Truth (Scandals of Banner-Hill Book 1) Page 22

  I’ve lived my life surrounded by corruption and chaos. Raised by selfish people with cruel demands. I’ve looked evil in the eye so many times that all the faces start to blend together. But Lynne, Lynne is all that’s left that is good.

  I want so bad to reach out and take some of that light for myself. But I decide to protect her from me instead.

  I step out of Lynne’s office and freeze.

  “Murphy?” He’s the last person I expected to see here.

  He looks furious, his face set in a scowl. I pull the door closed behind me so Lynne won’t get curious and come out. I only just discovered she’s something worth protecting. I want her out of Murphy’s sight as much as possible. He doesn’t seem to care anyway.

  “Come with me,” he growls, taking off and leaving me to fall into step beside him.

  We walk in silence down the hall, and I can’t help but notice the staff seem to be looking the other way. I wonder how Murphy’s reach compares to my father’s. Or rather, what my father’s was.

  We turn down the hallway I hate most, moving straight toward Banner’s office.

  Murphy grabs me when I try to stop. His tight grip on my upper arm is the only thing propelling me forward as I try to dig my heels in. This office has become what all my nightmares are made of.

  My head swivels to take stock as Murphy drags me inside Banner’s office. There’s a muscled man just inside the door sporting some blatant teardrop tattoos. He looks bizarre next to my uncle in his designer suit. The brains and brawn combo is an odd one.

  The muscle steps aside, revealing a very tied-up Jack Lunsford in the center of the office. The guy closes the office door as Murphy strolls toward Banner’s desk and picks up a baseball bat. Jack flinches even though no one has moved in his direction yet.

  “What is this?” I plant my hands on my hips and dig my fingers into my sides to try to help me contain my anger. I don’t like this bullshit showing off. It’s too fucking risky and completely unnecessary. “This isn’t how I want to do things.”

  Murphy blows out a laugh, a cruel smile twisting across his lips.

  “If you didn’t want my involvement, you should have went to your little girl gang for help instead of spouting off to me. No one disrespects you without answering to me, Natalie.”

  I glance toward the door and consider a quick escape, but the muscle is blocking it, arms crossed over his chest in an obvious indication that I’m not going anywhere until Murphy says so. I’m pretty fucking sure the only reason he wants me here watching this is to groom me to accept the violence. Otherwise, his point could have been made with a picture afterward or something.

  I’m not getting out of this anymore than Jack is.

  “I’d appreciate being afforded the courtesy to have some say, but I’m certainly not going to argue for mercy in this situation. Can I sit?” My voice stays steady by some miracle as I take a seat in one of the office chairs before my trembling legs give me away.

  This whole thing makes me anxious, but the best thing I can do to protect myself is prove to Murphy I can handle something like this. I have no intention of actually needing that skill, but I don’t want him getting any ideas about my disinterest in family affairs.

  Right now, he clearly thinks I can still be persuaded. I think it’s the only thing keeping me safe from him at the moment.

  “Great, so let’s quit wasting time, huh? I only have this office for tonight. My contact thinks Banner will be back in the morning.” Murphy spins the bat around in his hand as he stalks toward Jack.

  Funny how such simple words can reveal so much.

  Murphy isn’t working with Banner, otherwise he wouldn’t have needed a contact to confirm his schedule. It also means that there’s a good chance Murphy doesn’t know about the camera. I resist the urge to glance toward the clock hanging over the desk.

  There is one problem with Banner returning—I’m sure he’s only coming back because he’s worried about what it means now that my father’s protection is gone.

  I’m not sure who Banner will answer to now. I still need to figure out who my father was really connected to.

  But one problem at a time.

  “How much do you know about our friend here?” Murphy asks.

  “The trust fund baby or the murderous body builder?” I rest my elbow on the armrest and my chin on my hand. I’m pretty sure I’m doing a piss poor job of acting interested because Murphy scowls at me.

  “I always forget what a mouth you’ve got on you.” He points at me with the baseball bat and grins. “But yeah, I’m talking about the trust fund baby here. Only, Daddy Lunsford has gambled away the family fortune on ponies and cards. Isn’t that right, Junior?”

  I look at Jack and note how secure he is. A rag is stuffed in his mouth and held there with duct tape. There’s generic rope tying him tightly to the chair. He tries to speak, but there’s nothing but mumbling coming from behind the tape.

  “So Junior comes knocking on my door for a job. Perfect timing. I get someone to make sure no one is bothering you in here, and Junior gets enough money in the bank to spend another year pretending he’s still a big baller. Right kid?”

  Jack nods miserably. Whatever happened before I got here, it’s left Jack surprisingly amenable to Murphy’s little game.

  “I get the picture, Murph. You hired Jack to do a job, and he tried to cross us. So what exactly are you planning to do?” I ask. “Bore him to death?” I swear my uncle just loves the sound of his own voice.

  Murphy tilts his head toward me to show off a toothy, manic grin. “I was actually planning to do this.” He raises the bat and swings without even looking where he’s aiming.

  Jack’s scream is muffled through the rag.

  The sound still turns my stomach.

  I force my gaze to stay steady. I don’t dare look away even as his leg twists unnaturally. One hit and Murphy managed to shatter something. Something not entirely reparable, if I had to guess. I’m sure that wasn’t an accident.

  Now there’s something else I can add to the list of things Murphy has revealed to me. He can wreck a person’s life without ever looking them in the eyes.

  “What do you think? Is a permanent limp punishment enough?” Murphy swings the bat again. There’s a solid cracking sound as the bat hits him square in the chest. “Broken ribs are just too temporary if you ask me.”

  Murphy takes a stroll across the office, whistling as he swings the bat back and forth. Jack’s eyes bulge as they follow my uncle’s every move.

  “Killing him is always an option,” Murphy says conversationally. Jack does his best to whimper out a pathetic sound. “No, you’re right. Got to leave him talking, that way he can warn off anyone else who gets the bright idea to fuck with the family.”

  Murphy laughs, but this time he looks right at Jack. I can’t see his eyes anymore, but from the terror in Jack’s eyes, I know there isn’t anything human left in my uncle.

  “I’ve got it. Kind of an ‘eye for an eye’ arrangement. That seems fitting. Except, you know, instead of an eye…” He swings the bat a third time, this time coming down hard between Jack’s legs. If I thought the other sounds were inhuman, it’s nothing compared to the way he squeals like a pig as he crumples in the chair. Only the ties keep him upright—and just barely.

  I feel nothing as I watch Jack suffer unimaginable pain.

  I can’t even tell if it’s because I think he deserves it or if I’m just too desensitized to care anymore. My night in Dash’s room unequivocally changed something in me.

  “Now that that’s been handled…” Murphy tosses the bat across the room to the muscle. The guy snatches it out of the air like it’s nothing. “What’s your status here? Has everything been handled? The sooner we can get you home, the better for the optics. There’s already talk about Anita planning your father’s funeral services. Though I’m sure she’s liable to have a change of heart when she realizes your father’s will still leaves everything to his wife
.”

  Murphy snorts like it’s hilarious, but I don’t find it amusing. I wish my mother wasn’t getting a dime. Anita might be a gold-digger, but at least she makes no excuses for what she is. Besides that, she’s got a daughter to take care of.

  I doubt Anita has any idea how to support herself. She’ll have to be on the hunt for a new man as soon as possible if my father really left her nothing.

  Madison is not my problem. I always have a hard time remembering that.

  As desperate as I am to get out of here, I can’t leave with Murphy today. There are a few more things I need to clear up.

  “Soon,” I tell him. I’m getting too close to the anniversary of Dash’s death. I definitely have to be out of here by then. “There’s just a couple things I’m wrapping up.”

  Murphy doesn’t seem to like that answer very much, but he doesn’t argue. He does, however, glance quickly at his buddy before looking away again. I have a feeling he might be playing it nicer than he’d like because he doesn’t want an audience to see any defiance against him.

  That actually works in my favor, too. The closer his people think we are, the less likely they are to fuck with me at the moment.

  I need that ruse to stick until I have a more solid plan.

  “Alright. We’re heading out. I’ll check in with you soon.” Murphy hands me a burner phone of my very own. Lucky me. He grins as he adds one last thing, “Consider this a reward for taking care of your father. Our prospects are looking very good with him out of the way.”

  The only response I offer him is a slight nod that makes his grin widen. He really does seem to think we’re growing closer through all of this.

  I stay seated while the muscle tosses Jack—chair and all—over his shoulder and leaves the office. I have no idea how the fuck they’re getting him out of here without raising serious red flags. Another thing I’m better off not asking questions about, I’m sure.

  Murphy salutes me goodbye before following his pal out. I wait several minutes to make sure they’re really gone before I drop to my knees in front of the bookcase and frantically let myself into my father’s safe. Everything is just as I left it the last time.

  I pull the tape out of the deck and drop it in my pocket. Now that my father is otherwise occupied, I’m less concerned about being careful. But I will hold on to this most recent tape for safe keeping.

  20

  Sascha Hill’s schedule isn’t nearly as simple to track down as Banner’s was. But there’s really nothing a little breaking and entering can’t solve.

  Two days after Murphy’s unannounced visit, I’m sitting in Sascha’s desk chair when he comes strolling in mid-day. He pulls the door behind him, not missing a beat. If there’s one thing the enigmatic Sascha Hill is known for, it’s being unflappable.

  I’m about to test that reputation.

  Sascha takes a seat in one of the guest chairs, his lips twitching slightly at the corners as he glances at my feet resting on top of his desk. What can I say? Waiting for someone in an ill-furnished office isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

  It’s funny. Sascha owns just as much stake in the Banner-Hill brand as Kevin Banner does. So why does Banner’s office look lived in but Sascha’s looks barely touched?

  I’ve added it to my list of many things that don’t add up about the man.

  “I’m surprised to see you back here again.” The humor drops from his face. “I hope your visit has given you some closure. I know I’ve never forgotten your friend. That kind of tragedy is just unfathomable, even now.”

  “Is it?” I raise an eyebrow.

  I have no idea how much he knows. There are two things I’ve taken into consideration. If my newest theory is correct, Sascha probably isn’t worrying himself with the day-to-day stuff at Banner-Hill. But it also means nothing should be getting by him.

  That means this can go either way.

  I lean forward and set a sole tape on the center of the desk. Sascha glances from it to me. There’s no sign of recognition, but I wait for him to say something.

  “Is this supposed to be for me?” He leans forward and takes it, reading the label. His eyes narrow for a moment before he smoothes his features back to normal. “What is this?”

  “That, Mr. Hill, is a video of your business partner fucking an underage patient after the two of them did Ketamine together.” I lean forward on my elbows on his desk. “Feel free to do what you will with that information. I made sure to keep a copy.”

  Nick made sure the original tape made it into a safety deposit box with both our names on it. As soon as I’m out of here, I’ll collect it myself and move it again.

  I’ll happily let that tape be used to bury Banner, but I won’t have Dash be made a spectacle of when he’s not alive to defend himself.

  Sascha puts a fist to his mouth and clears his throat. He can’t hide the horror in his eyes now. Whatever he thought I was coming here for, it wasn’t this. Sascha knows I know something. If it’s not about Banner, it has to be about the money. And if Sascha, who screams power more than my father ever has, knows about the money, it has to be because the money is his.

  This is as close as I can get to confirming two theories at once.

  Kevin Banner was always intended to be a scapegoat.

  And my father has been working for Sascha Hill.

  I thought it was strange that both Sascha and Banner would be out of town at the same time. Someone needed to be here to play the boss.

  Before Banner saw me and went running out again, he’d been gone for a week. Yet, Sascha’s calendar showed a last-minute trip of his own came up the same night my story with Rodney leaked.

  I don’t believe in coincidences anymore. The only reason Sascha would leave at the same time I was coming was if he was trying to avoid crossing paths with my father.

  Two people doing that kind of business together would be careful never to be seen together.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Sascha says, his mouth forming a tight line as he meets my gaze across the desk. There’s nothing to suggest he’s being anything but honest, but only time will tell.

  I check the time on his computer. I’m cutting it close.

  “I know you’ve probably got work to do, so I’ll get right to the point. This is definitely a quid pro quo situation.” I gesture to the tape still clutched in his hand. “I could very easily have given that to the media instead. Imagine the questions that would bring.”

  Sascha shakes his head with a laugh.

  “I can appreciate a negotiation with a smart woman.” His voice is smooth like liquid gold. If he thinks that’s going to have any effect on me, he’s sorely mistaken. “What exactly is it you need, Miss Adams?”

  “I’d like you to make good on your arrangement with Nick Barnes.”

  “I don’t—“

  I interrupt him to keep talking, “Take care of his lease, and I might be convinced to throw in a bonus for you. I just happened to have come into a lot of money recently. And I didn’t even need to be named in my father’s will to get it.”

  He studies me with shrewd eyes. How embarrassing it must be to be outmaneuvered by someone he never even saw coming.

  “I get it. I’m easy to underestimate because I’m young and blonde and plastered all over the gossip magazines.”

  “I wouldn’t dare underestimate you.” Sascha stands and outstretches a hand to me. “And I look forward to doing business with you again.”

  I take his hand tentatively. Once again, here’s a man just assuming I’ll fall into line with whatever nefarious bullshit he’s into. At least this time, I can make sure I get something out of it myself. Getting Sascha that money—he’s going to owe me more than one.

  “See you around, Sascha,” I tell him as I go.

  I actually have no idea where the hell Sascha goes when he’s not here. But as long as the name Hill is on the sign in front of this building, at least I can count on this being his home base.


  Nick is headed my way as I’m headed out. He turns to walk backward as we pass each other—a clear question in his eyes.

  I tilt my chin up to him.

  The only goodbye I can bear.

  I am about to do a very stupid thing.

  Confirming the connection between Sascha and my father helped clear a path for me on the outside. Because I know figuring out what my father was doing will tell me exactly what Murphy plans to do moving forward.

  He made it clear he thinks my father stole from him, which means he’s going to be working hard to build—or take—back what was his.

  I pack away almost everything in my suitcase.

  Then I slip into the red lingerie that Murphy sent. I never had any intention of wearing it. But the part of me that’s desperate to pull one over on him thought of a better plan. The only thing he’d hate more than this lingerie going to waste would be me wearing it for someone else.

  The only dress I brought with me is a simple black thing that’s too boxy to be sexy. I pull it on over the lingerie anyway. It doesn’t really matter what I’m wearing, the dress is just for ease of access.

  Satisfied that everything is packed up and ready for me, I leave my room and knock on the door next to mine.

  After about thirty seconds, I’m almost ready to just barge right in. Then the door flings open and a shirtless Killian greets me. The dark circles under his eyes make my head reel back. I start to ask if he’s okay until he leans against the doorframe so his face is too close to mine.

  “Detox is a bitch,” he mutters.

  “You’re welcome,” I tell him. The best gift he could get was me forcing him to get sober.

  “Whatever. What do you want?”

  I see detox has made him particularly grumpy today. And I’m about to make it worse.

  “Do you know where Logan is?” I ask, careful to keep my voice neutral.

  His face twists angrily. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Fine, forget I asked. I’ll go find him myself.” I shrug like it’s no big deal because I already know that’s not going to go over well.