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Freeing Him: A Hart Brothers Novel, Book 2 Page 15
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When I see Tom, he seems relieved that I’m calling off the search on Langston.
“The more I thought about it, the more I realized how foolish it was. I can let Langston scream at me all day long. And I’m letting it go.”
“Thanks, Dr. Martinelli. I appreciate that. But I want you to know that I tried to get into their system. I did it from an outside computer.”
“What? Not your own, I hope?”
“No. A public one. At the library.”
“Thank God.”
“I wanted it untraceable. But Hart Entertainment employs security in their system much like we do. So it would take a lot to break in. I wanted to check it before I did an actual attempt. It would be difficult to hack.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t do it from somewhere they could trace.”
Tom laughed. “No, ma’am. I would never do that. But thanks for calling it off. It would’ve taken a while to get in.”
That taken care of, I go back to get some work done. I have piles of stuff to muddle through and I sit there trying to figure out what I’m reading. Chloe delivers the mail and I set it aside momentarily.
I finish my current pile and Jack comes back in to ask me questions.While he’s there, I open a huge manila envelope. I figure it’s another contract. Why else would it be in such a large envelope?
I was wrong. Oh, was I ever wrong. I should’ve paid more attention to the handwriting and that it was scrawled and not a typed label. And I should’ve noted how heavy it was. But when I reach inside and pull out the contents, I’m horrified at what I see. At first my mouth opens. And then I scream. And scream. The contents fall to my desk in slow motion and I frantically reach for the trashcan because I start vomiting.
Loud voices yell all around me but I can’t respond. Then I hear Jack cursing. Then Axel runs inside.
Finally, when the heaving ends, I cry. No, I sob. The whole thing slams into me and I fall on my butt, weeping for what I know. That fucking bastard. Disgusting, vile monster.
Tom Barrett is now looking at the photos. Jack is crouched next to me.
“Gabby, are you okay?”
I’m mumbling because I can’t believe someone could be so cruel. So inhumane and cold-hearted.
Jack pushes a bottle of water into my hands.
“Shall I call Case?”
“Please.”
I stare at the note in my hand … the note that he wrote.
I told you, you fucked with the wrong person, baby girl.
And that’s it. But really, what else did he need to write?
Not much later, Case storms in. He takes one look at the pictures and says, “That fucking piece of shit. Gabby?”
“Down here.”
I still haven’t moved.
He crouches next to me too. Jack sits now, cross-legged, next to me. We look like we’re having a campfire council.
“Gabby, what …”
“It’s Kolson’s horse. Storm. He shot and killed his horse, Case. For revenge. To get back at me. For what I said. And then he sent me these pictures. Kolson loved that horse. Oh my God. It’s all my fault.”
“No. Stop thinking that. It’s Langston’s fault. He’s the one who did it. Come here.”
He pulls me into his arms and holds me while I sob. Oh God, how will I ever tell Kolson? What will I say?
“What else is he going to do?”
Case growls, “Not a damn thing. Right, Axel?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come on. We need to get you out of here,” Case says.
Axel follows us out to the waiting car and we drive home. Lydia is surprised that I’m home so early. When I explain, she goes off on a rampage and Case and I shut ourselves in Kolson’s office.
“Gabby,” he begins, his voice low, “you can’t tell him. Not yet, anyway. Maybe when everything’s over. But not now. He’s loose and on edge. This will push him and we can’t afford that. I know it’ll be tough not saying anything, but you have to do it. Especially after the issues with Kade.”
I glance out the window and look at the skyline. For a minute, I let myself reflect on the time Kolson took me up in the helicopter to help me forget all the abuse I went through. I wish there was a way to ease the loss of Storm for him. “Case, when we went to his dad’s, Kolson took me for a ride on Storm and told me the story of how they became close as rider and horse. Kolson was one of only two people who could ride Storm. This is really going to kill him. It’s way more than just a horse to him. Storm was Kolson’s best friend growing up. You know, he was the one that Kolson ran to when Langston was especially cruel.”
“Shit. Then maybe you need to tell him.”
“If I withhold this, he’ll be very upset with me.”
“Text him now and tell him to meet you here tonight.”
I do as Case suggests. Kolson responds immediately, and the rest of the day is total hell.
Once the sun is gone for the night, I wait in my studio; Sam is with me. As soon as I hear the sound of the key in the lock, my eyes burn with tears.
Kolson walks in. Sam says, “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.”
My arms reach for Kolson and pull him to me, and he knows. He knows something’s wrong.
“Tell me.”
I kiss the corners of his mouth first, thinking maybe that will ease the harsh words that are about to pierce this man’s heart. But I’m smarter than this. So I just begin.
“I received an envelope at work today. It was large. I opened it and it contained pictures.”
I stop and breathe, gulping air.
Swallowing, I continue, ignoring the way my heart thrums against my sternum. “When I looked at them, I screamed. Your father is a monster, Kolson. And it’s my fault. I caused this. In retaliation for my comments, he got his revenge … by killing Storm.” I can no longer contain my sobs. “I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved him and how much he meant to you. I’m so sorry.”
I hold his tense body in my arms, but he doesn’t respond. He’s like marble, just standing there, silent.
“Kolson, please say something.”
He can barely speak; his jaw is clenched so tightly. “What would you have me say? That I’m sad? You already know that. That I hate my father? You know that too. There isn’t anything worth saying right now.”
His fists are balled and I want him to do something other than stand there. But he doesn’t. He’s closed off everything. Even the part of him that used to talk to me. And that’s what has me most concerned.
I slide my fingers in his hair and look in his eyes. I need a connection with him. One where I can ground him, but he won’t even look at me.
“Kolson, let me in. Please.”
“Gabby, you don’t want to be where I am right now.” His voice is flat and hollow. And that worries me more than any kind of anger ever would. At least with anger comes passion. What stands in front of me is lifeless.
“I need to go.”
“Go? Where?”
And he walks away from me.
It’s the most helpless feeling I can remember.
***
The next morning I’m in the office when my cell phone rings.
“Martinelli.”
“Gabby.”
It’s Kestrel.
“What do you want?”
“I need to see you.”
“Why? So you can bring me more pictures?”
“No! You don’t think I had anything to do with that, do you?”
“Kestrel, I don’t know what to think anymore.”
“Please meet me. We can meet at a café or restaurant of your choice.”
This is perfect timing, even though I would never let on.
“Okay. Do you know The Market Café near the Park on East 60th?” I ask.
“No, but I’ll find it. I’ll be there at one thirty.”
He’s waiting for me when I arrive. He stands to greet me, his manners impeccable, exactly like Kolson’s.
&n
bsp; “Hi,” I say. “I’d like to say it’s good to see you, but I’m an honest person, Kestrel.”
“I know. I want you to know I’m sorry for what my father did.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s detestable.”
“Then why didn’t you put a stop to it?”
“I didn’t know he was going to do it! I only found out after the fact.”
Reaching across the table, I lay my hand on his. “Why would he do something so horrific?”
His eyes punch mine. “My father is a horrific man.” Then I feel his hand on top of mine.
“Why do you stay?”
“I … I have to.”
“No, you don’t.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Enlighten me. I’m a quick study.”
Now he lifts my hand and takes it between his and just holds it. I make a move to pull it back but he tightens his hold. So I scoot closer and bend forward. Then I place my other hand on his arm. He shutters his eyes as he sighs. This is a man who lives to be touched. I wrap my fingers around him and hold on tightly. And this is in no way a sexual thing. It’s purely tactile.
“My father likes to control everything and everyone around him. And he did a fine job of it with us. Still does with me.” He gives me a sad smile. “My mom cried all night long. Dad came in from the stables yelling about how he took down the mighty Storm. We didn’t know what he was talking about and then he tossed his phone to me and showed me the pictures. Mom and I were both mortified. She became ill and took to her room. She was still there when I left for work in the morning. Then last night, she was so upset, she still wouldn’t speak to him. I’ve never seen her like that.”
“Well, good for her.” My voice drips sarcasm. “Why did he do this to me?”
“He didn’t do it to you, Gabby. He did it to Kolson. He believes he’s out here somewhere and he thinks he’s getting back at him. He thinks you’ll tell him and then it will be my dad’s revenge.”
“What does he want?”
“Kolson. That’s all he’s ever wanted. He’s the only one Dad could never break. Well, and Storm. Now Storm is dead and it wouldn’t surprise me if when he finds Kolson, he doesn’t kill him too.”
“Kestrel, what makes you think Kolson’s still alive?”
Kestrel laughs. “They haven’t found a body yet, have they?”
In a very soft voice, I ask, “Kestrel, did Langston break you?”
“Look at me, Gabby. What do you think?”
“I think you may have a chip missing here and there, and maybe even a crack or two, but I don’t think you’re broken. I don’t think you’re broken at all.”
“No?” A bitter laugh escapes. “Then you don’t know me very well.”
“I can help you.”
He shakes his head. “What? Because you’re a shrink? I don’t need that kind of help. I know what’s wrong with me. What I need is to find a way to escape. And as long as my father’s alive, that won’t be possible.”
“Why can’t you walk away like Kolson did? Start your own company?”
He shakes his head and then mumbles, “So naïve.” Then he says louder, “It doesn’t work that way with him. I walk and I die. He’d find a way.”
I press on. “Can’t you go to the authorities?”
“Authorities? My dad owns the authorities,” he says resentfully.
“Not all of them. The FBI wants him.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I stop here. My better judgment overrules my desire to help him. As much as I want to and as much as I know he wants to leave, there is that warped tie he has to Langston. I’ve said too much already. Instead of talk, I lace my fingers with his.
“If you ever decide to leave, you can come to me. I’ll do anything to help you.”
His eyelids close and he drops his head forward. The internal battle that wages within him is loud. I question whether I’m being fair to this man who’s been through so much. But I quash that thought because I know I’d do anything, anything at all, to get Kolson back.
The waiter comes to take our order. I can’t eat anything now, so I order coffee. Kestrel does the same.
“What did he do after he came back to the house? After he killed Storm?”
“He locked himself in his office. I left the house because I was so disgusted.”
“Where did you go?”
He raises his brows. “Gabby, you really want to know?”
My cheeks heat. It’s obvious what he did.
“No. I didn’t mean to pry.”
His lips curl. “It’s not like I don’t have any kind of life away from my father, you know.”
“So tell me exactly why you wanted to see me.”
“To apologize.”
“No, that’s not it. You could’ve done that over the phone.”
He glances away, and I get the impression he’s suddenly nervous.
“Did Langston put you up to this?”
“No. But he knows I’m here.”
“I figured as much.”
His jade green orbs nail me again. But this time, anger darkens them. “Not for the reasons you think.”
“Enlighten me, then.” I try to pull my hand away, but he tightens his hold. His lids squeeze shut briefly, then he pins me again.
“You’re being watched. Even now. Every move you make, from the moment you leave your building to the time you return. Your cars are being followed. They know exactly where you go.”
“Did you have something to do with that little black thing Lydia found on the entrance table in the penthouse?”
“Yes. He made me do it.”
“Kestrel, is he listening to us now?”
“No. Because he didn’t know I had planned on meeting you. Well, that’s not exactly true. He didn’t know but he does by now, because the men watching you will have called him.”
“What will you tell him?”
“That I wanted to let you know how sorry I was about Storm. He’ll buy it because he knows I’m close to Kol. And he knows I cared about that horse too. We all grew up in the stable, riding. He’s a fucking asshole, Gabby.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“I know. And you shouldn’t. Ever.”
Whoa.
“You confuse the hell out of me.”
“I know that too. Why do you think my back is to the door? I don’t want them to see what I tell you.”
“So,” I bend my head when I say this, “if what you say is true, then everywhere I go, they report back to your father. Correct?”
“Yes. Everywhere. For instance, he knows you went to NA with your friend Case. He knows you met him in Gramercy Park. He knows everything, Gabby. I’m telling you to watch your back. If Kolson is around and you’re meeting him, stop because you will lead my father directly to him.”
“I’m not meeting Kolson and I don’t know where he is. You can tell your dad that.”
A rueful smile appears on his face. “I’m not meeting you to convey anything to my dad. I’m sincere in wanting you to know how sorry I am over my father’s reprehensible actions.”
“That word doesn’t come close. He’s sick, Kestrel.”
“How much do you know?”
“About what?”
“Him? The dragon?”
“I’m not following.”
“Kolson never told you, did he?”
“No.”
“There’s a reason we call him the dragon. He is a monster of the worst kind.”
I’m angry now. So angry. I’m tired of hearing how horrible this man is. All the evidence points to that, but no one will tell me what he’s done.
“I’m sick to death of hearing about this dragon crap! Tell me what he did. Kolson would never speak of it.”
He’s torn. And my harsh tone has done nothing to open him up. I fear I’ve only thickened the wall between us.
The waiter interrupts us to refill our coffee cups. When he leave
s, the silence is tangible. They say the first one to speak always loses. I guess I’m the loser because I’m tired of waiting.
“I know it’s useless. I always felt helpless with Kolson when it came to Langston and I feel it with you.” My voice sounds heavy. These past weeks have taken a toll.
“It’s hard to discuss something when you can hardly stand to think of it. Does that make sense?”
“Kestrel, you’re talking to someone who was molested, repeatedly, by her cousin while her parents stood by and did nothing to stop it. Of course it makes sense. I lived that life. Until Kolson.” My tone is irritated and resentful.
“But that’s different.”
“People in glass houses …”
“I know. Do you know he bought us? All of us? He made it look like he adopted us, but that’s not how it went. He would find women in his casinos who had racked up too much debt to pay off and then he would research them. Find ones with young kids. Trade the kids to wipe out their debt. He wanted three sons to carry on his dynasty. He stole us from our mothers. Then he tried to brainwash us. We were little boys.”
His voice is quiet, monotonous, and if I hadn’t been tuned in, I might have missed half of what he told me. I can’t disguise the shock and disgust I feel.
“Jesus.”
“That was only the beginning. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Maybe later.”
“Oh God. All of you?”
He nods, but only slightly.
“I need to get out of here. If I stay too long, those guys out there will wonder what we talked about. Gabby, I’m not trying to hurt you. I just wanted you to know I’m sorry.”
He puts several bills on the table and walks out. I reel with what he’s revealed to me. I’m angry, sad, sick, pained, confused, conflicted … there are so many emotions washing through me, I can’t move. I need to collect myself because when I walk out, those men need to think I’m fine and that Kestrel and I had a nice visit. I suddenly feel very protective of him. Holy shit. What kind of mindfuck is Langston Hart?
Pull it together, Gabby. Stop thinking about this. You need to walk out of here like your normal self.
I paw through my bag in search of my phone and hop online. Recipes always distract me so I go to Pinterest. When I’m levelheaded enough to leave, I walk out the door where Axel is waiting for me. I fiddle with my phone, trying to look busy. I decide I can’t go back to work. My concentration is zapped, so I go home. When I get there, I text Case. I need to talk to someone. He answers right away and then calls me. He lends a sympathetic ear as I dump everything on him.