Unyielding (Tortured Love Book 1) (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

Lynda’s phone had been ringing all morning with calls from reporters. She had no clue how they’d found her number, but Merrick had instructed her not to answer any of the questions, or to take the calls at all. He had a PR staff working on issuing statements.

Other than the annoyance of those phone calls, she had to admit it was very comfortable in Merrick’s apartment.
Correction— it’s your apartment now, too.
All she had to do was push the button on the intercom and someone answered, and then they brought her whatever she wanted. Her day had started out fantastic when she found the note from Merrick. That was so unexpected, she still hadn’t stopped smiling.

Once she silenced her phone, she accomplished a ton of work. Every hour or so she’d check the phone to make sure Merrick hadn’t called. When she mentioned the calls to Chloe, she was told not to worry about missing a call from Merrick. If he needed to reach her, he’d call one of the staff. After learning that, Lynda put her phone across the room where she couldn’t see it and worked through lunch, which Chloe brought to her.

It was two in the afternoon when she finally stopped work and decided to answer emails from her friends. Everyone wanted to know how the wedding had gone, even the ones whom André the tyrant had not allowed to be in it. Lynda was mollified in being able to tell them how Merrick had told off André for what he’d done, and was grateful each of her friends had understood and weren’t upset with her.

As for answering the question of why she’d married Merrick, Lynda had a carefully worded answer that someone from his PR team had emailed her early this morning. Lynda hated having to feed any of her friends a line, but at the same time she understood that telling them anything other than what Merrick was saying to his own friends and business associates would have far reaching implications if it reached the wrong person. Business was business, after all, and the two had to present a unified front.

Besides, she could hardly tell any of her friends the real truth. It was too humiliating and twisted. The irony of that wasn’t lost on her. She’d entered into what felt like an unholy alliance, all for the sake of a company she’d never wanted to own in the first place, and then had to lie to her closest friends about the reason she’d married a man she barely knew. At the same time, she was telling those lies to side with her new husband, who was likely lying to his friends, too.

Can anyone tell me what is wrong with this picture?

Lynda sighed. Life was full of complications. Some of them were simply easier to deal with than others.

Right. And the sex isn’t bad either.

She refused to feel guilty over that. It was about time she was able to enjoy sex again. Or have any at all, for that matter, without horrible memories surfacing to ruin it for her. She really should tell Merrick the entire truth. He likely knew therapists who could help her. But whenever she pictured having to relive what her uncles had done to her, she broke out in a cold sweat. It was easier to let that stay buried.

As for Rey, she couldn’t tell him that for obvious reasons. Not only had she lied about both incidents, but what Rey had done might still be out there. Now that she was in the public eye, would the videos surface? Had he truly destroyed them all? And if he hadn’t, what would Merrick say if Rey decided to do something with them now?

Lynda’s good mood evaporated as the reality of that situation settled over her. She tried to distract herself by clicking around online for the latest news, and quickly wished she hadn’t. She wanted to punch something when she realized her marriage was the subject of every leading headline.

Holy shit.
It was like a bad train wreck. She should look away, but she didn’t. She read every story. Granted, the legit news sources weren’t making stuff up as much as they were merely speculating based on what little they knew so far, but the rag mags had definitely formed their own versions of the truth.

Lynda read theories about herself from the truly bizarre, to the one that stated her father had paid Merrick a seven figure sum to marry his daughter because of secrets in her past he couldn’t let get out. That one was closer to the truth than they realized, although her father didn’t know what Rey had done.

She knew she should ignore the stories. It wasn’t the first time someone in her family had been dragged through the press, after all. Her father routinely was, but he let it roll off his back. She might never get used to doing that.

Merrick would read this stuff, too. She wondered how he handled it. The same stories she read about herself had plenty to say about her husband, too. He had married her because of her trust fun, because she was pregnant, or because she had blackmailed him into it.

There was even one that claimed they had proof she and Merrick had been secretly seeing each other since she was a minor, and he had married her so that “proof” would never be revealed. The fact that one made no sense at all was likely the reason most people would believe it.

Lynda finally closed her browser and walked out onto the balcony. She needed fresh air and the perspective looking out over the city could give her. So many people out there, all doing their own thing and simply trying to survive. That’s
exactly
what she was doing. Couldn’t the reporters understand that? She had married Merrick to protect her family’s business. Even if her father and uncles didn’t deserve such loyalty from her, they were the only family she had.

Merrick had married her for no other reason than to get his hands on a company that would make him a shitload of money one day. And that was that. They were merely two people who had known each other for two days now, legally joined, trying to make the best of it.

Why should total strangers give a shit about that? Why was it big news to the whole fucking world? The entire media storm surrounding her marriage was so damn silly. That’s why she’d shied away from the press most of her life. The spectacle of it made her crazy.

Lynda went back inside and decided to get in a workout and another quick shower before Merrick got home. Although, her workout would be a light one because her body was very sore from last night. But it was a sweet pain because it brought with it delicious memories that aroused her like nothing else. At least she and Merrick were compatible in bed. If she had nothing else to count on in this marriage, she had that.

****

Merrick listened as Alan told him about a man named Rey Santos, and the man’s obsession with filming himself having sex with women. Rey was thirty years old, worked in some shipping company Merrick had never heard of, at a desk job that likely gave him lots of free time to spend on the Internet. He had graduated from Columbia the same year Lynda had, with a degree in American Studies.

Six months ago, he’d moved back in with his mother who needed full time care at home, but Rey wasn’t caring for her. Home health nurses and aides were doing that, and Medicare was paying for most of it. The rest of the money was coming out of her savings.

Alan said Rey had sold his condo and two of his three cars to pay off partial loans he’d racked up over the past couple of years, before moving back in with his mother. He was still heavily in debt, and as far as Alan could tell, it wasn’t from drugs or gambling. He simply spent more than he earned, and kept on spending it. Merrick suspected the loser was waiting for his mother to die so he could have her house.

This
was the man Lynda had been with for seven years? Had he only been with her for the money? Did she even realize that?

More disturbing were the videos Alan had found on amateur porn sites, featuring Rey and multiple different women. None of them were Lynda, thank God. Merrick was now convinced the real reason Lynda had been so traumatized over Rey was because she’d found out he had filmed them.

He had betrayed her all right, and that was the way in which he’d done so. He’d filmed them having sex, and she must have found out. Or had she willingly let him do it and not known what he planned to do with the videos? If that was the case, she must have found something online, or discovered his plan another way.

Alan said all the uploads had been done during the past two years, but that didn’t mean the asshole might not have a few saved from when he’d been with Lynda. Now that Merrick and his new bride were in every print and online paper across the country, Rey, who needed money, might come sniffing around to propose a little blackmail.

Alan gave Merrick Rey’s birthdate, his social, bank account numbers, and every known address for the past ten years. One of those was the apartment he’d shared with Lynda for five years, close to the university campus.

Merrick sat back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. What the fuck should he do? While he could understand Lynda not wanting to tell him about this, what he failed to understand was how she couldn’t see the importance of him knowing. Surely she had already figured out those videos, if Rey had them saved, might now surface. And if they did, it wouldn’t only be her reputation on the line.

“What do you want to do about this asswipe?” asked Alan.

Merrick’s first instinct was to take him out, like he’d had done to William Shaumberg and those two henchmen of his who had killed Theresa. But he didn’t want Rey’s mother in the crossfire. Having a two-bit loser like Rey Santos wacked was one thing. No one would give a shit. But if his bedridden mother, who was dying of congestive heart failure and kidney failure got killed, too, the world would go insane at the indecency of it.

“I need his computer, and any other storage device or gadget where those videos might be saved.”

“Consider it done. You want to go through them yourself, or should I have one of my people do it?”

“No. I need to do this. And, Alan, don’t hurt his mother.”

“You got it, Merrick.”

Once the call was finished, Merrick walked to the windows and looked out over the city. What was it she’d said about Rey?
“Let’s just say I found out our sex life was no longer private, and leave it at that.”
Yeah. That was it. Not exactly a lie, but not the whole truth, either.

He had no choice but to confront her. He had to know the rest of the story. This was too important. Rey didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to read the stories in the papers today and realize he was sitting on a potential gold mine. Because Merrick didn’t believe for one second the man no longer had videos of him and Lynda doing the nasty.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. She had
lied
to him. A small voice in his head reminded him that his wife didn’t know about Theresa, but he told that voice to go fuck itself. This wasn’t the same situation at all. Not even close.

That voice then reminded him that Lynda didn’t know he’d ordered hits on three men ten years ago, and that they weren’t the only shady things he’d done. Again, Merrick convinced himself that none of those things mattered. This wasn’t about
him
. It was about Lynda’s ex-boyfriend.

He refused to accept that he owed his wife a full accounting of his life. This was a distinct situation, separate from what he sometimes had to do in the course of business, and thus it needed to be dealt with on its own merits. Comparing it to anything he’d done to resolve a different problem was irrelevant.

Merrick rescheduled the rest of his meetings that afternoon, then set new calendars for everything else. It would have to wait. He needed to go home and talk to his wife.

Chapter Fourteen

Lynda was more than impressed with Merrick’s workout room. A kickass stereo system, full video feed capability so she could watch movies or TV during her workout if she wanted, and every imaginable cardio and weight machine that existed.

She stayed in for there an hour, and then went into her bathroom to take another shower. She’d never felt so refreshed afterward. All the crap she’d read online dissipated as she dried off, then dressed in a pair of her favorite white Capri pants and a red tank top. She even put in matching earrings.

It was almost four, and she’d been told by the staff that Merrick rarely got home from work before six. She planned on reading for a couple of hours, but then she heard his voice downstairs. He was home early.

Smiling, she started down the hall to go and greet her husband, but he was already upstairs and coming toward her. Her heart pounded at the look of anger on his face. What was wrong?

His gaze drifted over her clothes, but there was no appreciation in his glance. “We need to talk.”

“All right. Should I—”

“In my office. Now.”

She took a step back at the tone in his voice. “
Excuse
me? I’m not one of your employees, Merrick.”

“No, you’re not.” He stopped mere inches from her. It was clear he was livid over something, but she had no clue what it was. What the fuck had happened? “You’re my
wife
. And as my wife, what affects you also affects me.”

Lynda swallowed hard as her mind raced. This could only be about two things. Her uncles or Rey.
Rey … the videos…
She put a hand over her chest. “Oh, God…”

He gave her an incredulous look. “What haven’t you told me, Lynda? What do you now suspect I found out?”

Lynda blinked back tears. “Merrick, please. You’re scaring me.”

For the briefest second, his features softened, but then the expression was gone. “In my office. I want complete privacy for this talk.”

She followed him into his bedroom, cutting her gaze toward the bed where they’d spent the night in each other’s arms. Would that ever happen again, or had she blown it already by not telling him everything about Rey in the first place?

They entered his office, and Merrick shut the door. Then he pressed the button on the intercom. When one of the staff answered, he told them he and Lynda were not to be disturbed for any reason.

“Sit down.” He pointed toward a chair in front of his desk, but before she took a seat, she pulled it closer to his. She would not sit across from him like a damn subordinate.

“Tell me about Rey Santos.”

Fuck. Fuck it all to hell and back.
“It sounds like you already know everything, so please can we not play this game?”

He slammed both fists on the desk, and she jumped. She started to rise as hot fear raced through her, but he was up and standing in front of her before she could move. “I’m sorry. Please sit down again. I’ll refrain from any further outbursts of a physical nature.”

She was having trouble holding back the tears now. His voice sounded edgy and barely in control. A muscle in his jaw twitched. She had no idea what this man was capable of when truly angered, and didn’t want to be in the same room with him when she found out.

“Lynda, I said I was sorry. I will not hurt you. Please sit down so we can get to the bottom of this.”

That was a little better, but not much. She finally took her seat again and so did he. “Will you please tell me what you know?” she asked. This would be easier if all she had to do was fill in the blanks.

“No, I will not. I want to hear it from you.
All
of it this time.”

She put a hand to her mouth as hot bile rose in her throat. “May I please have something to drink?”

“Stop stalling, Lynda.”

“I’m not stalling. Merrick, this is really hard for me to talk about. No one else knows what happened.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Exactly what I said. I’ve told no one about this.”

He studied her face carefully for a few seconds, then asked her what she wanted to drink.

“Ginger ale, please. My stomach is in knots.”

He swiveled around and pushed the button on the intercom again. “Please bring a bottle of ginger ale, a glass with ice, and a Jack and Coke for me.” Then he faced her again. “Compose yourself until they arrive with the drinks. I don’t want any gossip about this situation. It’s too volatile.”

She nodded, forcing her breathing to slow. When one of the staff, whose name Lynda didn’t yet know, arrived with the drinks, he placed them on the desk without a glance at either her or Merrick, the left and closed the door behind him. Her husband had his staff trained well.

She poured the ginger ale into the glass, spilling some on his desk because her fingers were shaking. He opened a drawer and handed her a paper napkin. “It’s all right. The wood is treated.”

Lynda didn’t give a shit about his fucking wood, but this wasn’t the time to say so. She took a couple of large sips until she no longer felt like she would puke, and noticed he had already drained his drink. Time to get this out in the open.

“I found an email three years ago in October one evening while Rey was out with friends from college. I was on his computer, looking for pictures I knew he’d saved on his hard drive, because I wanted to use some of them in a design I was working on.”

“In seven years you never did that before?”

“No, I didn’t. He usually emailed me anything he thought might be of interest for me to use, but he’d forgotten to send these particular pictures. And we didn’t live together the entire time I was with him. In fact, I still had my own apartment.”

She couldn’t blame him for looking suspicious. “Why?”

“Because sometimes I needed my own space in which to work. The apartment we shared was noisy late into the night, because it was in a building where grad students lived. Mine wasn’t noisy, and I liked the area better.”

He nodded slightly, and she drank more ginger ale before continuing. “The email was to several of his college friends, and the subject line read ‘Told you Lynda fucks like a porn star’.”

She wasn’t sure if the look of shock and disgust on his face was because Rey had disrespected her so horribly, but she was grateful for it, just the same. He had defended her once already. Would he do it again if necessary?

“It contained several videos of us having sex, and I don’t mean doing it missionary position in a darkened room.” Heat rose to her face when she realized how much she’d have to tell him. “Rey liked it messy, and in as many ways as he could bend my body. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s part of the story. I knew you weren’t a virgin the first time I kissed you, and I certainly wasn’t. We each have a past.”

A quick image of him making love to other women flashed through her mind, and the resulting wave of hot jealousy surprised her. “The videos had been edited so that they resembled nothing short of rough porn. He’d spliced scenes together and cut out anything intimate or transitional. The email said he had others. All they had to do was ask for them.”

“Did you look for the others?”

“Oh yeah. I sure did. There were about three hundred. I could tell by my hairstyle and items in the background that he’d been filming us for years.”

“And you had no idea this was happening.”

He didn’t believe that. She heard it in his voice. “None. I swear it.”

“Did you confront him, or did you simply leave?”

“Oh, I confronted him. I waited up until he got home and watched him delete the email from his trash. Then I watched him delete every single video.”

Merrick narrowed his eyes. “Did you check to see if he had them stored somewhere else on the computer or on another device?”

“No.” He’d conclude now that he’d married a complete fool. “I was upset and afraid. I wasn’t thinking clearly. There was a lot of screaming and throwing things that night, and I don’t mean from him.”

Merrick nodded again. At least the anger had finally left his eyes. “While I can understand your reaction, I wish you had checked.”

“I wish I had, too, Merrick, but I didn’t. I packed everything I could and left that night. I never went back. He shipped the rest of my things weeks later, after I refused to return his calls, his emails, or answer the door when he came over.”

Merrick snorted, sucked what little was left of his drink, then pushed the button on the intercom and asked for another one. He cut his gaze toward her glass. “Do you need a refill?”

“No. Thank you for asking.”

“How long did he try to get you back, just for my own curiosity?”

“About a month.”

“I’m proud of you for not going back with him, but I have to say this. I’m finding it hard to believe you never knew he was filming you both, or that he’d never done it before.”

“He told me he was drunk when he wrote the email and he never would have sent it.”

“And you believe that?”

She sighed and glanced down at the floor. “No. I don’t. I didn’t believe it then, and I still don’t believe it. I think he only said that because he was caught.”

“You do realize there are probably copies of the videos, or at least some of them, floating around out there. Even if he never sent any of them, he likely made copies that you didn’t find.”

“I know that now.”

“Lynda, you should have told me.”

She finally met his gaze, and the disappointment in it forced the tears that had been threatening to her eyes. “I
know
,” she whispered. “I wish I could explain what it felt like that night. Seven years …
seven years
I gave that asshole. I was so humiliated. It felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest. If he’d died instead of me finding that email, I don’t think I could have felt worse.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far.” The most profound look of pain spread across his face, and Lynda stopped in the act of speaking once more as she stared at him. What the hell was that about? He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, and when he looked her in the eyes again, his face was once more a mask of controlled anger and disappointment. But she knew she had not imagined that anguish.

What was he hiding in
his
past? Had someone he loved died? She knew so little about her husband. “What do you mean by that? That you wouldn’t go quite that far?”

“I mean the end of a relationship, even a long term one, isn’t the same as never being able to see or touch the person again because they’re actually dead.”

Was his voice
shaking
? “You sound like you have firsthand experience with that.”

“This isn’t about me.” He fidgeted with the cup that held his pens. She’d hadn’t seen him this rattled yet. “It’s about you and the mistake you made three years ago in not checking to be sure the videos were gone.”

“Merrick, what do you want me to do? I can’t go back in time and change that.”

“You should have told me.”

His voice was hard again, and louder now. Was that because of whatever had unnerved him, or because he realized that Rey might come forward and try to blackmail one of them?
If
he still had the videos.

“I know that. I can’t do anything about that either, except apologize. You know, he could have blackmailed me by now if he wanted to. He knew I had money.”

A thoughtful look came over his face, and Lynda wiped away the last of her tears.

“That is true. But the stakes are higher now.”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

Someone knocked. Merrick told them to come in, and then the same staff member as earlier placed the second drink on the desk and left. Merrick drained that one before he spoke again. Drunk and angry wasn’t a good combo.

“There’s nothing you can do, except swear to me that you aren’t keeping anything about this man or those videos from me.”

“I’m not. You have the full story.”

“He never contacted you about them, or gave you any reason to think he had copies?”

“No. Never. I haven’t heard from him since a month after I walked out.”

He fidgeted with everything on the desk while she watched. Finally, he looked at her, and she wanted to die inside at the look of regret in his beautiful eyes. “I need some time to think. I’ll instruct the staff to make sure you eat dinner, but I won’t be here.”

What?
“Where are you going?”

“I need to be
alone
, Lynda. Please leave now.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re
dismissing
me?”

He said nothing, merely stared at her with a cold, hard look that turned her bones to ice.

“You know, communication is the key to a successful marriage.”

He snorted again. “Said by the woman who kept a secret from her husband that might well ruin them both.”

She knew he was right, but Lynda doubted his own past was pristine. She rose, because it was obviously she’d get nowhere by staying in this room right now and trying to talk some sense into him. “All right, Merrick. You have your victory. I didn’t tell you the truth about Rey because I didn’t know you, and because it left me with emotional scars that I’m not sure will ever heal.”