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“That’s all I could find.”
“Bullshit. There’s more. There has to be. He said—” He stops.
“Who? Who said what?” I ask, feeling like this is part of something bigger than I initially thought.
“I told you about the abandoned houses. Are those on these records?” He holds up the files.
We both know the answer.
“There was a file I couldn’t get into,” I admit, hating myself for doing so. “It’s password protected.”
“That’s it.” He claps the file in his hand. “I fucking knew it. You’re going to get into that file.”
My eyes bulge. “I just told you it’s password protected. They won’t give me access to it.”
“Kyle knows. You’ll get the password from him.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll just stop by his office tomorrow morning and casually ask him to give me the code to the super secure accounting files that probably point to abandoned houses where his family has allegedly committed crimes.”
“Don’t fucking get sarcastic with me, bitch,” Dean yells.
“Don’t ever call me a bitch again. You bastard. Since you seem to know so much about Townsend’s crimes, why don’t you go to the police yourself?”
“This is bigger than the cops. Besides, that family has paid all of them off, anyway. My father knew it, and he was going to expose them. That’s why they had him killed!” he declares.
Dean sounds so sure of himself that I don’t even try to convince him otherwise.
He points a finger at me. “You’re going to get access to those files, and that is what I’m going to use to take that entire family down.”
“I’m not doing shit,” I state. I’m sick of Dean Walsh and this entire fucking scheme. “Whatever you think is happening at Townsend Industries isn’t. So what, I couldn’t get into one encrypted file? There are probably hundreds of files only certain people can access for security purposes.”
“No!” he seethes, pounding his fist into his hand. “They’ve been up to no good for years. I know it. My father knew it. That’s why he did what he did. He was going to make them pay him millions to keep quiet.”
A chuckle spills from my lips. “So your father wasn’t Robin Hood after all, huh? Of course he wasn’t. He only wanted to profit from what he believed were illegal activities happening.”
“I’ll make them pay and more! Me and—” He breaks off. Dean blinks a few times and then steps threateningly close. “You’re going to get into that file to get me the information I need. I don’t give a fuck if you have to suck Kyle Townsend’s dick every day in the office for the next two and a half months. You will prove that they pay money and keep secret houses where they threaten, coerce, and even kill to get their way!”
“Fuck. You,” I say through gritted teeth. A searing rage almost overtakes me. My hands squeeze into fists, and I have to fight the urge not to punch him.
After leaving my father’s house, I swore that I would never let someone use me as a pawn in their screwed-up life ever again. Yet, here I am, back at square one.
This is for your Ladybug, that calm, rational voice inside of my head reminds me. I’m not doing any of this to help Dean or even myself. Yes, staying out of jail sounds nice, but I need to be out for Eve. She’s my only concern.
“You don’t know who the hell you’re messing with,” Dean threatens.
I take a step back, inching my way toward the door.
“One phone call, and your life is over. No more running that consulting business or kissing Kyle Townsend on the beach in Miami.”
I blink in surprise.
Dean lets out a hollow chuckle. “Yeah, I know about that. Tell me? What do you think Townsend will do to you if he finds out what you’ve really been up to?” He looks me up and down, and disgust rolls through my belly. “Jail will be a fucking cakewalk.”
Memories of almost every interaction with Kyle Townsend flood my mind. He remained so calm and collected while his bodyguard cavalierly held a gun to my head. His multiple reminders not to betray him because I wouldn’t like the outcome.
Hell, even the way he remained so controlled when he made me come inside of a hotel room closet when its occupants were mere feet away from finding us.
A chill runs down my spine.
