“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered as he stepped inside, which was even worse. Filthy cracked and missing tiles, peeling puke green paint, a burned out light and the hallway carried a heavy odor of piss. How could Olivia live here?
How could anyone live here?
She lived in what looked like squalor, while her brother lived high on the hog in a mansion in the best part of town.
And, of course, she lived on the third floor in a building with no elevator.
With another curse, he bound up the first flight of steps then had much less energy for the second. Well, it was four in the morning and it was difficult to muster up the energy this early. Especially after he and Grant fucked Olivia once more after recovering from the first round last night.
All three had finally fallen asleep just after one a.m. totally exhausted. And here he was, trying to get a jump on grabbing her laptop while it was still dark. He didn’t want to wait until tonight since he figured it was safer to do it at a less orthodox time. And, anyway, tonight he planned a repeat of last night, except he was going to encourage them to start a lot earlier in the evening.
Once he hit the third-floor landing, he paused and listened to see if anyone was following him. Greeted by complete silence, he released a breath of relief. He surveyed the hallway and the three apartment doors. Unfortunately, this floor was no better than the first. If it was up to him, the building would be condemned, and he hadn’t even seen her apartment yet.
He approached apartment number ten. The zero hung upside down by one screw, and the number one was completely missing. Pulling the key from his pocket, he inserted it into the deadbolt, but the door creaked open a crack before he even had a chance to turn the key.
Fuck.
The locks had been broken.
Someone had already been in her apartment and he doubted it was the super. Cautiously, he opened the door. The apartment was completely dark as he took a single step inside and halted, listening carefully once again. He didn’t want to turn on the lights in case someone watched outside from the street.
He pulled his small, but powerful, LED flashlight from his pocket and twisted it on. Keeping it low, he shined it over the floor and froze.
The place was trashed, and he doubted Olivia kept her apartment in that condition. He took two more steps deeper into the living room and things crunched beneath his feet.
Everything had been tossed. The beam of light crossed the old worn couch against the wall. The cushions had been overturned and slashed. The old analog TV smashed. He turned the other direction and shined the light into the small galley kitchen. Every cabinet hung open, every mismatched plate or glass Olivia owned was scattered across the linoleum in pieces.
Whoever did this had to have made a lot of noise. He wondered if any of the neighbors had called the police. Or if it had been the police on Randall Dean’s payroll that had actually done the “search.”
Either way, Olivia was right, Dean knew who she was and where she lived. She was a liability for the senator. An inconvenience of epic proportion that needed to be dealt with.
Not only was Olivia correct, but so was he for making her come stay at their house.
She told him her laptop had been left charging in her bedroom, but he knew it wouldn’t be there. Regardless, he went into her bedroom, the narrow, bright beam of light leading the way.
Her mattress and box spring had been overturned and tossed to the center of the small room. Both had been sliced open similar to the couch cushions. Her dresser was knocked over and her clothes scattered across the floor. Of course, there was no laptop. Not even the remnants of a destroyed one. Someone took it.
He stepped closer to the closet which hung wide open. Clothes and a few pairs of shoes laid in a heap on the bottom of the tiny closet.
Even with everything a mess, he could tell Olivia didn’t have much. Her apartment was sparse for the most part and only included the basics. Or had, anyway.
He doubted she’d ever be able to come back to this apartment again. As soon as the super saw the condition, he figured there would be an eviction notice plastered to the door.
That was fine with him. She deserved so much better than this place. If Trey didn’t step up and help her, then he and Grant would.
He needed to get out of there, but he needed to find the memory chip first. He didn’t know if Dean knew it existed, but he hoped not.
They wanted her laptop and they wanted her. They might not have known there was any incriminating evidence on her computer, either. But once they accessed the hard drive, they definitely would.
Then the hunt for Olivia would be even more intense.
They needed to keep her safe.
And to do that he needed to find that fucking chip.
He reached into the closet, his hand feeling around the inside edge of the wall. He slid his hand up and down until he finally felt it.
A small piece of Duct tape. Eli ripped it off the wall and turned the flashlight on it, flipping the grey tape over.
He blew out a relieved breath. It was there, still stuck to the backside of the tape.
Thank fuck.
Peeling it off, he balled the tape up into a tight wad and dropped it amongst the mess, then pushed the chip deep into the coin pocket of his jeans.
Then he got out of there, making sure he still wasn’t spotted or followed.
Sticking to the shadows, he jogged the two blocks back to his blacked-out Land Rover and sped all the way back to the office to see what secrets that tiny chip held.
“Trey, sit the fuck down,” Gryff barked at this lover. “Your pacing is driving me mental.”
“I can’t help that I’m worried,” Olivia’s brother snapped back.
“We’re all fucking worried,” Gryff growled.
“Boys,” Rayne murmured in her soft way that had both men’s eyes landing on her instantly. “Trey, sit down. Boss, calm down.”
Eli fought back a smirk at the control the woman had over both of her partners. He was pretty sure if they wanted sex with her tonight, they needed to stay out of the doghouse. One way of doing that was by paying attention to what she said. And spoiling her.
Oh, did they love to spoil her. Not that he blamed them. He could imagine getting locked out of Rayne Jordan’s bedroom because she was pissed would be a punishment of devastating proportions.
Gryff’s mouth closed. Even though he leaned against the wall, his body was still tight, his arms crossed over his chest, his face dark. And it was more than his skin tone. Eli could see the concern clearly in his boss’s face.
But they were all concerned.
Grant stood behind him as Eli leaned back in his office chair, rubbing a hand over his smooth head. Trey sighed finally and settled in one of the chairs facing Eli’s wide desk.
Rayne was already settled in the other one, her gorgeous legs in sexy stockings crossed. Eli did his best not to ogle his bosses. Whether it was Gryff, who was smoking hot in a dominant way, Trey who was smoking hot in a professional athlete way, or Rayne, who was just smoking hot, especially how she dressed and carried herself.
And all three of them had intelligence to spare. Though, sometimes he wondered about Trey. He might be smart, but the man could do stupid things.
But then, like Eli, Trey had no father to raise him or give him guidance. At least, Eli had a good, caring mother. Trey and Olivia hadn’t even had that much.
“Eli,” came softly from behind him. “Are you going to keep us all on pins and needles?”
Eli glanced over his shoulder at his husband. “No. I was just waiting for Trey to settle the hell down, so he’d pay attention.”
“I’m paying attention,” Trey grumped as he crossed his arms over his chest, too.
“Good. Let me start by saying this, Olivia’s not going back to that apartment ever. You’d be appalled to see it, not because it was trashed but because it’s a slum house. I’m going to lay it out for you, Trey, what you need to do for your sis
ter and you need to listen carefully.” His eyes slid to Rayne then Gryff. “Though, I’m sure if you forget, you’ll have someone to remind you and ride your ass.” He finally did smirk. “And not in the way you enjoy, mind you.”
“Since when did you become boss here? If I remember correctly—”
“Trey,” Rayne cut him off with a soft voice.
Trey shut up immediately, but not without a frown. He ran a hand through his longish dark blond hair, messing it up even more than it already was.
“Until this is over and until you find her a safer place to live, she’ll remain with us,” Eli announced.
He didn’t miss Gryff’s brows raise in surprise. His boss’s gaze landed behind him, most likely on Grant. “You don’t mind?”
After last night, Eli highly doubted Grant minded. But now was not the time to point that out. He doubted Trey, Gryff and possibly even Rayne would be thrilled to know that Olivia was now sleeping in their bed. Or, at least, did last night. And if it was up to him, she would remain there during the duration of her stay.
“No, I don’t mind at all,” Grant said carefully behind him.
Eli was tempted to turn around to see if Grant struggled to keep a blank expression.
“Okay, so she’s safe at your house for now. She can’t go back to her apartment because Dean knows she lives there, they took her laptop, so they know, or will know, that she has incriminating evidence against the asshole. And you have the backup memory chip in your possession,” Trey summarized. “Can we get on with what needs to happen next? What our options are?”
Rayne reached over, grabbed her lover’s hand and squeezed.
Eli understood Trey’s impatience, so he tried not to let that get under his skin. Even though the man was hot and the type that, years ago, Eli would’ve picked up at a club, taken home, and fucked him until they passed out... he was glad he didn’t live with the man. Sometimes the former star quarterback acted like an immature child. And more often than not, Gryff or Rayne had to step in to remind him of that. They had a lot more patience than Eli did. Okay, maybe Rayne had more patience than Gryff.
Eli sighed. “I went through the chip. Unfortunately, there’s not a lot on it, but what there is may point the finger at Dean between the at least half dozen texts and the dozen pictures of Dean caught in compromising... situations.”
“So, what’s his kink?” Trey asked.
“I will preface this by saying, I have nothing against kink as long as it’s between two consenting adults. His taste is certainly not mine... or Grant’s. And I really doubt it’s yours, either. But...” He paused. “What he was into isn’t illegal in any sense of the word. However, as an uber conservative who spouts pious nonsense and who wants to control women as well as their choices, I’m sure if these photos got out, he’d be finished. It would prove what a hypocrite he is. And the texts do prove, at least in theory, that this Peggy was pregnant. She claimed it was his and he insisted on her ‘taking care of it,’ which were his words, but they were not the only way he said it. In one text, he came right out and used the word abortion, which he’s on a campaign to ban.”
“Very hypocritical of the good senator,” Rayne said bitterly.
“Yeah, well, we all know he’s a piece of shit,” Grant chimed in. “Even other people in his own party know that. But he does have a rabid evangelical following who treats him as though he’s the second coming of Christ.”
“Well, they’d be appalled at what his true nature is,” Eli confirmed.
“So, what’s his kink?” Trey asked again.
“I... uh...” Eli started, trying to gather his thoughts.
“Fuck,” Gryff muttered from across the room.
“I don’t know the extent of it. Only what I saw in the photos and read in a couple of the texts. But nothing was said in detail. I think Olivia may know a little more, but she did say she told Peggy she didn’t want to know. And I’m not sure knowing details will help us. Just the general fact of him wanting to hide his kink from the public, as well as Peggy being a prostitute who was carrying his child, as well as his demand for her to get an abortion is enough to create a reasonable suspicion that he was indeed the murderer.”
“Jesus, Eli, what the fuck is the man’s kink?” Trey asked, his voice raised.
“Trey!” Rayne snapped.
“Well, the man’s avoiding the answer.”
“It’s not that I’m avoiding it, it’s—”
“Elliott,” came the low warning behind him.
Eli took a deep breath and let it spill out, “Dean’s into paraphilic infantilism.”
“What the fuck is that?” Trey asked loudly, releasing Rayne’s hand and leaning forward in his seat. “And that’s not illegal?”
“No. It’s nothing more than wanting to be treated like an infant.”
“An infant,” Gryff repeated.
Eli’s eyes landed on his boss. “Right. He wore diapers, drank from bottles, sucked his thumb or a pacifier. Peggy played the role of his ‘mother.’ He’d ‘nurse’ from her, if you get my meaning. Though, there is one text where he wanted her to find a woman who was lactating. And he did offer a pretty penny for that service if she could find one.”
“Did she?”
Eli shook his head. “I don’t know. Again, my information’s limited right now to the text and photos that Peggy thought to save. I’m sure she had more prior to becoming pregnant and realizing that things might not go her way.”
“I’m not sure that wearing a diaper and nursing on a bottle would have looked good on his campaign posters or on future campaign posters,” Rayne mentioned with a smile. “That fucker’s finished.”
“Rayne, we need to concentrate on Liv and only exposing the fucker to keep her safe and make sure Peggy gets justice. We shouldn’t concentrate on his religious or political views,” Gryff reminded her. “Being a hypocrite isn’t illegal. It’s immoral, yes, but murder is illegal. Let’s remember that.”
“Right,” Rayne said with a sparkle in her eye. “Oh, there will be justice.”
“For women everywhere,” Grant added softly behind him.
Rayne’s gaze lifted to above Eli’s shoulder, so he could only imagine that she and Grant were sharing a knowing look at the satisfied smile that Rayne wore. He sighed again.
“Okay, so now what?” Trey asked. “We know he’s fucked up; we know he murdered this Peggy woman. So...”
“So, I need to talk to some people, keep my ear to the ground and see what the man’s up to. And you have assignments, too,” Eli told Trey.
“Like what?”
“This is where Rayne and Gryff will have to keep you on track.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, for fuck’s sake.”
Eli shrugged, purposely not looking at Gryff who would probably refute what Trey just said.
“You need to go get her a burner phone. We need to dispose of her cell.”
The one she had, they turned off the GPS and the power before throwing into the safe in Gryff’s office after hearing that Dean was after her. That one had to go. There was no way Dean was going to use that to track Olivia down. And it was an outdated phone anyway. But right now, a burner would work.
“Program all of our numbers into it and that’s it. Then I need you to get her a new laptop since she needs it to continue with school.”
“We have a spare one here,” Gryff cut in.
“No. Trey’s going to get her a new one. Top of the line and loaded.” His gaze hit Trey. “She needs something that will get her through her school work and her degree.”
“Which is what?” Gryff asked.
Good question. He had no idea, but he planned to find out. “I don’t know. I don’t care if she isn’t taking graphic design, but get her one powerful enough and with enough memory as if she is.”
“Damn, you’re bossy,” Trey grumbled.
Eli cocked an eyebrow at him. “This is your sister. I saw her apartment. She was living in squalor. She d
eserves a lot better, do you not agree, Mr. Super Bowl Champion?”
Trey frowned. “Of course.”
“Eli, it wasn’t Trey’s fault—”
Eli lifted his hand, stopping Grant. “I know it wasn’t. But Trey shouldn’t have any problem stepping up and helping to take care of his younger sister. Right, Trey?”
“Right.”
He turned his attention to Rayne, who had her lips rolled under in an attempt to keep a straight face. Though her sparkling green eyes gave her amusement away. “Rayne.”
“Should I start calling you Boss, too?”
“Don’t you dare,” Gryff growled behind her.
Rayne finally gave up and laughed. “Okay, Eli, what do you need from me?”
“Gift cards for clothes. I’ll have her buy her own online and let her get what she wants. And though you have a great sense of style, I doubt she’ll be comfortable wearing your type of clothes. Though, the nightgown...”
Eli stopped, the memory of Olivia waiting for them in bed wearing that maroon number sweeping through his mind.
“On te remercie pour cela.” He and Grant certainly thanked Rayne for that purchase.
Rayne winked at him. “Avec plaisir. Ce n'était rien.”
He disagreed. Though she said it was nothing, Eli wondered what was swirling in that mind of hers.
Trey’s head spun toward Rayne. “Wait. Did you buy her a sexy nightgown? And, what the fuck? When did you learn to speak French? Is he teaching you French?”
“Just a little,” Rayne murmured. “And yes, I bought her something to wear to bed.”
“How sexy is it? Because I can’t imagine you buying some dowdy Amish-style flannel nightgown. And if it’s anything like the ones you have at home...” Trey asked, scowling in her direction.
“Very,” Rayne said honestly with a small smile. “But it covers her to her ankles, big brother, so don’t worry.”
“What was wrong with the baggy T-shirt she borrowed from Grant?”
“Nothing, but the woman probably never owned anything impractical like that, so I got it for her.” She lifted one shoulder slightly like it was no big deal.
Dare to Surrender: The Dare Menage Series, Book 5 Page 10