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CHAPTER SEVEN
DELIA
This has been the best week of my life. Marcus has spoiled me all week. Not with things. Those don’t matter. With attention. And kindness. He’s lightened my load, bringing the kids home every night. Or having lunch delivered from the Diner. And it’s not the lunch, but the notes that come along with it. Every time we talk, he calls me beautiful. I’m starting to believe him. He asks about the boys and the things they like to do. He’s making plans. And when I asked if he could go with me to meet with the attorney today, he didn’t hesitate to say yes.
“Morning, Beautiful,” Marcus greets me at his truck, opening the door for me and placing a sweet kiss on my lips before I can even reply.
“Morning. Thanks for doing this with me.”
“Anything for you,” he replies as he helps me into the truck and closes the door.
We fall into easy conversation on our way to Rock Hill, where James Covey’s office is. It’s about twenty minutes from Briar Mountain on the other side of the range. It’s bigger with more options than we have at home, but I like home. It’s small and safe. When we pull up in front of the office, it doesn’t look very impressive. Not much more than a storefront with other businesses surrounding it.
“We’re sure this is the guy to solve all my issues?” I ask skeptically.
“Mr. Covey is more than this office would make it seem. Trust me. I’ve watched him in court before with some of the families that have been brought in, and he’s something else.”
Feeling somewhat better, we get out of the truck and make our way inside, where his paralegal Grace greets us. She’s a beautiful woman, tall and lean with expressive blue eyes and long wavy dark hair. When she looks at me, I can see pain in her eyes. She’s had a past trauma like me.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Ms. Bertram. Marcus, good to see you again.” She nods his way but doesn’t make full eye contact with him. “Mr. Covey is ready for you. If you’ll just follow me.”
We follow her down a basic hallway; the inside matching the drabness of the outside. The only thing out of place is Mr. Covey himself. He stands when we enter, and this man belongs here as much as I belong on the pageant circuit. He’s tall, his muscles bulging under his three-piece suit that looks custom made for him. His hair, both on top of his head and his face, looks to be professionally styled. He’s eyeing us up and making judgements before we are three steps into the room, and I feel like I’m lacking in…everything.
“Ms. Bertram, it’s good finally meeting you face to face. Please have a seat.” He gestures to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk before turning to Marcus. “Officer Manning,” he raises a brow, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Surprise?” He smiles at the man before they shake hands.
Once we’ve all taken our seats, Mr. Covey wastes no time.
“You won’t have to worry about your ex for a very long time, Delia. It appears his parole has been revoked.”
“What? How?” I ask, afraid to get my hopes up.
“I did a little digging,” he begins. “It seems our Mr. Bertram wasn’t exactly on the straight and narrow. He’s been having you followed for months. He was bankrolled by a known criminal in exchange for some unsavory trades once he was out.”
“What does that mean? Be straight with me, please. I need to know exactly what he was planning,” I plead with him.
He glances at Marcus before turning back to me and nodding. “He was going to sell your kids.”
“My boys? What was he going to sell them into? The sex trade?” My voice is rising with each word until I know I’m yelling, but what the fuck? My insides are threatening to expel everything I had for breakfast.
“The man he’s working with takes all kinds. The boys he tends to break before putting them on the streets to sell drugs or keep eyes on the girls he forces into prostitution. He gets them hooked so they become dependent on him and become his kids. He brainwashes them into forgetting who they are and where they came from. Convinces them that no one is looking for them or loves them.”
“That’s…horrible.” Marcus says as he grabs my hand. I don’t know who is consoling whom, and I don’t care. I need his strength.
“And what were his plans with me?”
“He wanted you dead.”
I blink at that, but it’s exactly what I expected. He wants me gone; he hates me that much. “How did you find all of this out and what’s that mean?” I finally ask, still fighting the nausea.
“Well, it means a few things. The man who’s been following you was arrested and will no longer be a threat. Your ex is having additional charges pressed against him, and the evidence is overwhelming. He’s not getting out of this, and he’ll be lucky to ever see the outside again. His attorney has also passed along what will happen if he ever so much as thinks of you and your boys and has assured me that he won’t ever contact you again.”
“What will happen?” I whisper, wanting to know, but also…not.
“Let’s just say I have my own friends, and they are more frightening and dangerous to him than any of the bad guys he might know now.”
The way he looks at me tells me he means every word, and all I can be is grateful he’s on our side. Marcus doesn’t say another word, and we finish up our conversation and leave the office. I don’t know how I’m feeling. Definitely still twisted up inside over what could have happened. Ecstatic that he can never hurt us. Sad for my kids, having to grow up with the knowledge half of their DNA comes from him.
