Page 65 of Affliction
“And you just let them? If you thought he was hurting her why would you not do everything in your power to get her the fuck out of there?” My patience is wearing thin and my restraint is about to snap.
“I had no proof. All outside appearances said they were high school sweethearts who were very much in love. I never saw her with any marks. She ran to his defense any time I got suspicious and promised me that they were great, that he was good to her, and there were no issues between them. I will regret believing her for the rest of my life, for not trusting my intuition. She was the only family that I had left after Anthony and Tanya passed away. I was too scared that if I took her out of there, she would hateme and I’d lose her too.” He pauses, swallowing roughly. “In the end, I lost her anyway.” He glares at me for a moment before I see his eyes fill with unshed tears. I can see that she means the world to him. I might want to throttle the fuck out of him for leaving her in the hands of someone who might have been hurting her, but it’s obvious it haunts him. That’s punishment enough in my eyes.
“So why did she have to leave two years ago?” I ask.
“She showed up at one of the clubs I run, beaten and covered in blood.” My teeth grind together. “She ran, and told me the house was gone, and so was he. About that time, I received a call from one of my men who’s in with the local fire department, letting me know that someone called in smoke coming from the area their house was in. I had them keep their trucks stationed and divert any further calls about the matter, then sent two other men out to go see what happened. The house was fully engulfed when they arrived, and they stood watch to let it burn to the ground. They found Preston’s body inside, and disposed of him. She wouldn’t tell me what happened, just that he was gone. From what they gathered from his body–and how she arrived at the club–there was a struggle, she stabbed him, beat him with something and the house caught fire. The investigation I had done on the house showed a candle had been knocked over next to some curtains, that part was purely accidental.” He explains. Karson lets out a low whistle behind me.
“Holy shit.” He rasps and I nod in agreement.
“Preston’s father–Sam–at the time, was the governor. I wouldn’t say that he loved his son, maybe viewed him as more of a possession; using his family like a tool to put on the show of the loving family man who had Rhode Island’s citizens best interests at heart. But he was dirty and slimy to the core.” Nick starts.
“We knowthe type.” I say.
“Yeah well, the governor's son disappearing didn’t look good for Sam. There was speculation that the two of them ran off together and burnt the house to hide their tracks. The rumors were crazy. The media stayed camped outside of his house for months, harassing him and his wife any time they left. He went on a warpath to try to figure out what really happened. I, of course, had to play the role of the devastated uncle who just lost his niece. After about six months of people looking for their bodies, or proof of life from either of them, we held a funeral. That put an end to the rumors and the media left the Gallo family alone. Eventually, they moved out of the state.” He swallows and clears his throat. “When Lizzy was ten, her father and I put together a whole new identity for her. With what we…with whatIdo, you can never be too careful. I held onto that in case she ever needed it. So when she showed up, I put her on a plane with an envelope and sent her out to Oregon. A friend of mine met her at the airport, and put her in a house, got her settled in.”
“Hazel?” I question, and Nick’s body tenses for a moment before he nods. “They’re still close, you know. They have dinner together often.” Nick smiles, then nods. Telling me he already knows.
He and Hazel must still be in contact.
I continue. “That background you put together for her, to someone who wouldn’t know any different was solid. I didn’t find you because you and her father didn’t cover well enough. In what I do, I’ve learned to sniff bullshit and dig until I get the answers. That’s how I got to you.”
“I looked into you after you called. Cain Defenses is one of the most sought after security agencies in the country. You boys have quite the reputation.” Nick turns to look at Karson then me.
“What makes you thinkParkeris here in Rhode Island, Nick? If Preston’s dead, and everyone else thinks she is too, who would come after her? And two years later no less.” I ask confused, it doesn’t make sense.
“Sam has never stopped trying to figure out what happened. He harassed me for a long time, even after they moved. He would occasionally show up on my doorstep, accusing her of doing something to his son. It didn’t matter that I had held a funeral for her, he never bought it. My best guess is he found her somehow. He stepped down as governor shortly after the fire, but he still has unlimited resources.”
“So…revenge. That makes sense considering the only people she speaks to regularly is Ashlynn, Hazel and us. He must have hired that Alex fucker.” Karson seethes from the back.
“My men caught one of Sam’s security members boarding their private jet three days ago. There was no manifest logged for the trip, and they returned early yesterday morning. Looks to me like he sent someone after her.” Nick says and I feel my body vibrate with rage.
I will get her back. I will not stop until she is safe back in my arms. These past two days have been torturous not holding her, hearing her laugh, waking up beside her. I will destroy anyone who stands in my way.
Nick’s phone ringing breaks me from my thoughts, and he places it to his ear. Pulling my phone out, I quickly respond to Elias’ barrage of check in messages to fill him in. He offered to leave the job he’s on now to come help find Parker, but I told him to stay put. His frequent calls and texts are enough for now. The Wilson case took one hell of a turn when they crossed into Canada, and he’s needed there if we want that girl to make it out of this alive. From what he’s told me though, when they get her, she’s going to have a hell of a road ahead of her.
“What do you got?” He snaps into the phone. He remains still, and his face pales. “Are you sure?” He nods, hangs up, then rattles off an address to his driver. “Fucking now!” He growls, then sits back in his seat.
“Well? What the fuck was that?” I ask. His jaw clenches and his knuckles turn white. My stomach drops at his next statement.
“I know where she is.”
Chapter thirty-six
Age Twenty-seven
The night of the fire
He told me he’dbe home on time tonight, and I don’t know why I actually fucking believed him. Maybe it’s because I’m so lonely, that I crave company. Even if that company is the very reason I’m lonely in the first place. Maybe that's been his goal all along. Keep me locked up in this house away from everyone, so that I could be grateful for hisattention.I’m anything but grateful. Every day I wake up hoping it’s the day he finally lands a blow hard enough to end it all. I’m just so damn tired.
Sitting at the kitchen table, I mindlessly push the food around on my plate with one hand, my chin resting in the other. Music plays in the background, and I look over at the clock then roll my eyes.Fucking two in the morning?Slamming my hands down on the table, I snatch up my plate and storm over to the counter. Staring down into the perfectly cleaned farmhouse sink, a rage I have never felt before today takes over my entire body.
I’m so sick of this life. I’m so sick of him. I’m so sick of everything. I’m done. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long, or why a stupid fucking missed dinner–one out of a million–is what’s finally sent me over the edge, but I. Am. Done.
Raising my hands above my head, I slam my plate down. The porcelain explodes and shards bounce out the sink with bits of the meal that I prepared for us tonight. Food that went untouched. Spinning around, I move quickly through the living room, then up the stairs into our bedroom. Flinging the closet door open, I change out of the shorts and t-shirt that I have on. I pull on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then throw a pullover on top. Moving at a pace I didn’t know I was capable of, I go over to the dresser and pull out a pair of socks. Once I slide on my socks and shoes, I run back down the stairs.
Fuck the clothes, or the phone that doesn’t even work. Fuck it all! It can be replaced.
Cinderella’s Deadby Emeline is playing through the television speakers when I land at the base of the stairs, and I can’t help the scoff as I run by.
