by Cecy Robson
He frowns when he sees me, causing the woman with chocolate brown hair sitting in front of him to turn. She’s curvy, very curvy, and despite her chic and conservative dress, she resembles more of fifties pinup model than the Barbie dolls I’m used to seeing at Declan’s side.
“What are you doing here?” he asks me.
I press my lips tight, trying to think of something to say without giving too much away. Tess beats me to the punch. “I apologize for interrupting, Declan. Your secretary informed me your meeting had finished.”
“With opposing counsel, not with Melissa,” he says, rising and walking around the desk. “Mel, this is my sister, Wren. Wren, this is Melissa, head of Victim Services for the state.”
“Hello,” she says. She stands and offers me her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
I shake it, noting her speech is slightly altered. “Hi,” I say, my lack of conversation giving Declan more signals that this isn’t a friendly visit.
He looks at Tess. “Curran is on his way,” she says as a way of an explanation.
I don’t see the hearing aids Melissa is wearing, but based on the way she speaks, and how she focuses on the way Tess’s lips move, I realize she’s hearing impaired.
The door flies open and Curran steps through in full uniform, not bothering to knock. His face gives nothing away, but his presence does. Melissa frowns slightly and edges around me. “I’ll leave you alone to talk,” she says. “It was nice to meet you, Wren.”
I smile politely as Curran positions himself between me and Tess.
“Mel, wait,” Declan says.
Melissa doesn’t seem to like the “Mel” reference. In fact, Melissa doesn’t seem to like Declan at all which is odd. Declan’s looks and suave political persona have always made him popular, but it’s his keen intelligence and killer rep in court that launched him into celebrity status at a young age.
Apparently, it takes a lot more to charm Melissa. Her posture is straight and guarded, unlike most women who fall all over Declan. She’s wary of him, but I’m not sure why.
“You’ve worked hard on this case,” Declan tells her.
She watches him carefully. “I don’t mind. I’m happy to help.”
Declan smiles, and it’s real, genuine, and warm, unlike the smile he usually flashes; the one that schmoozes and guarantees he’ll get laid. “I know, but tonight, maybe you should go home and . . .” He takes a breath and motions with his hands, slapping his palms together and then pointing to her.
I have no idea what he said.
But Curran does.
And so does Melissa.
Her eyes fly open, scanning each of us as her fair skin burns bright pink. “You asshole,” she tells Declan. She whips around, her steps quick and forceful, sending her hair sailing behind her as she storms away.
Curran rounds on Declan when the door slams shut, his expression split between stunned stupid and ripping him a new one. “What the hell, Deck?”
Declan’s face flushes a furious red. “I told her, ‘to go to bed.’” He repeats the motions. “Doesn’t this mean go to bed?”
“No, dumbass,” Curran fires back. “This means go to bed.” He does something similar with his palms, but instead of smacking them together like Declan did he slides and joins them. “You told her to go fuck herself.”
“Jesus Christ,” he says. “How many fucking times can I screw up with her?”
Curran shakes his head. “I don’t know. But I’m starting to keep score. Just so you know, it’s the fourth quarter with ten seconds left in the game and the cheerleaders are lining up to punch you in the nuts.”
It’s just like Curran to bust some serious balls, and normally I’d slap Declan upside the head for being such a dumbass. But all I can do is gape. Holy shit. Declan likes Melissa—a real woman with real tits for once in his life. “Damn,” I say.
He pauses, looking at me when he catches something in my expression. “What’s going on?” His focus darts to Curran briefly before resting on me. “Wren, what happened?”
I came here to spill my guts except it takes me way too long to speak. “I have to talk to you about Bryant.”
“What about him?” Declan asks, his tone growing severe. “Did he approach you again since yesterday?”
“No.”
Everyone falls perfectly still. Declan scowls, pointing at me when his office phone rings. “Hold that thought,” he tells me. “O’Brien,” he says, answering. His frown deepens, his face lifting to meet mine. “Evan’s here.”
“Evan is here?” I repeat, barely believing it.
He nods slowly. “He says it’s urgent and he needs to see me.”
Curran steps forward. “I thought you said he didn’t come home last night,” he reminds me.
If Declan wasn’t already mad, he’d be furious now. “Am I showing him in, or tossing him out?” he asks.
“In,” I say, swallowing back the shock mixed with relief I feel.
“I’ll go get him,” Curran says, moving fast.
The carpet in Declan’s office is that industrial gray. The kind that will take a beating for years to come and still say business. It’s all I see, as I ignore the way Declan and Tess are staring at me. I don’t know what they’re going to think or say. But I know I can no longer stay silent.
My head swivels in the direction of the door when it opens. Curran walks in tailed closely by Evan.
Evan’s stare immediately locks onto mine. I’m barely keeping it together, and while his presence gives me the comfort I lack, the reminder of everything he saw has me curling inward. Maybe he knows it. From one breath to the next, I’m in his arms.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it home,” he whispers. This is coming from him, not anything Curran said. I know it by the way he holds me.
I nod, melting into him, the steady beat of his heart pounding against my ear. His warmth and presence, God help me, it’s what I’ve both dreaded and needed. And now that he’s here, it’s like I can’t breathe without him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Curran say, his voice mirroring the building anger in his features.
“Are you ready?” Evan asks me gently.
I ease away and look up at him. Thick stubble peppers his jaw and he’s wearing the same suit he wore yesterday. My guess is that he barely slept, if he slept at all.
He leads me to the small leather couch while Curran gathers two chairs for him and Tess and places them in front of us. Declan leans against the edge of his desk, watching with, what to most, might appear as interest. I know better. Charismatic, future politician aside, my brother is a street kid at heart and he’s ready to come out swinging. “I’m waiting,” he says.
“Bryant sent Evan a message yesterday through Evan’s former secretary,” I begin.
“What kind of message?” Declan asks when I suddenly stop speaking.
“A link to a website,” Evan answers for me, his tone more terse than Declan’s.
He doesn’t say anything more, leaving the rest up to me. As hard as it is, I tell them everything that’s on the site, and everything that happened the night I met up with him.
I don’t look up until I’m done. Tess has her hand clasped over her mouth, horrified on my behalf. Like Evan, my brothers are raging.
“I’ll fucking kill him,” Curran says.
“Curran,” Tess warns, her voice soft, but heavy with worry.
He rises. “It’s not a threat. I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Declan doesn’t say anything, but in a way that’s worse.
Tess reaches out and clasps Curran’s hand, trying to soothe him and maybe herself.
“You should have told us,” Declan says, the anger he’s feeling gathering close to the surface.
“I didn’t want anyone to know,” I bite out. “I still don’t. But I don’t want him to get away with this either.”
Curran leaves Tess cautiously. “If there’s video, we have enough for a warrant to search his place. Ma
ybe we’ll find something there to peg him for some of the mob shit he’s into.” His stare glides my way. “In addition to anything else he has on you.”
“You won’t find anything on Wren,” Evan says, his stone-cold demeanor snagging our attention.
“Why wouldn’t we?” Declan challenges.
Evan’s gaze remains steady, as does his voice. “I told Wren I’d take care of things, and I have. But what I did may or may not fall within the confines of the law, regardless of what my legal counsel advised.”
My chest constricts as panic sets in. “Evan, what did you do?”
He doesn’t respond, meeting Declan square in the face, an unspoken request falling between them.
There’s a reason Declan sailed through law school and graduated at the top of his class. He’s smarter than hell and just as slick. “Tess, will you excuse us,” he says.
Her attention shoots my way. “No.”
“I’m not asking,” he says, his tone respectful yet absolute.
“No,” she fires back.
Curran doesn’t miss a beat, siding with Declan to protect his wife. “You can’t get into trouble if you don’t what’s happening,” he tells her. “Wait for me in your office. I’ll stop in when I’m done.”
Tess seems torn, tossing me a glance. She’s scared. Not just for me, but for everyone. “I’ll be okay,” I assure her, even though I sure as shit don’t look the part.
Curran kisses her forehead when she stands, the tenderness behind the show of affection making her appear close to tears. “Don’t do anything stupid, cop,” she tells him.
“I’ll see you soon,” is his only response.
The moment the door shuts, Declan speaks. “Tell us,” he says. When Evan pauses, Declan’s attention darts briefly my way. “You protected my sister. You have my word I’ll protect you if I can.”
“If?” I ask. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“We’re still sworn to uphold the law,” he reminds me.
Curran shrugs. “Doesn’t mean we can’t bend it a little.”
Evan shifts his weight and pulls out a jump drive wrapped in a plastic bag from his suit pocket. “This is the drive Ashleigh, my former administrative assistant, brought me.”
Declan lifts it out of his hand. “The one with the link to those images of Wren?”
He looks about as sick as I feel until Evan says what he does. “No. Links to every account Bryant is connected to, including those with the aliases he’s used, as well as full access to his personal information and passwords.”
“The fuck?” Curran says, stepping closer.
Evan barely blinks. “Years ago, I developed a program called Hound to track illegal downloads of digital books and music. I never released it to the public because there are imperfections in Hound that I haven’t had the opportunity to fix. Imperfections that early this morning worked in my favor.”
“Like what?” Declan asks, his expression darkening when Evan pauses. “What does Hound do once he finds the download?”
“He destroys it,” Evan responds. “The moment I specify what I want him to hunt, he goes after it. Last night, I set the program to target not only the link to the website, but all the images and graphics contained within.”
“You’re serious,” Declan says.
“I am,” Evan replies. “But there’s more. Once Hound latches onto the scent, he doesn’t stop. He tracks it back to the original source.” He looks at me. “In this case, it was Bryant’s computer and his electronic devices.”
I don’t move and can barely breathe. “What are you saying?”
“That every image Bryant had of you, including video is destroyed. Hound broke apart the algorithms, downloads, and screenshots on every device connected to, or even remotely associated with the link and graphics. If there’s so much of a trace, Hound sinks his fangs into it and it’s gone.”
“What about everyone else?” Curran asks, shifting his weight forward. “Visitors to the site? Hell, what about another site this asshole could have dumped these pictures on?”
“Any website containing the material and anyone who downloaded any part of the file, Hound found it and devoured it—”
I slap my hands over my face and curl forward, fighting tooth and nail to keep my composure. Evan’s arms wrap around my shoulders as he kisses my temple. “It’s okay,” he whispers.
It’s what he says, but I need to be sure. “So no one . . .”
I don’t finish my question. Evan already knows what I’m asking. “Unless they recorded the image on a separate device by placing a camera in front of the monitor, which is unlikely, it’s gone. Nothing of you remains.”
My breathing is harsh, all the emotions I buried deep are surging forward all at once.
“Why haven’t you released it?” Declan presses, trying to give me a moment to calm. “Publishing companies and recording studios will pay tens of millions for tech this good.”
Evan’s weight lifts off me slightly all the while keeping me cradled against him. “Because in addition to destroying the file, Hound attacks and corrupts the offenders’ entire network, crashing their computers and infecting their databases.”
“So anyone who did download images of Wren,” Curran begins.
“Lost everything on their computer or device when it crashed,” Evan responds without remorse.
I force myself to look up in time to see Curran’s attention shoot toward Declan’s. “He didn’t break the law,” he tells Declan. “Not technically. I mean, it’s malware, yeah, but he didn’t release it with intent to harm, only to protect.” He motions my way. “Those who had their shit destroyed are the same assholes who illegally downloaded the file or stole the images, seeing how Wren didn’t provide consent.”
Declan sits in Tess’s abandoned chair, rubbing his jaw as he thinks things through. “No, at best he’s walking a fine line. The tech he created is too advanced for the current laws surrounding cybercrimes.”
“My legal team concurred as much,” Evan responds.
I almost expect him to smile. Except while this is the best news I could have learned, the revulsion and shock surrounding the incident remains.
“And this?” Declan asks, shaking the baggie in his hand. “How are Bryant’s files and links in here if his devices crashed?”
“In addition to hunting, Hound also retrieves. He brought back all of Bryant’s information prior to dismantling his devices.”
“Why only Bryant’s, because he was the source?” Curran asks.
Evan nods. “Exactly,” he says. “It’s another reason I haven’t marketed Hound. In addition to crashing devices, anyone who used him would have access to countless amounts of private information.”
The room falls quiet. “Did you touch the jump drive?” Declan asks Evan, as if it’s the most important question left.
“No.”
Declan turns to Curran. “If what’s in here, is what I think is in here, we have him—his distributors, his contacts, everything.” He looks at Evan. “Am I right?”
“Yes,” Evan answers.
“Holy shit,” Curran says.
“I don’t want this going back to Evan,” I say, cutting Curran off.
“Why would it?” Declan asks casually. “Ashleigh gave him access to a potentially dangerous link with a file created by a person of interest we’ve been watching closely. His tech searched for malware on the device and this is what he found.” He smirks. “As an outstanding member of the community and law-abiding citizen, he brought it directly to me the D.A., and to Curran, a police officer. As far as I’m concerned, he’s a witness and under our protection.”
“You won’t let anything happen to him?” I ask, my voice quaking over what legal ramifications Evan could face.
“No, and neither will my legal team,” Evan answers for him. “Just as I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
CHAPTER 25
Evan
I rub my face, trying to relieve my
exhaustion. Declan used the information Hound gathered to secure search warrants for Bryant’s premises. There were several served in the area and in the surrounding counties, all of which he shouldn’t possess the resources to afford. Evidence found within the fraudulent accounts connected him directly to crime lords in South Jersey as well as New York and Boston. Currently, he’s at large, and if he’s smart, he’s far away from the city and me. As much as I’m relieved for Wren, I’m not any less furious.
The gentle knock at the door has me lowering my hands. “Come in.”
Wren steps in, pausing briefly before walking toward me. She’s not in one of her stylish suits or a skirt and blouse that embrace both business and sensuality. She’s in a simple dark pink dress and sandals.
The color is my favorite she wears. When I told her, she began adding more pieces to her wardrobe containing that shade. I think she intentionally wore it.
That doesn’t make her any less beautiful.
She doesn’t take a seat, choosing instead to stand in front of my desk. “Hi,” she says.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She drops her gaze briefly. “You don’t want me here?”
“That’s not what I mean,” I say, realizing how I must have sounded. “It’s late. You should be home.”
Our encounter with Declan the other day was a solid step toward alleviating the damage Bryant caused. At least it should have been. While I erased all evidence of Wren at her most vulnerable, I couldn’t erase her memories, let alone mine.
Instead of returning to the office, Wren followed me home. We didn’t talk through our feelings nor did we make love. We simply surrendered to our fatigue, and she slept wrapped in my arms.
I left her sleeping and returned to work early the next day, attempting to make up for the work I pushed aside to help her. When she called later that morning, I told her not to come in and to take a few days to recuperate. I assured her I would return. But the endless amount of projects kept me working, and I ultimately spent the night.