Avenging Christa: Irresistibly Mine Duet Book 2 Page 11

  “He attacked her.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, attacked?”

  “He raped her in every way a man can rape a woman. Then he beat her and left her lying in her own blood. A stranger found her the next morning. Got her to the hospital.”

  I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth. “Oh God.” I closed my eyes and tried to control my escalating breathing. That poor woman. Poor, poor woman. “Is she… okay?”

  A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I really don’t think she is, no. I mean she walks, she breathes, but she’s living a half-life, barely able to function, terrified of her own shadow. She’s got a kid, a daughter—”

  “His?” I interrupted, horrified.

  “No. No, her daughter is only seven. What I mean is she carried on with her life, but when I met her yesterday—”

  “You met her?”

  He nodded, patiently accepting my multiple interjections. “Yes. And that’s what I need your help with. See, at the time, she made a complaint to the police, but the Atwoods got to her, threatened her, scared her half to death, so she recanted her statement.”

  “And the problem went away,” I finished.

  “Yes.”

  I grimaced. “I hate that family.”

  He reached over to take my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You and me both, angel.”

  “How can I help?”

  “I asked her to go to the police again, but she won’t. I tried everything I could to persuade her, but she refused. She’s terrified, Christa. I want you to come back to Seattle with me and talk to her. I told her what he did to you in the hope it would encourage her to cooperate. It didn’t, but I think if she were to meet you, it might make a difference.”

  A knot formed in my stomach for what this woman must have endured, and I hated the thought of forcing her to relive it, but Dayton was right. If we could convince her to go to the police, then the case might, just might, be reopened. If Sutton was found to be culpable, that would end his contact with Max once and for all.

  I looked directly into Dayton’s eyes. “She’ll need our help.”

  He nodded. “I already told her this. Whatever she needs. A safe haven, money, schooling for the kid. Anything.”

  I nodded. “When do we leave?”

  He blew out a breath, as though he’d been worried I’d say no. “Thursday morning. I’d like to go now, but tomorrow is—”

  “Sutton’s day to have Max,” I said, a spark of hope lighting within me that his days with my son could be numbered if, if I could persuade Kathy to talk.

  “Yes. I want Max to come with us. If you’re in agreement, I was going to ask Mrs. Flannigan if she wouldn’t mind tagging along, so when we go to meet Kathy, Max can stay with her at the hotel.”

  “That’s a good idea.”

  “I’ll arrange it.”

  I stood, then nestled onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

  He kissed my forehead. “Thank me when that fucker is back behind bars, where he belongs.”

  * * *

  The taxi pulled up outside the restaurant where Kathy Johnson was working a late shift. Draven had advised us not to call ahead in case it spooked her. Better to blindside her and hope that when faced with me, she’d at least agree to talk.

  We walked inside the dimly lit restaurant. Wooden booths lined the walls, and in the middle were matching tables that seated four or six. Over each table was a low-hanging glass shade that emitted a buttery-yellow light.

  “Table for two, is it?” the hostess asked, already reaching for a couple of menus.

  “Actually, we’re here to visit someone,” I said. “Kathy Johnson.”

  “Oh.” The girl shot me a look of disappointment, then slotted the menus back into their holder. “She’s on her break. If you want to take a seat over there, I’ll go see if I can find her.”

  I sat on the long wooden bench, but Dayton remained standing, hands stuffed in his pockets, emitting a slightly uncomfortable air. I sniggered. He met my gaze.

  “What?”

  “You,” I said, pointing my chin at him. “If this was the Waldorf Astoria, you’d be in your element. But here… fish out of water.”

  He arched a brow. “Are you teasing me, Ms. Adams?”

  “Maybe,” I drawled.

  He chuckled, then sat beside me, his long legs splayed out in front of him, his ankles crossed. “Better?”

  “Not really. Now you just look uncomfortable seated.” I bit my lip. “Sorry, I don’t mean to make jokes. I’m just nervous about meeting her, that’s all.”

  He smiled. “The stakes are high. I get it. Nothing wrong with alleviating a hideous situation with a bit of humor.” Something caught his eye, and he nudged me with his elbow. “There she is.”

  I tracked his gaze to a petite redhead dressed in a blue uniform and scuffed black flats. Dear God, she wouldn’t have stood a chance against Sutton. She must be almost a foot shorter, and slight. One hundred and ten pounds at most. My heart clenched, then stuttered, empathy for her suffering rushing through me. I rose to my feet as she turned her attention our way. She spotted Dayton first, and her jaw clenched. She whispered something to the girl who’d gone to fetch her, then shook her head.

  I touched Dayton’s arm. “Wait here.” I strode over, conscious that if I didn’t act quickly, she might run. “Kathy,” I said. “Please, I just need a few minutes of your time.”

  Kathy glanced between me and Dayton, and then she turned to her friend. “It’s okay, Marsha. I got this.”

  “I’m right over there, sweetie.”

  Marsha returned to her position behind the podium, leaving me alone with Kathy. She nibbled her lip and wrung her hands. “I already told your boyfriend, I can’t help you.”

  “Yes, he said. And I respect that, truly, I do. All I’m asking for is five minutes. Just to talk. I’m so, so sorry for what Sutton did to you, for how, even years later, you’re still suffering. I’ve been there. I’m still there. You and me? We know how evil and destructive that man is. Please, just give me five minutes.”

  Kathy’s gaze flickered between me and the floor. She rubbed the middle of her forehead, then shook her head as if she was about to refuse.

  “If we stand together, we have a chance of beating him. Please, at least hear me… us out.” I gestured to Dayton who’d, sensibly, stayed back.

  She paused, then gave a brief nod. “I don’t get off until ten. We can talk then.”

  I glanced at my watch. Eight-thirty. “We can wait.”

  “Okay.” She spun on her heel and disappeared into what I presumed was the kitchen. I returned to where Dayton was still sprawled on the bench in an attempt to appear relaxed. I stopped at the podium.

  “It seems we’ll be needing that table after all,” I said to Marsha.

  Dayton sprang to his feet. “What?”

  I smiled weakly. He’d hate eating here. Tex-mex fare definitely wasn’t his thing. I opened the menu that Marsha passed to me. “Oh look, a bucket of wings. My favorite.”

  Dayton’s eyes widened. I slipped my arm through his. “We’ll take that booth in the corner.” I followed Marsha to the table, tugging a reluctant Dayton behind me.

  Marsha set down two sets of silverware wrapped in a thin paper napkin. “Your server will be over shortly to take your drinks order.”

  “Thanks,” I said, reaching for the list of drinks. “Shall we have a bottle of wine?”

  “Not fucking likely,” Dayton said, his lip curled in distaste as he scanned the menu. “They only sell a house white.” He shuddered. “Urgh.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “You are such a snob,” I whispered.

  I ordered a margarita, and Dayton reluctantly chose a Manhattan. The server returned after a few minutes, set down our cocktails, then took our food order.

  “Remind me again why we’re eating here when there’s a perfectly good restaurant five minutes’ walk away?” Dayton asked once the server had left
.

  “Because Kathy doesn’t get off until ten.”

  “And? We could still have eaten there and then returned here in time to meet with her.”

  “And risk her slipping out the door? No, it’s better we’re here, in plain sight. Plus, if she sees that we’re just normal people…” I paused and raked my gaze over him. “Correction. If she sees that I’m normal, she might relax a little, and I’ll have a better chance of reassuring her.”

  He gave me an affronted glare. “I’m normal. I just have good taste.”

  I smiled and patted his arm. “Yes, you do.”

  He captured my wrist and brought my hand to his mouth. He pressed a soft kiss to my knuckles. “I hope you can get her to agree to press charges.”

  “Me, too. But listen, I think I should talk to her alone.”

  “Why?”

  I sipped my drink, pondering whether I should share the thoughts I’d had at our first meeting. “Did I ever tell you that the first time I met you, my instinct was to run?”

  His eyes opened wide. “No.”

  I nodded. “When Jake brought me to your office, my first thought was that you reminded me of Sutton. Powerful, domineering, rich. The kind of person I wanted to have nothing to do with. I think Kathy sees the same things in you that I did.”

  His jaw tightened. “I am nothing like that scum.”

  “No, you’re not. But the reason I know that is because I know you. Kathy doesn’t. All she sees is another moneyed, authoritarian guy who’s trying to force her into reliving what, for her, was the worst day of her life. I understand her fear because it was my fear. I lived through what they put her through. The threats, the intimidation, the constant looking over your shoulder, waiting for the next metaphorical—or very real—blow to be struck. Terrified that you’re not strong enough to hold on. Reliving the horror over and over and over.”

  He let out a long breath of air. “I never thought of it like that.” He circled his middle finger around the rim of his glass, lost in thought. “Do you think other people see me like that?”

  “No. I think Kathy and I have a skewed view of men in power, but that’s because of our experiences. There are countless other broke guys out there who are equally evil. It’s not the money that makes the man, Dayton. Sutton would have been the same malevolent psychopath if he had to eat from garbage cans to stay alive. The only difference is that his money enabled him to get away with it.”

  My reassurances seemed to calm him, and we spent the rest of the waiting time talking about work, Max, anything but Sutton Atwood. At five after ten, Kathy appeared over by the bar. She’d changed into ripped jeans, a T-shirt, and a pair of red chucks that had definitely seen better days. I’d seen her watching us from time to time as she worked, and when she headed over, she appeared slightly less spooked.

  Dayton rose to his feet. “I’ll wait at the bar. Leave you ladies to talk.”

  “I can’t stay long,” Kathy said. “I gotta get back for my Tilly.” She waited until he’d left, then slid into the seat he’d vacated.

  “Thank you for agreeing to talk to me,” I said. “Would you like a drink?”

  She shook her head and nibbled on a thumbnail that was already bitten right down to the soft skin at the tip. She had an air of exhaustion surrounding her, a beaten-down look, and my heart squeezed painfully.

  “Your boyfriend said you was attacked, too.”

  I nodded. “I was, although my experience was different to yours.”

  “Yeah, you wasn’t raped, he said.”

  “No. Beaten, but not raped.”

  I kept my answers purposely short because I wanted her to ask the questions, to allow her to control the pace. I wasn’t about to push her. She was skittish enough as it was, her gaze darting around, not quite meeting my eyes. I wondered if she’d been like this before Sutton had viciously assaulted her, or whether her current demeanor was a result of the attack.

  “Are you still scared?” she asked.

  It was an interesting question, one that gave me insight into her psyche. I paused, taking a sip of my drink as a distraction technique while I thought of the right thing to say. Our circumstances were completely different. I’d been lucky, I’d found Dayton. This poor woman was all alone, struggling to bring up a child on minimum wage and probably suffering from a form of PTSD, especially if she hadn’t received the right kind of help at the time of the assault.

  “Sometimes I still wake up in a sweat, my heart drumming against my ribcage, my breathing out of control, but it’s rarer these days.” When that happened, I’d curl into Dayton’s side, and he’d soothe me, his palm rubbing comforting circles on my back until my heartrate returned to normal and the terrible sense of fear receded.

  “Because you have him.” She cocked her head toward Dayton who’d settled himself at the bar, his back to us.

  I nodded. “I was lucky.”

  “He’s not like him then?”

  I noticed she never used Sutton’s name. I wondered sometimes why I found it so easy to. Maybe because I’d once been in a relationship with him. “No. He’s nothing like Sutton.”

  She leaned forward, a spark of interest in her eyes. “Your boyfriend said you was beaten and mutilated, but not by him. By someone else.”

  “Yes. He paid someone to beat me and cut me.” I laughed bitterly.

  “Wonder why he didn’t do it himself?“ Kathy mused, although I wasn’t sure whether the question was for me or for herself. Maybe she was trying to figure out why she’d been different.

  “I don’t know. I gave up trying to figure out Sutton Atwood long ago.”

  “He’s a madman,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “Yes. He is. And now he’s trying to take my son.”

  “His kid.”

  I shook my head violently. “No. Max is mine. I never wanted him to have anything to do with his father. Ten years he got. Ten years in prison for what he did to me. I thought we were safe. I thought I could move on.” My voice hitched, and I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I just don’t know what to do. That’s why I need your help.”

  Kathy got up and, for a brief moment, I thought I’d scared her away. Instead, she came around to my side of the table and sat next to me. She put her arm around my shoulder and hugged me, resting her head on top of mine. We fell into silence, two women with the most heinous of things in common.

  “I want to help you—honest to God I do—but I know what he’s capable of. I can’t go through that again. I can’t risk him hurting Tilly, or me. I gotta be there for my daughter. I’m all she’s got.” She squeezed me tighter. “I’m real sorry you’ve come all this way for nothin’.”

  The worst part about hearing Kathy refuse my request was that I understood. If I’d been in her position, I would have probably felt the same. I could spew out all the platitudes, tell her we’d protect her, that she’d be safe, blah blah blah, but that’s all they’d be. Words. I was proof that when Sutton Atwood had you in his sights, he didn’t let go. She’d escaped, and she wanted it to stay that way. If she came back onto his radar, who knew what he’d do? I could keep trying to persuade her, but one look at the set of her jaw, and the determination sound in her tone, I knew I’d be wasting my time.

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” I said, touching my head to hers briefly. “I got to meet you, and for that, I’m glad.”

  I took a card out of my pocket, one I’d written my number on earlier. I passed it to her. “If you need anything at all. Ever. Call me. No strings.”

  She took it from me, rose from the bench, and slipped it in her back pocket.

  “You’re a good person. I hope you find a way to stop him.”

  I tracked her as she left the restaurant, then I cut my eyes to Dayton. I gave a small shake of my head.

  No joy.

  16

  Dayton

  I kissed the top of Christa’s head. “We’re here.”

  She yawned and stretched, then turned sleepy eyes toward me.
“Did I sleep the whole way?”

  I nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “Some company I am.”

  “That’s okay. Max, Mrs. Flannigan, and I entertained ourselves, didn’t we, buddy?”

  “Yep,” Max said, emphasizing the ‘P’.

  “I still can’t believe I got to fly in this amazing plane,” Mrs. Flannigan said excitedly. “Wait until I tell my husband, although he won’t believe me.”

  I smiled, even though I wasn’t feeling it on the inside. I couldn’t shake my disappointment that Kathy had refused to go to the police. I’d been sure that confronted with Christa, and knowing what he’d done to her, understanding that Kathy wasn’t his only victim, she’d have capitulated. I could empathize with her fear, but still…

  “We’ll find another way,” Christa murmured.

  I squeezed her hand as we taxied to a stop. “I know.”

  Except I didn’t know. Whatever I did, however many strings I pulled or people I paid, victory edged out of my grasp. Max wasn’t an object we were fighting over, but I had no doubt we were in the middle of a war, and one I could not, would not lose.

  Paul was waiting outside the car at the bottom of the airplane steps. Mrs. Flannigan insisted on sitting up front, said she felt more comfortable there. I shrugged. Made no difference to me. I fastened Max into his car seat and got in the back with Christa.

  “I’ll have Paul drive you home first, Mrs. Flannigan,” I said as he pulled away.

  “Actually,” Christa said. “Would you mind looking after Max today?”

  I gave Christa a quizzical frown.

  “Not at all,” Mrs. Flannigan said. “We can take a walk in the park. It’s too lovely to be cooped up inside.”

  “Park!” Max shouted. “Ponies.”

  He loved stroking the horses lined up around Central Park. Maybe when he was older, I’d get him a pony of his own. There were stables not far from my home in the Catskills where we could keep the thing.

  “I need to work,” she explained, holding her hand in the air when I opened my mouth to tell her no, she fucking didn’t. “I’m going in for my third surgery on Monday.”