how long this has been going on, but from what I’ve unearthed so far this week, it appears to have been occurring for a few years.”
When I flip my laptop over to face me, the man reflecting back at me doesn’t match the strength of his voice. He has a deep, gravelly tone that belongs to a fit, early thirties man. This face is gaunt, white, and has more similarities to mine than I care to share.
My heart pains for Dane when he says, “Then the rest of the money… God, I don’t even know where it’s gone. Our mortgage is above our means, and Kristin is driving my old sedan.” Determination sparks in his eyes when he stares down the lens. “But I will find out. Put your money on it—”
“Jesus,” I mutter under my breath when a second person joins the frame. I can’t see much of the face of the person who snuck up on Dane unaware, but it doesn’t take away from the sickening act occurring. She has wrapped an extension cord around his neck. It isn’t in a loving way.
When the blonde pulls Dane’s mobility chair out from beneath him, I drop my eyes to the ground. The sound of his struggle is more than I can handle. I don’t want to watch it. His gurgles as he fights to fill his lungs with air thrusts images of the last time I saw Joey into my head, but instead of letting it knock me down as many other things have the past few weeks, I recall how much lighter my shoulders felt when I was given closure.
I want Grayson and Alex to experience the same relief, so instead of continuing to dispel my rage, I do what I was trained to do. I protect, I serve, I honor, and I obey.
It just isn’t to the person I thought it would be.
34
Brandon
I scrub a hand over my eyes when my phone commences hollering. I fell asleep on my sofa—again—even with it being designed to discourage couch sleepers. Even someone without a dime to their name would choose a cardboard box in a cold alleyway over my couch. It has my back out of whack as well as my mood.
Aware no one would call this early unless it were urgent, I snag up my cell phone, slide my finger across the screen, then squish it to my ear. My caller breaks into a panicked script before I have the chance to issue a greeting. “How did you hack into Dane’s bank accounts? He didn’t leave his shit open for anyone to see. He was pedantic about security.”
My surly mood is heard in my reply. “Good morning to you, too, Alex.”
Not that Alex cares how I’m feeling. He’s as bad as Isaac. Unless it directly affects him, he doesn’t give a fuck about anything or anyone. “You hacked in like you did Regan’s laptop, didn’t you? Hung around until you got what you needed?”
“No. I had a search warrant for a very valid reason—”
“Dane wasn’t rogue!” he interrupts, having no clue he’s once again shifting his anger onto the wrong person. I’ve spent the last sixteen hours combing through evidence on a case that has nothing to do with me for him, so the least he could do is give me some fucking respect.
After giving him a moment to calm down, and perhaps myself, I say, “I never said he was.”
The pause must have done Alex some good. He’s thinking more rationally now, albeit a little hesitant. “The warrant was for Kristin?” I barely pop out a halfhearted sigh when he demands, “Tell me everything you know, Brandon.”
“I don’t know anything.” I do, but I’m sure as fuck not giving him all the details. My first search was illegal, so if news of it gets out, my career will nosedive even more than it already has.
“Tell me everything you fucking know, Brandon!” Confident shouted words won’t rattle me, Alex low-balls with a tasteless threat. “Or I’ll make sure every agency from New York to Burbank knows the real reason you go by an alias.”
Does that mean what I think it does? Is he aware Melody was raped by my brother? If so, it’s fucked he’s using that against me. If I had it my way, I’d drag Madden’s name through the mud. The only reason I’ve kept quiet is because Melody doesn’t want her name associated with a political scandal. She wants to give it the merit it