Ultimate Sins (32 page)

“Give us three hours and we'll be there. If not sooner,” he promised. “Are you going to tell Crowe before we arrive?”

“Would he believe it without seeing it?” she asked.

He sighed heavily. “Hell, I didn't believe it until I saw you,” he admitted.

She nodded slowly then asked the question she knew would torment her if she left it unasked. “Did you hear the rumor that Crowe killed Stoner?”

Her father and his team collected rumors, favors, and other related information with surprising regularity. She had always wanted to ask if he'd heard any rumors regarding Crowe, and hadn't had the nerve.

She could hear the curse her uncle, Jack Roberts, bit off.

“I heard a very faint rumor,” he admitted. “A body that was disposed of through military means by a black ops member resembling Crowe. I guess that's what happened?”

“A rumor,” she verified.

“You okay?” he asked.

Her chest clenched, pain knifing her senses at the realization that there was so much more to Crowe than she had ever known. She knew the man he was with her, but without her he'd been cold, silent, a military machine that did the government's dirty work without pause to protect those he loved from the government's enemies.

“I'm fine,” she promised. “I'll be better, perhaps, once you get here.”

“We're on our way then,” he repeated. “Leave the lights on, baby girl, we'll be there soon.”

Leave the lights on.

She disconnected the call and walked slowly to John as he turned back to her. The fondness in his expression was something she hated to lose.

“Tell me, John, would you have liked me much if you hadn't thought I was your sister?” she asked him, keeping her voice low.

He smiled at that, leaned close, and whispered, “I have a feeling we both know—”

Tears filled her eyes again as he stared into her eyes.

“I wish you were.” Her voice broke on a sob. “You would have made an incredible brother.”

“Are we telling anyone yet?” He grinned at the conspiracy they'd both believed no one else knew about.

“Just for now, for a few more hours, will you be my brother?”

He nodded slowly, opened his arms, and drew her into his embrace. “Then come here, baby sister, let me give you a hug. I have a feeling once Crowe finds out, the hugs will be over.”

Would he be jealous? Not jealous, she thought. He was too confident for jealousy. No, Crowe would be territorial. There was a difference. Jealous implied the belief that he somehow might not be able to hold her. Territorial didn't just imply that something belonged to him, it verified it.

John's hug was filled with fondness and affection. Just as she had always thought a brother's hug would be.

“Okay, little rebel, let's see what you've got.” He grinned as she pulled back. “And let's see if I'm right about the secret you've been hiding for seven years.”

Her gaze narrowed on him. “How do you know there's a secret?”

His lips twitched. “Crowe's had his uncle investigating why you disappeared for four months before starting college, and where you go every couple of months that had Wayne so pissed off that he actually called the state police several times to try to track you down. We haven't found proof of anything yet, though,” he admitted. “We just have our suspicions.”

“And your suspicions?” she asked, terrified that somehow Wayne had his suspicions as well.

“Wayne had no clue, sis,” he promised, evidently reading the concern on her face. “He thought you were seeing Crowe for a while until he tracked Crowe down several times while you were gone. He was certain you had a lover, but had no idea who and decided to wait and see.”

“There was no lover.” She shook her head, stepping back from him and glancing to the stairs. “I lost my heart before that, John. I couldn't bear the thought of it.”

He nodded somberly. “Yeah, you have that way about you. All loyalty and dedication.”

She had to grin at the forced patience of his tone. “Let's just hope it pays off.”

Reaching out, he pushed back the hair that had fallen over the curve of her cheek, tucking it behind her ear as though he wanted to see more of her face.

“If it doesn't,” he told her, “then he's a raging fool and deserves to be shot for his stupidity alone.”

Not shot, but kicked perhaps, she thought as she moved away from the man she wished could have been her brother, if he'd had another father, and headed up the stairs.

Watching her walk away, John crossed his arms over his chest before wiping a hand down his face and staring toward the ceiling, praying God was listening to prayers that night. Because he knew it would take a miracle to save them both.

 

CHAPTER 19

Amelia was silent as both Crowe and John escorted her into Archer's office that evening, along with six security agents.

She'd deliberately dressed in old jeans, a sweatshirt, and hiking boots. The jacket she wore was denim lined with fleece, and she'd left her leather gloves in the SUV.

Archer sat silently at his desk, Anna behind him as they entered the large room and the goon squad stepped back to allow her to face them.

She'd known Archer all her life. He was a friend; once she'd almost made him her confidant before drawing back out of fear of jeopardizing his standing in the community should Wayne ever learn the other man knew his true nature.

Archer's gaze moved to Crowe coolly before settling on her once again. Giving a heavy sigh he rose slowly to his feet, his gaze compassionate.

“How are we doing this, Amelia?” he asked her.

He asked her, not Crowe, and his voice as well as his expression let everyone know it was her decision this time.

“Just the two of us, Archer,” she informed him.

“Dammit it, Amelia,” Crowe growled warningly. “Don't do this…”

“You can watch the monitors, Crowe.” Archer hit a key at the computer, bringing the six wall-mounted monitors alive on the wall next to his desk. Next, he turned on the speaker next to them. “Audio included.”

“Amelia,” Crowe's voice was lower now, darker. “At least let me go in with you.”

She shook her head slowly, not daring to look at him as she moved her gaze to her friend.

Anna knew her history with the Carter brothers, and Amelia knew she understood why this had to be done. Still, she'd warned Amelia that Crowe's anger could cause him to strike out at the boys himself.

It was a chance she had to take. Amelia prayed the man that once existed would see what she saw in the brothers' sobriety, and if he didn't, then she would have to deal with it when the time came.

“Let's go then.” Archer moved around the desk to the security door on the other side of the room. “John, you have security.”

Her brother moved into place behind the desk opposite Archer's where the doors' locks and the cells' security features were controlled.

The snick of the main lock seconds later indicated the door was unlocked.

Pulling it open Archer stepped inside before looking back at her. Amelia moved past him slowly, her hands pushed into the pockets of her jacket as the main door closed and locked behind them.

It took a minute to get into the main detention area. Eight cells, four to each wall were contained in the jail. At the end of the hall the Carter brothers were in one cell together for this meeting.

Amelia moved to the front of the iron bars, staring at the three men somberly as they stared back at her, their expressions heavy and filled with repentance.

The oldest brother, David, sat forward on the cot slowly, his face drawn, his gaze filled with self-disgust and sorrow.

It was the youngest, Dillion, sitting on the floor, his back against the cement wall, who spoke first though.

“I wouldn't hurt you, Amelia.” His voice was scratchy and hoarse. “I couldn't hurt you. You know that.”

“We're real sorry, Amelia,” Dwight whispered tearfully as he sat at the other end of the cot from David. “You know, all the years we've been drunk and said things to you, we've never hurt you.”

Amelia glanced away from them for long moments, fighting the tears that wanted to fill her eyes and the guilt that had followed her for so many years. But, when she turned back to them, her eyes were dry, her expression firm.

“That day in school,” she cleared her throat before going on. “When I called Dwight out for cheating off me, I didn't mean to say it so loudly. I really didn't mean to say anything at all,” she told them firmly. “I had just buried my mother the day before. That same night, Wayne locked me in a small, dark cellar in the basement for crying.”

She had to breathe for a moment to continue as each man watched her closely, their expressions tightening painfully. “Each time,” she continued, “that I ensured the three of you were shielded from whatever harm Wayne meant to you, I was punished by him. What he did to your aunt, he should die for. What he did to everyone he struck against, he should be punished in the same manner for.” She straightened her shoulders then, forcing herself to harden, her gaze to meet each of the Carter brothers' in resolution. “But I will never again be punished for what he's done, especially by the three of you. The next time you take that first drink, think about that. Because the next time you attack me, pretend to attack me, or insult me in the ways you have in the past, I will press charges against each and every one of you. Are we clear?”

Dwight and Dillion nodded slowly, a tear easing from their eyes before their heads lowered, regret and years of pain reflected in their eyes.

“Amelia.” David drew her attention then, his voice filled with sorrow. “You should have had us jailed years ago. We didn't deserve your mercy then, or now.” He seemed to sit taller though, his gaze meeting hers with a determination she had never seen in it before. “What happened outside the bar was inexcusable. It was unforgivable. But, for Dwight and Dillion's sakes, I'm grateful, and I swear to you, it will never happen again.” He swallowed tightly then. “For myself, all I can say is that if I ever take another drink, if I ever allow myself to lose my senses in such a way again, then I hope you do press charges. Because we've always known, sober, what a good woman you are. And drunk, we always knew that compassion in you understood our hurt and anger. But you didn't deserve to be the focus of that. And I'm sorry.”

Amelia nodded slowly. “I hope you mean that, David.” She looked at his brothers for a second. “And I hope all of you manage to find a way to put the past behind you. That's all any of us can do at this point, until Wayne's caught, or proven dead. Your rage is at him. If you need an outlet for it, focus on him, not on me. Because I will never allow it again.”

She didn't give them a chance to say anything more.

“Archer.” Turning to the other man she met his gaze and saw the understanding in it. “I won't be pressing charges against them. What happened was a misunderstanding, nothing more.”

“I understand,” he said softly. “I'll take care of their release. And I'll make sure they understand just how damned lucky they are.”

Amelia inhaled slowly, then turned and moved back to the exit. The door unlocked immediately. Stepping through it she waited at the primary exit until Archer joined her, then as the door unlocked, stepped back into his office.

Crowe stood silently, his eyes boiling with fury, with the knowledge that she had all but admitted to the punishments Wayne had inflicted on her, the abuse she had suffered over the years for the many times she'd aided so many in the county.

“Crowe,” Archer's voice held a warning. “Don't say anything I may have to lie about under oath. I won't appreciate it.”

Crowe's lips thinned.

“Are you ready now?” he asked Amelia.

“I'm ready,” she stated, her fingers still curled into fists as she moved past him, aching for his arms around her and immeasurably grateful that they weren't.

The Carter brothers were taken care of, she thought as she left Archer's office, with Crowe, John, and the security agents surrounding her as they led her to the SUV waiting outside. There was only one battle, one secret left to reveal. The most important of them all.

As Amelia entered the house with Crowe and the others, she watched silently as he moved up the stairs, the sound of her bedroom door closing quietly, causing her to flinch.

She had to tell him.

Her parents would be here soon. Too soon. She didn't have much time left.

“Rory?” she whispered to the agent still standing behind her.

“Yeah?” Soft, shadowed with suspicion and wariness on a normal day, his tone now held a sense of dangerous watchfulness.

“What would you do to protect those you love?” she asked.

Rory blew out a hard breath. “Whatever it took.”

She nodded slowly and took the first step up the stairs.

“Amelia?” His question had her pausing. “What would you do to protect those you love?”

“Die,” she whispered.

“Dying's easy,” he warned her. “It's the living that gets hard. And sometimes, that's the only way to save not just those you love, but yourself as well. Can you live again, Amelia?”

Could she live again?

She was about to find out.

 

CHAPTER 20

The bedroom door opened slowly, spilling light into the room for brief seconds before Amelia closed the door behind her. Her delicate silhouette appeared tinier and more fragile than ever as the light caught her from the side and spread around her.

Watching as she moved toward him, Crowe was once again reminded of the young woman she had been seven years before and how easily she had touched a part of him he'd believed dead for years.

“When I find Wayne,” he told her, his voice guttural, so rough he barely recognized it himself. “Every blow, every moment of fear you felt. For every goddamned second he hurt you, I'll torture him.”