake of waiting too long to pose the question to your mother. Because of that, I lost the only woman I ever loved.”

  “Don’t you dare,” Rich curses. “Don’t you dare claim you loved her. I know what you did to her. I know the truth, Anthony.”

  Rich’s father displays a large, easy smile. “Do you, now, son? And what has that truth gotten you? I have no reason to lie. You are a free man, while I seem to be a permanent guest in this fine institution.”

  “It’s no less than you deserve.”

  “Oh! Richard, you wound me.” I can hear the mocking undertone in his voice. “Do you really share no sympathies for your father? Penny knows. I can tell. She knows I do not belong here.”

  He looks at me, expecting a response. Even in the prison jumpsuit, he projects authority. He is a man used to getting what he wants.

  “No,” Rich says. “No, you do not belong here. You belong in a maximum security facility for murder.”

  Rich’s father tilts his head to the side. “Baseless accusations from my own son. That is all you offer after so many years? Why did you come, Richard? If it is to throw insults in my face, then you’ll find my patience wearing thin.”