Death wish, p.18
Death Wish, page 18
“You’re assuming I even want your family business anymore,” Winston clips out. “It’s tainted by your father’s murder.”
“You want it because that’s not all I’m offering.” I smirk at him, showing him he’s not the only asshole here. “I have something you desperately need.”
At this, he laughs, clearly intrigued. “Oh, I cannot wait to hear what this is.”
“Ash will be safe.”
The humor is wiped off his face and his blue eyes flash with suspicion. His Achilles heel is his wife. And I’m holding a knife to it.
“Are you threatening me, girl?”
Girl.
Fuck right off, dude.
“I’m telling you that a certain trio will never touch her, look at her, or even think about her again. This shadow always creeping behind you will be gone.” I snap my fingers like I have the ability to make it disappear just like that. “All it requires is your word right now and then a few legally binding documents later. You’ll have the company and I’ll have my sister. Ash won’t have to look over her shoulder ever again.”
“Because they’re obsessed with you now?” He scoffs.
“Yes.” I shrug. “And if I tell them you won’t give me what I want, they’ll do whatever it takes to make me happy. To make you see how serious I am about this.”
His nostrils flare. “You’ll send those motherfuckers after my wife if I don’t agree to your terms?”
“I’ll do anything for my sister, Winston. Anything. And they’ll do anything for me. Please don’t test me.”
He studies me for a long beat. “Lionel doesn’t care about your sister. You realize you’re handing me everything on a silver platter. He was never going to go after her.”
“Maybe not,” I agree, “but I need assurance that he won’t wake up one day with a conscience. If it ever publicly gets out and he has a change of heart, I won’t take the risk.” I smack the folder. “She will be mine and your family will be left alone.”
We have a staring contest that makes my skin crawl. I refuse to back down or cower to this man. My dad was a monster, but I watched his every move and learned from the best. I refuse to let someone like Winston Constantine have control over my life. Never again will some rich bastard control or threaten me.
“Fine.” He lets out an agitated sigh. “You can have your way. But rest assured, my attorneys will have the paperwork drawn up so that you’ll never be able to try to squeeze money out of us later on down the road. This severs any and all relationship with our families.”
“I don’t want your money,” I remind him. “I have quite enough of my own.”
“Good. You’re dismissed.”
I laugh at his words. “It won’t be a secret swept under a rug, either. I’m going to tell Ty that Della is his cousin. He deserves to know because he cares about me—about us.”
I’m not sure what sort of games Dad was playing where Ty Constantine was concerned, but it’s evident that’s exactly what that was. He was useful, the right age, and a link to that family. Ty and I and Della were just props in his extravagant production. The show’s over now.
“Any other last demands?” Winston asks. “I have a lot of work to do.”
I rise to my feet, grabbing up my file. “Enjoy your little one. Tonight, when you’re with him, think about the lengths you’d go to protect him.” I offer my hand to which he shakes. “That’s how I feel about Della.”
She’s my sister—my flesh and blood—and I’d happily bring down anyone and everything who stands between me and her.
Even a powerful Constantine.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sully
Unbelievable. The news is unrelenting. Most recently, they’ve been heralding Alexander Croft as a well-loved family man brutally attacked by our brother.
“This is so unfair,” Landry grumbles. “I want to scream at them all and tell them what sort of man Dad really was.”
Sarah is doing what she can to get my brother off, but it’s going to take time. Landry and Della’s testimony of his abuse, coupled with the physical evidence they obtained at the hospital, the night of the incident, will help. However, because there were no recorded incidents on file with the police or at the hospital from before, it’s going to be difficult to prove. Right now, it’s just their word against Alexander’s reputation, which was otherwise impeccable. It’s a high-profile case, so every “t” will be crossed and every “i” dotted.
The only ace in our hole, and mark against Alexander, is the autopsy and toxicology report on Landry and Della’s mother. That, coupled with the paternity test showing who Della’s real father is, should be enough to prove Alexander had a motive to hurt the girls.
We need more.
Winston Constantine isn’t going to offer any help where Scout’s concerned. He did his one good deed of the year by negotiating with Landry and getting her full custody over Della. The rest, we’ll have to do on our own.
Scout is a psychopath, yes, but he’s our psychopath. It just doesn’t feel the same without him here with us. Everyone is gloomy and sad, especially Landry and Della. We want him back.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Sparrow reminds us from his recliner. Della is passed out, sprawled over him, with Heathen snuggled up between them. “Leo and Lucian have our backs.”
My mind drifts to yesterday when we met with them.
* * *
Sparrow is cool as a fucking cucumber. Meanwhile, I’m trying not to fidget under Lucian’s cutting stare. He’s colder than Leo. Almost unfeeling whereas Leo shows every damn feeling on his face.
Lucian is unreadable.
“So,” Lucian says finally, after making us wait for too damn long to be normal, “tell me again what my father was having you all do.”
“He had us burn down buildings,” Sparrow says, holding up a finger, “beat guys up.” He holds up another finger. “Oh, and try to destroy Alexander Croft from the inside out.” He lifts another finger. “But his most favorite thing was anything that might make you two mad.” A final finger lifts. “I think that about covers it.”
Leo rolls his eyes. Lucian doesn’t even flinch.
“I see.” Lucian steeples his fingers, his sharp stare darting between me and Sparrow before landing on his brother. “What is it Scout told you when you visited him, Leo?”
“That our father has incriminating proof of him committing felonies,” Leo offers, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down Sparrow. “We can take care of it.”
“Well, do it already,” I exclaim, ready to get this damn meeting over with. “We’ll be your goons or whatever for payment. Just tell us who we need to rough up and we’ll take care of it as long as our brother goes free.”
Lucian smirks and drums his fingers on his desk. When I chance a look at Leo, he’s fighting a smile.
What the fuck?
“Something funny?” Sparrow grits out.
“We don’t need you two hotheads to ‘rough up’ anyone,” Leo says, shaking his head. “Just keep out of trouble, avoid my father, and you’ll be fine. We’ll have Scout free soon enough.”
“Perhaps,” Lucian offers, “you should find something to focus on until that time. Something productive and legal.”
“Like what?” I ask, frowning.
“What do you want to do?” Leo asks.
“Go to Harvard,” I grumble, trying not to let hope trickle in. “Don’t suppose you could make that happen.”
“And here I thought you’d demand something impossible. I know some people. I’ll make some calls.”
“For real?” I gape at him, waiting for him to say he’s fucking with me. He doesn’t. In fact, he seems pretty confident about knowing some people and actually being capable of making this happen.
Holy shit. We’re going back to college. For real this time.
* * *
“We should go on a trip,” Landry says, taking my hand in hers, dragging me to the present. “Get away for awhile.” She frowns. “When Scout gets out, of course.”
I hear the if in her voice. If he gets out.
He will. It’s just taking longer than we want.
“I always wanted to go camping,” I tell her. “A cabin in the mountains. We could go hiking and shit.”
“Sparrow is too precious to camp,” Landry teases. “He’s a city boy through and through.”
He flips her off. “You’re an asshole, Laundry.”
“Learned it from you, baby.” She blows him a kiss.
Their banter is cut short by a knock on the door. Sparrow shoots me a questioning look and I deposit Landry onto her own cushion on the couch and out of my lap to go answer the door. We’re not expecting anyone which means it could be Ty since he’s the only one who shows up unannounced.
I peek through the hole and am confused to see a woman.
“Who is it?” Sparrow demands.
“Not sure.” I open the door and take in the woman before me. “Sandra?”
She’s still the severe, cold woman I remember, her bun so tight, her eyes are pulled in a strange, inhuman shape. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was an alien. Fucking creepy to be honest.
“Can I help you?” I demand, anger flashing hot in my veins.
This woman lived with these girls for years and never did anything to stop that man. Why is she at our apartment right now? To threaten us? Ask for money? What the fuck.
“I need to speak to Miss Croft,” she says in a tight voice. “Please.”
“Nah,” I grind out, crossing my arms over my chest. “You can speak to me. I’ll relay the message.”
She darts her stare into the apartment, trying to catch a peek of Landry. I step in front of her line of vision, blocking her attempt. A huff of frustration escapes her.
“Please,” she begs. “It’s important. I have to give her something. Something I should have given her a long time ago.” Her eyes tear up, humanizing her for a split second. She quickly blinks them away and affixes me with a firm stare. “I won’t leave until I’ve spoken to her.”
For fuck’s sake.
“Honey,” I call out. “You want to talk to Sandra?”
“Sandra?” Landry’s feet pad across the wood floors until she’s behind me. “What are you doing here?”
“Can we talk?” Sandra asks.
I step out of the way, letting Landry see the woman.
“Yes,” Landry says. “But out here. I don’t want Della to wake. She’s already confused about everything enough as it is. Seeing you will upset her.”
Sandra nods in understanding. “It’ll be quick. I just need to give you this.” She pulls open her purse, fishes something out, and hands it to Landry. “Everything you’ll need is on there.”
Landry takes the USB drive and frowns at it. “What do you mean?”
Sandra pales and tears fill her eyes once more. “I was scared too, you know. Terrified of what he might do to the both of you.” A tear streaks down her cheek and she absently swipes it away. “I thought if I was there, keeping an eye on things, I could control it. That he wouldn’t take it as far as he took things with your mother.”
Landry flinches as if Sandra’s words physically pain her. “You knew what he did to her?”
“I overheard him talking to one of his men about the toxicology report.” She sighs. “I recorded the conversation as best I could.”
“But never did anything with it,” Landry clarifies. “You let us rot under his brutal thumb knowing you had actual evidence to get us out.”
The betrayal cuts her deep. I can tell by the way she trembles and her voice shakes. Sparrow materializes behind us, his strong presence joining with mine like a forcefield keeping this toxic woman out of our girl’s space.
“I was afraid,” Sandra admits. “Your father is, er, was a terribly powerful man. I needed more. Through the years, I collected what I could all with the intent of bringing it to the police one day.”
“One day,” Landry echoes.
“It never seemed like it was enough.” Sandra shoots Landry a pleading look. “To bury a man like Alexander Croft, you need a smoking gun.”
“He hurt me,” Landry whispers. “Over and over again. You knew it. You could have tried. Even if it wasn’t enough, it could have been enough to get us out of there. You were afraid, well, I was too.”
“I’m sorry, Landry. I truly am. Forgive me.”
Landry bristles, not at all eager to forgive this woman. “So that’s it? You’re delivering your proof now that he’s dead and can’t hurt you? You’re welcome. We took care of the problem on our own.”
Sparrow clutches the back of Landry’s neck, warning her of speaking too much truth. Scout would be pissed if she unravels everything he did to protect her.
“What will happen to Della?” Sandra asks.
“I’ve been awarded full custody.” Landry straightens her spine. “You knew Dad wasn’t her biological father, didn’t you?”
Sandra nods. “I’m so very sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t erase years of abuse, Sandra. It just makes you feel better.” She motions toward the woman. “Does it? Do you feel better now? Is that what this is about? Absolving your guilt? Because if so, consider yourself officially let off the hook.”
“No,” Sandra cuts in. “I want to be of assistance during the trial. I know they’re saying Mr. Mannford was a monster who murdered your father, but I do believe it was defending you. I think the USB drive will have enough proof to attest to that. Plus, I am willing to go on the witness stand and testify against your father’s wrongdoings.”
Landry stills. “You’re serious? You’ll help us get Scout out of jail?”
“I just want what’s best for you two girls. I’ve been a coward, but the man is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore and I don’t have a reason to be afraid of him. If this brings closure and gives you girls the happy ending you rightfully deserve, I want to help. I will help.”
“All right, then,” Landry murmurs. “I’ll have our attorneys be in touch.”
Sandra rushes forward and takes Landry’s face in her palms. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I loved you girls. I still do. I wish nothing but the best for you both. Please find a way to forgive me one day.”
“Maybe one day,” Landry allows. “Goodbye, Sandra.”
Sandra kisses Landry on the forehead and then turns on her heel, floating away like the creepy ghost-like lady she is. When she’s gone, having disappeared into the elevator, we go back into the apartment.
“I should look at this alone,” Landry says, holding up the drive. “It’s probably…” Her chin quivers. “Probably horrible whatever it is.”
Sparrow captures her jaw with his massive hand and he kisses her pouty lips. “You don’t have to ever be alone again, baby. You’re ours. We’ll handle everything together.”
Relief floods through her and she relaxes. “Okay.”
I take the USB drive from her, walking down the hallway to my room. I grab my laptop and sit on the bed. She and Sparrow sit on either side of me. It’s quiet as I plug it in and open the files.
So. Many. Files.
There are recordings of conversations, all neatly labeled. There are pictures and videos. Both Della and Landry each have their own folders. I don’t even want to touch Della’s folder because I’m afraid of what’s in there. I end up clicking on Landry’s instead. It’s no better than my worst fears. She’s just a kid in some of the pictures, bruised and beaten.
Endless pictures of her throughout the years with black eyes and bloody lips. It’s so fucking sad and horrible. The room is deadly quiet as I scroll through each picture until I come to one in particular.
Landry stares at the wall, disconnected completely. She has bruises on her neck, but it’s her expression that’s so haunting. As if she’s gone through the worst thing in her life and her life is no longer worth living.
The next picture is of bloody sheets.
I’m going to throw up. I mean, I knew what Scout told us Alexander did, but seeing the evidence of it is something else entirely. If he weren’t already dead, I’d kill him myself.
Another picture is of a naked Landry, pale and rail thin, curled up on the shower ground, blood running down the drain.
She takes off running, barely making it into the bathroom before she starts puking. Sparrow chases after her. I’m left alone, staring at the scene in front of me on the screen. The picture is labeled: miscarriage.
Landry was so young.
Thirteen or fourteen.
And miscarried her father’s baby.
I close the laptop, unable to look anymore. If Sandra were here, I’d smack that bitch for not doing something sooner. She watched all this happen, fucking recorded every detail, and did nothing.
I’m glad Scout isn’t here. If he were to see all this, he’d want to murder that woman with his bare hands. We need him out of jail, not sentenced to life over someone so inconsequential as Sandra.
Quickly, I text Leo that we have all the evidence we need to get Scout out. Then, I toss the phone on the bed beside my laptop and go to our girl. I find her curled up in Sparrow’s lap, clinging to the front of his shirt.
I kneel beside them and kiss her head. “Everything is going to be okay now, honey. I promise. You and Della are safe. You’re loved. You’re fucking free.”
She cries, but fuck do they sound like tears of utter and complete relief.
Epilogue
Landry
Two weeks later…
No trial.
Scout’s case won’t be going to trial.
I’d agonized about submitting the proof of what my father had done to us, because it meant handing over evidence of the most terrible parts of my life. It was disgusting and wrong. But it also meant a quick way to get Scout’s case dropped.
He did what he had to in order to protect me and Della, so of course I was going to do the same. The USB drive was enough to have the prosecutors so disturbed and horrified, they immediately dropped the case. No one wants to associate themselves with protecting the reputation of a man who could rape his own daughter, beat his children mercilessly, and murder his own wife.
