RAGE (The Rage Series Book 2) (4 page)

              First and foremost, there was the man's paperwork for the single year he'd worked for the company. He'd been even more masterful than his son when it came to designs. He’d submitted over thirty projects to be approved. Currently, Mathers circulated about sixty percent of them.

There was an entire file delegated to patents that had first been applied for by the individual man, blocked, and then registered to Mathers Incorporated. As Charlotte read on, her heart grew heavier and heavier. There were records of the man's termination, citing confrontation with company policies when it was obvious that he'd just wanted to be recognized for his own work.

              Then, there were the black list letters—at least fifty of them. There were drafts of letters to other companies, threatening them or bribing them not to hire Lester Marscomb. They spoke of his treachery and the shortcomings of his character, threatening to drive any local company who hired him into the ground with the patents that Mathers currently held. It seemed that the man was denied employment from every subsequent job, simply because of these letters. There were even some documents from companies—then smaller fish and today at the top of their game—begging Mathers to let them hire the man. Those companies were turned down flat and threatened.

              When, finally, Charlotte came to the personal files of the blacklisted man, tears began to drip down her cheeks. There were pictures of him, his wife, and his son—a much younger David. They looked ecstatically happy during the year that he was employed. Then, there was a censored image of the man found in his bathtub, headlining a news article.

             
Brooklyn Man Found Dead in Bathroom: Victim of Tragic Suicide
.

              The rest of the information followed a growing David. It seemed that he had worked his entire life to support his family. Ever since Lester had been fired, they'd been close to destitute. He had worked his way through both high school and college, bolstered by his own brilliance. He had labored for years in white collar companies that had kept him on long enough to steal his patents. In return, those companies sold the patents to Mathers for millions of dollars.

The depth of the corruption made Charlotte sick to her stomach. By the time she'd reached present day, complete with David's mother's psychiatric and medical reports detailing deep depression and psychosis, she'd had enough.

              Her father had lied. There was no doubt about that. It hadn't been Lester Marscomb who had stolen the patents. Rather, it was the other way around. The reason her father had never been tech savvy was because he'd never designed anything before. As far as the claim that David was her brother—Charlotte still wasn't so sure.

              Among the files, she'd found several disturbing pictures of Lester’s wife. There was no doubt that she and Charlotte's father had an affair. However, it was unclear how deep the connection had gone. There was a very real possibility, Charlotte mused, that David was her half-brother; but, now that she'd discovered the depths of her father's lies, she didn't know what to think anymore.

              As Charlotte logged out of the computer, she stood and wiped her eyes of the moisture that had filled them. She had to speak with David—the sooner, the better.

              She had to know the truth.

              So
this
was what jail was like

              In all his contemplations, over all the years that he'd planned on taking Mathers Incorporated down, David had never once imagined he'd end up here. Thankfully, he hadn't yet been transferred to a penitentiary, but he had no doubt it would be coming soon. He'd felt Mathers' jaw crack, as his fist had connected with it.
Christ
,
it had felt good. All those years of pent up anger, resentment, and absolute hatred poured out of him.

              The man deserved death, as far as he was concerned, but David wasn't a killer. Not that he wasn't tempted—the way the man had swooped in and ruined absolutely everything. He'd had Charlotte in the palm of his hand. She'd loved him. She'd trusted him. Now, she was busy building a lawsuit against him.

              Surprisingly, David found this crushing in more than a platonic way. Yes, his plan had been foiled. Yes, he had been discovered far before he had reached his goal. However, the most devastating thing of all was the fact that he had lost the confidence of a woman he respected, and perhaps even had deeper feelings for.

              He'd lost everything.

              As he sat in the bare cell, with its single cot and open toilet, he started thinking. He thought more than he had in years—even more than he had while fervently planning the downfall of Mathers Incorporated.

              How did he feel about Charlotte?

              Not that it mattered. He would probably never see the woman again, unless it was at court. Then, she would host such hatred for him that it would be close to impossible to remember the intimate times they'd had.

              She'd been beautiful. Against all odds and in spite of her parentage, she'd been beautiful, kind, generous, and amazing. Though he'd grown up under the impression that she was a carbon copy of the father who had raised her, he'd been wrong. It had actually been shocking, how deeply her father had wronged her in his quest to put his company on the map as one of the top tech firms in the world. Truly, Charlotte barely knew her father.

              However, they were apparently close enough for her father to make accusations right in front of her, Adeline, and anyone else that counted. They were probably inspecting his creations with a fine-toothed comb as he contemplated, searching for any evidence of sabotage. If they looked hard enough, they would find it, and he would be done. He was facing years of jail time, total humiliation, and the utter dissolution of his family.

Luckily, he'd been able to call the hastily hired nurse to tell her he would be home late. Yet, what about the following day? His mother would have no one to care for her if he didn't call the woman back in, and he was only allowed a single phone call.

              Along with his mother's helplessness, he had his own to consider. He had no close friends or other family who he thought would bail him out. In short, he was stuck behind bars until his court date with Mathers arrived.

              The prospect made him ill. His life had been transformed into a veritable dung heap by that family. Now, he was under their thumb again.

              Pathetic.

              He should have been more careful.

              He should have been more vigilant when it came to his developing feelings for Charlotte. When it came to his feelings for her, he'd let things get totally and completely out of hand. He should have used the material he'd had on her the moment he'd found it and damn his bleeding heart.

              Somehow, he just hadn't wanted to hurt her.

              She was different from her father. However, it appeared that
feelings
wouldn't keep her from pressing charges. According to the man that had arrested him, he was awaiting a list of pending charges from the company that included fraud, embezzlement, incest, and a whole range of other matters. Apparently, the charges were at least a page and a half long.

              If Charlotte and Emerson Mathers got their way, he would never see the sun again. His father would be restless in his grave, having never found peace, and his mother? God knows what would happen to her. No doubt she would be shuffled from institution to institution until they placed her in the one looney bin secure enough to handle her for life.

              For David, this was one of the most horrible things that he could contemplate—not only because he loved his mother and had been waiting his entire life for her recovery—but also because he had a plethora of new questions for her. For years, the woman had spoke precious few words, but when David thought of the accusations Mathers had made in Charlotte's office, he wanted answers.

             
Had
his mother had an affair with Emerson? He looked nothing like the man; but, doubt was in the back of his mind, lingering. He couldn't believe his beloved mother would have betrayed his father like that—and while he was in the midst of trying to find a new job to support them to boot. How could she have even contemplated something so crude?

              The man had to be lying.

              He'd simply tossed the statement out there with no blood or paternity tests to prove it. Unfortunately, locked up as he was, David would probably never gain the right to demand such things from the man. Emerson Mathers had come up with the perfect excuse to lock him away for the foreseeable future.

              Groaning at the fruitlessness of his situation, David collapsed on the hard cot that had been provided for him as a bed. It was far too short to fit his tall frame. In addition, it was as hard as a rock. It was a bed not meant for any moral man.

              But, had he, in his quest for revenge, abandoned his morality?

              David had been held in the precinct for three full days. In that time, he had ample opportunity to think about his morality.

              He'd spent his entire life plotting to bring down a company built on greed and corruption. Was that so wrong of him? He'd never considered himself a horrible or selfish person, but the fact remained that he'd barely considered the effect he'd have on the hundreds of people who worked for the company. They'd be without jobs and without sources of income—even though it wouldn't be their fault that their employer was a black-hearted bastard.

              Indeed, that wasn't even the case now.

              Over the past decade, Charlotte had taken the reins of the company. She was as unlike her father as it was possible to be, assuming that the two were of the same flesh and blood.

              The flesh and blood that he quite possibly shared.

              The thought brought him close to gagging. There was far too much of a possibility that he had bedded his own sister. He was sure Emerson had used it as a point to further criticize his lack of morality. However, the truth was if the man's assertions were indeed
true
, David hadn't known he had a half-sister any more than Charlotte had known she had a brother.

              His mother had never mentioned that he had any other father but Lester. Regrettably, Emerson Mathers had David questioning even her, and she was so mentally unstable that she could barely feed herself or move around the house.

              Christ, what an asshole.

              Here he was, imprisoned. Plus, it was quite possible that his mom would be put away in an institution for life. In the meantime,  Mathers was probably laughing his way to the bank. Certainly, David had sabotaged all the projects he'd worked on for the firm, but it would be child's play to do away with the fail-safes and the cameras and simply market the products under new patents.

              Undoubtedly, Mathers Incorporated was a pro at pulling off something like that by this juncture.

              He'd fucked up.

              He'd royally fucked up.

              He was facing indefinite jail time and an utterly ruined reputation. What was he to do?

              Strangely enough, the young man found his thoughts drifting back to Charlotte and the time they'd spent together. While, in the beginning, he'd promised himself that he'd allow himself only to become physically intimate with her—and nothing more—his feelings had rapidly multiplied. How could he have avoided it?

              Charlotte was the complete antithesis of her father, which made it easy for him to envision a future with her. Though he'd known the entire time that the projection he was building was a ruse, David had imagined himself staying with her for years—perhaps eventually proposing and marrying the daughter of his sworn enemy.

              The irony would be crippling, but Charlotte deserved no less. Even someone as jaded as he could realize that.

              And now he'd utterly destroyed it.

              The thoughts that ran through his head at least five or six times a day were enough to demoralize him to the point where he simply paced the room, arguing with himself about his own nature.

              During a particularly intense self-berating session, a guard beyond the bars of his cell announced that he had a visitor. David wondered who it was for the few scant moments it took the guard to remove him from his cell and maneuver him to the visitation room. The moment he entered the cement-walled space, his eyes widened as he caught the gaze of the only occupant present.

              Marshall.

              Marshall sat at the opposite end of the table, his expression grim. “Shit, man,” he said, making David wince. “I knew something had to be up when that nurse didn't know where you were.”

              Christ, Marshall was still babysitting him like he was a teenager. While David was glad to see a familiar face, the embarrassment that he was in cuffs far outweighed any pleasure he felt. What must Marshall think of him?