“No.” His voice lacked conviction.
“Mr. Woods is right?” I shivered, hating how the man could be so wrong about me but perhaps not about Flynn. I thought of something else the vile man said. “Is he also right that you’d protect your deal with him over me?”
“I…” Flynn raised his tortured gaze to mine. “This is so much bigger than us. My company employs a lot of people. For some of them, it’s their primary income. They have families.”
My mouth dropped open, his words lost on me. I’m spinning over his regretful tone. With Flynn’s resources, I had a chance to save my ass. I have nothing. I’d have to start a new career and the taint of the accusations would follow me around—if I wasn’t in jail by then. “You’re not going to help me?”
“N-n-no, of course, I will.”
If the stutter was resurfacing, I was making him nervous again, but it didn’t stop me from pressing. “How? Or should we talk in secret so we aren’t seen together?” His expression clouded over and my anger narrowed, spiking like the base of a mushroom cloud. I was an emotional wreck and it clouded my thinking. I’d taken care of myself for so long but suddenly I felt like I couldn’t survive without Flynn? I didn’t need him. My heart twisted, but I fortified my resolve. I stood up and reached for the leftover chicken breast but snatched my hand back. A small gesture for pride’s sake and the beginning of a long, lonely road. “What’s your excuse for not helping your sister? I can’t imagine her image will take down your empire.”
A muscle jumped in Flynn’s jaw. His expression was tortured. Worried for me and Lynne—or himself?
I spun and stormed out, my bag flung over my shoulder and knocking into people. I almost shouted, “So sue me!” but this crowd truly would.
Hot tears streamed down my face and I ignored all the faces turned my way. I was so glad I had half a tank of gas I could stretch out for weeks and grateful I hadn’t ridden here with Flynn. Why hadn’t I learned as a kid? It was me, myself, and I in this world, and in my case, all three of us might go to jail.
Chapter 14
Tilly
Don’t cry yet. I listened to the principal explain the terms of my leave. “Yes, sir. No, I understand.” I understood he’d drop me like I was Thor’s hammer if the school got anything more than a whiff of my turmoil. If this wasn’t resolved by the time school started, I might not have a job to go back to. And he’d made it clear that if I got arrested for something like child abuse, I’d be terminated.
I’d never said fuck my life after all I’d survived, but it was coming close.
I cruised through the help-wanted ads online. Anything with kids was obviously out. It was like flushing four years of college down the drain.
After the confrontation with Mr. Woods and witnessing the real Flynn Halstengard Tuesday night, I’d come back and cried myself to sleep. Then I’d strapped on my lady balls and searched for work all day yesterday.
Today, I was still unemployed. All my clients had abandoned me, and I wanted to hate them all but couldn’t. They had done what they felt was right for their kids, even though I was perfect for their kids, had helped them in so many ways. School was starting in over a month. Would the kids get set up with more tutoring before then? Or would their skills stagnate until then?
Worry gnawed at me. I’d invested so much of myself in their futures, and they were gone. I was off-limits, couldn’t even get updates of their progress. If I waited for things to blow over, could I build my business back up, or would rumors circulate and forever tarnish my reputation?
I had a feeling I knew the answer.
My parents. That asshole had tracked down my parents. My dad had blamed me for the dead cat when I’d sobbed over the limp body as my own took the most severe beating of my life.
A car accident? Anyone naïve enough to believe I could break only my jaw in a car accident didn’t deserve a dime, much less a fucking bank.
I wanted to lean on Flynn so badly. My platinum-haired knight in shining gym wear, coming to chase away the mean girls throwing litter. Why had he helped me all those years ago? A teen that risked ridicule to do that wouldn’t leave his sister.
It was before he’d left home. Before he’d left his mom and Lynne. Was his mom as bad as he’d said? Or was it like my parents, spreading a different story of hate than what had really happened?
I tapped Flynn’s name into my computer. I shouldn’t waste my time. It wasn’t like I had a bunch of calls and messages from him to ignore. But here I was, searching him online. I sifted through several recent articles about him and his work until I found his dad’s obituary. A plain and simple article that listed his kids Flynn and Lynne as survivors. The cause of death was drowning.
From the year, Flynn would’ve been fourteen, maybe fifteen. Poor kid, losing his dad so young and taking care of his mom and sister.
No. I couldn’t feel sorry for him when I didn’t know his circumstances. He certainly hadn’t told me. Nor had he disputed Mr. Woods’s insinuation that he was paying his mother off to leave him alone and keep quiet about his sister.
I wanted to believe the best. So badly. Yet he wasn’t here. He hadn’t called. He’d let me leave and hadn’t come after me with an explanation. Despite what Mr. Woods had said about Flynn’s mom, his reputation at work meant more.
After all, he hadn’t invited me to bring lunch again. As if that moment in the office had exposed us too much. As if he’d never put me on his arm and call me his girlfriend.
There was nothing I could do about him. I had to help myself. Tapping around on my keyboard, I eventually spit out Mrs. Woods’s full name. A search turned up nothing. No honors. No top of her class. She’d probably been a spoiled girl who’d gotten her way, then found a man to give her everything she asked for with minimal work.
That hadn’t been my future. I’d had to scrounge to keep out of the gutter, and I hadn’t stepped on one person to do it. Yet people suspected me of hitting a child when Mrs. Woods was the one with a Hulk-sized cruel streak.
I pulled up Mrs. Blumenthal’s number and dialed it. When the woman answered, I explained my dire situation with work and a future income.
“Oh, dear, that’s bad. How could they think that of you? But thanks to your man friend, I’ll give you two free months of rent. That’s what it would’ve cost if I’d had to pay the deductible.”
I slumped, letting my eyelids fall closed. Finding a place to rent in the cities was hard enough, but a nice and reasonable place was almost impossible. And I had no extra money for a deposit or first and last months’ rent. “Thank you so much. I wasn’t sure what I’d do. I just need to find a temporary job to tide me over.”
“I’ll call my son. He’s always looking for help in his grocery store in Bloomington. What hours can you work?”
“Anything and everything.” For the first time in days, I smiled. Just being able to bring in an income, even save some money, would take a load of stress off my mind.
“Okay, let me call him. Can I give him your number?”
“Of course. And thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“It’s no problem, Tilly. You’re my best tenant, and I don’t believe that load of shit for one second.”
“Between you and me, I think Charlie’s mom beat him.” I snapped my mouth shut. Where had that come from? But it made sense. Mrs. Woods was the only other person with consistent access to Charlie. For all Mr. Woods’ many, many faults, and no matter how he’d treated me, he seemed to truly care about Charlie’s welfare. “I honestly wouldn’t put it past her to do it when I was working, or when the nanny was there, so she had someone to blame it on.”
“That shouldn’t be between you and me, Tilly. Tell the police.” After a few more encouragements to hang in there, she hung up.
Who’d believe me, with the pull Mr. Woods had?
Mrs. Blumenthal had my back, though. I sighed. My boyfriend was too concerned about his image to stay by my side, but my landlady believed me. So there wa
s that.
I didn’t want to get too excited after the call, so I cruised more help-wanted ads. Scribbling down my choices from best to worst, I listed all the jobs I thought I’d be competent at and where my potential legal woes wouldn’t be a problem. Basically, a place that wouldn’t vilify me if word reached them about what I’d been accused of.
My phone rang. For a moment, I fervently hoped it was Flynn checking on me. I didn’t recognize the number.
Foolish girl.
I answered. It was Mrs. Blumenthal’s son, offering me a job. I could start tomorrow, stocking shelves on the graveyard shift.
I clicked my phone off after agreeing to start at eleven p.m. the next night. I’d work all weekend, eleven to seven. It wasn’t like I had lessons to plan all day for the rest of the summer.
There was a knock at the door. My heart leaped into my throat. Flynn?
I sprinted across the room to answer it. Without even checking the peephole, I swung the door open.
Two police officers, a male, and a female waited on my stoop.
“Tilly Johnson?”
Flynn
“Flynn? Dude? Mr. Halstengard, sir?”
I glanced up at the sarcastic tone. Matthew stared at me, one manicured brow raised.
“You never call me Mr. Halstengard.”
“Because it’d be a waste of air after two years as your PA. But, dude, you so weren’t listening to me. Do you want your hair appointment after your suit fitting so you don’t shed little stubs all over new threads you haven’t bought yet?”
“Yeah, I don’t care.” Not one bit. Usually, I did, was very particular about what I wore and when I upgraded my work clothes. Always the best image possible.
“Seriously.” Matthew set his tablet down. “I’m going to step out of bounds here, so fair warning. Now I’m not oblivious. You came back from your bachelor vacation a moody beast. Then you were skiing on rainbows for the last few weeks. I even got home at a decent hour every single night. And you didn’t call or leave messages at all on the weekends. Don’t think I haven’t been dying to know who the cutie is that Mrs. Silverstein was horrified she almost kicked out. What’s her name?”
I stared at the door. How many times since that awful night had I wished Mrs. Silverstein would notify me of a girl who’d brought me lunch and wouldn’t leave?
Tilly had taken the news of Lynne pretty hard. She’d seemed more hurt that I hadn’t been completely honest with her. But the look of total betrayal when she thought I’d chosen my career over her was a knife in the gut every time the image ran through my head. I hadn’t seen it that way at the time; I would’ve been there for her, but every time I came to work and didn’t phone my legal department, I imagined myself stomping the knife in her back even deeper.
I hadn’t heard more from John. Perhaps I could finish the project and sign off on everything without incident. The man must not have found anything on Tilly. Of course, how would I know?
Matthew snapped his fingers. “You’re spacing on me again. Woman's problems?”
“You’re right. You’re stepping out of bounds.”
Matthew’s lips pressed together, and he snatched up his tablet like well then.
I should apologize. My phone rang. Wes. Was he calling for a golf date? Cuz I could get lost in eighteen holes for a while. It’d take days of eighteen holes to think through the mess I’d made of my life.
“Just a minute,” I told Matthew, then answered.
“What. The hell. Is going on?” Wes’s voice shook. He was livid.
“What are you talking about? Wait.” I sat forward. “Is Tilly okay? Did that bastard get to her?”
“No, Tilly’s not okay, fuckwad. Mara just bailed her out. Where the hell were you?”
I slammed my hand on the table. Matthew jumped but stayed where he was. “Where is she?”
“Not Arkham anymore, no thanks to you. Mara and I barely got the story out of her in the first place. Then she was incoherent when Mara and I didn’t know you two were seeing each other. Why the hell would you keep that secret?”
I sank my face into my free hand. “We haven’t talked much in the last few weeks. I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, with Tilly, I hear. How is all this shit connected?”
“Where is she?” The only thing pushing to the front of my mind was Tilly’s well-being. She’d been arrested and thrown in jail. For how long?
Wes let out a breath of frustration. “She’s home. She only called because she was frantic to make the first shift of her new job since that asshole blasted her career.”
My Tilly wasn’t going to sit at home and lose hope. “When does she leave for work?”
It was four o’clock on a Friday. Where would she be working?
“Not till tonight. I guess it’s some night-shift job stocking shelves.”
I shot up. Matthew’s eyes widened. He’d been riveted to my side of the conversation. Tilly was going to be working herself into the ground all night long?
Meanwhile, who the fuck beat that kid and was getting away with it?
“Wes, you helped out Mara with some legal issues, right?”
“No? Oh, you mean the sleazy professor. I would’ve done that whether she wanted me to or not.”
I caught Matthew’s gaze. “Your partner’s still a cop, right?”
“Yup.”
“Does he know legal shit?”
Matthew rolled his eyes. “Please, half his job is pleasing or pissing off lawyers.”
“What about cases of child abuse? Does he deal with that?”
He sobered. “More than anyone would realize.”
I hit the speaker on the phone. “Okay, guys. I need some help.”
Chapter 15
Tilly
I slogged into my place. The hot July sun was already up, and it wasn’t even eight in the morning.
My muscles ached. My job—my former job—had been active, but it was nothing like my new one. It was moving my body for eight hours up and down stools, filling bins, lining goods on shelves, emptying boxes.
I’d missed the entire weekend. Work, sleep, repeat was all I’d done.
Because now I had to pay Mara back the bail money. But I now had a court-appointed lawyer. So there was that.
I trudged to my computer. No messages. Nothing on my calendar. I didn’t have another shift until the weekend. That meant when I woke up, I’d have to find another job.
Speaking of work. I pulled up the email from my boss at the school. I had resigned, effective immediately. There was no use putting him in the difficult position of prolonging the inevitable. Clearing my name against Mr. Woods’s accusations might prove impossible.
Kicking off my shoes, I didn’t bother with my clothing. I collapsed into bed and threw an arm over my face. The inability of my blinds to keep out the sun had escaped my notice before now. They were threadbare, and light shone right onto the bed.
My phone rang.
Dammit. Who the hell would bother me at this ungodly hour?
I didn’t recognize the number but that wasn’t unusual during the past week.
“Tilly Johnson?” It was a woman’s voice, someone I didn’t know.
“Yep.” I kept my arm over my face.
“I’m Luna O’Donnell, the attorney who’s been hired for your case.”
“Oh, the court-appointed one?” But the guy who’d been at my arraignment had been, well, a guy. And clearly unimpressed with my suspicions in Charlie’s case.
“No, ma’am. Flynn Halstengard hired me.” I bolted upright and almost dropped the phone. Luna kept talking. “I have some documents to go over with you, and then some questions about your experience with Charles Woods and his dad, John Woods. What time can you meet?”
“Flynn hired you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What about his precious business?” Bitterness seeped through my tone, but I was beyond caring.
“The corporation has attorneys assigned to it in
that regard. I’m dedicated solely to you.”
I couldn’t respond. He’d hired me a lawyer. After he’d taken care of his own company. I wasn’t nothing to him, but I wasn’t his priority, either.
His best friend hadn’t even known about us. Flynn was so considerate in private—except for that one time at the theater with Becky. He hadn’t proclaimed his love for me, but he hadn’t pointed out that I was the crazy lady who’d bid for him, either. So, he’d stood up for me, but at the same time, he hadn’t.
Kind of like high school.
He’d been nice enough to me, but he hadn’t tried to be my friend or get to know me, Tulip Johnson. Crazy J.
“Miss Johnson, we’d like to conduct our own investigation into the identity of Charlie Woods’s abuser. Can we meet to talk?”
Not when I’d been up all night. “Want to find out Charlie’s abuser? Let’s see, since they couldn’t keep a nanny, I’d ask the Stepford mom exactly how Charlie got his bruises.”
Luna was quiet on the other end. Was she taking notes, or did she have the blank look my court-appointed attorney had given me?
There was a knock at the door.
“For the love of God, can’t a girl get some rest around here?”
“Excuse me, Miss Johnson?”
“Not you. Look, I’m tired and I have to talk to Mr. Halstengard about this arrangement first. But unless you’re going to be the kind of lawyer who cares that I don’t end up in jail, who’ll gun for the real abuser, and who’ll legal-speak my parents into the ground for what they said about me, I may as well stick with my listless court-appointed attorney. Thanks.” I tossed the phone on the nightstand and went to answer the door Luna already forgotten. Why get her hopes up?
I didn’t bother to check who it was. Last time had turned out pretty swell, it’s not like it could be worse. I was a hardened criminal now, could take whatever was on the other side of that door.
A rumpled-looking Flynn greeted me. His gaze drank me in like a man starved of water, but I steeled myself. I needed my fortitude to fight the good fight, and from what I’d learned the last time we were together, the good fight wasn’t Flynn.
First to Bid: A Bachelor Auction Romance (Unraveled Book 2) Page 14