Crossing Hathaway (21 page)

“Whenever you’re ready,” I said after a few minutes.

A deep breath and a nod settled the shaking in his hands somewhat. “It was just after I started working there, like eight years ago. I didn’t know Richard existed, only Ben. He was nice then, strict, but polite and totally gorgeous.”

To let him know he had my rapt attention, I shifted my whole body to face him.

“I never saw any signs of a girlfriend at that point, either, even though apparently he had one. I remember it was a Friday in June. Ben—at least I thought it was Ben—came to me in the morning with coffee and a bag from Grindhouse, which he never did. I mean, not that I’m complaining or anything, because that was part of my job.” Brent’s hands resumed shaking.

I shuffled closer.

“When I opened the bag, I found a note.” A jerk of his body shook the sofa. “I feel so stupid!”

I took the wine from his hand and set it on the table. Jaw flexing, he drew up his knees again and rocked. Unsure what to do, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and rested my head against his.

After giving him a few moments, I squeezed his arm and spoke with a soft voice. “What did the note say?”

After flipping his hair back, his face contorted into mock hoity-toity. “It said that I was lovely and he’d like to meet me at the Quincy hotel at eight that night.” His matter-of-fact tone didn’t cover the hurt.

My eyelids clamped down tight. “Oh shit on a mother-loving stick. You thought Ben was asking you out but Richard wrote the note.” Struck by a horrible thought, I sat back and stared at Brent. “Tell me he didn’t—”

“No!” He held up his hand, his pale face drawn tight. “Nothing like that. He didn’t touch me, not really.”

Wrinkles formed in my brow. “But … if he didn’t touch you, then…” I gasped at the terrible idea forming. “Richard wanted a witness. You do know what happened to Ben’s girlfriend because you were there.”

Brent’s shrinking posture and arms clamped tighter around his knees gave answer enough. One tear dripped from his light lashes.

“Oh jeez, I’m sorry.” My throat constricted as I hugged him. “This is horrible, but I need to know.”

He nodded and sat back, wiped his eyes. “I know, and I suppose after all this time I’m sort of relieved to tell it to someone. Anyway, I went to the hotel after spending hours doing myself up for him. I’d never been so excited about a date in my entire life.” A strangled laugh cleared his lips. “I mean, come on, who wouldn’t want to date the rich and powerful Ben Hathaway, forget his to-die-for looks.” His smile faltered. “When I got there, he seemed different, more aggressive. He threw me on the bed, which I kind of like, not that it matters, but then he ch-choked me.

“He shoved a video camera into my hand and told me to get into the closet, that he was waiting for a guest. He said no matter what happened or what I saw, I had to video the whole thing or he’d … he’d kill me.”

“Fuck.” I rested my elbow against the back of the sofa and leaned my head against it. “And you still thought it was Ben?”

“Yeah, until—you know—after.”

“After what?”

Brent hugged himself and rubbed his arms as if he was cold. “A woman came to the door. She was all over him, and he was sweet with her at first. She said it was the first time she’d ever seen him outside his office.” He shuddered so hard the aftershocks rumbled through the couch to my butt. “I remember Richard’s face then, all twisted up at the mention of Ben. She was so busy unbuckling his pants she never noticed. Then he, uh … punched her right in the face. I’ll never forget the sound, like he’d broken her nose, a sick, wet, snapping sound. He slapped her and bit her while she screamed. She left all bruised and crying, saying she’d call the police.”

“Oh hell!” I lurched forward. “She still thought it was Ben.”

“Yeah, and I had the whole thing on video.”

I halted my spinning mind for a moment. “But … is that all he wanted you there for, to run the camera?”

He shook his head. “He wanted me as an alibi. He said when the police came around I was to say he and I spent the night together at his place in the suburbs.”

“And Ben would have been alone in his office with no alibi.” I slumped against the sofa. No wonder the guy had issues. “Did the police come?”

“Yeah, and I lied to them, told them what I was supposed to so Richard wouldn’t hurt me.” Grunting with frustration, Brent slammed his palm against the cushion. “Why do I have to be such a coward? I should have bucked up and told them everything, and maybe things would be different now.”

“You’re not a coward, Brent. Of all people you could be afraid of, it’s definitely him.” Bumping my shoulder against his, I asked, “Does Ben know you’re the one who vouched for Richard?”

“If he does, he never said anything about it.” Brent swallowed. “Do you think that’s why he’s such a dick to me now? Because he knows?”

I patted his arm and shrugged. “Ben knows how his brother is, so if he does know you gave Richard an alibi, he probably understands that he threatened you.”

A tiny smile arched Brent’s lips. “He’s much nicer than he pretends to be, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is, but don’t you dare tell him I said that. I mean, the guy has some serious issues, but when he and I are alone…” With a groan, I pulled a pillow from the corner of the sofa and hugged it as memories from our night together surrounded me in his scent, his touch, the sound of his velvet voice talking dirty to me. I needed to get back to him. My everything ached for his presence, but I needed to know a few more things first. “So why isn’t Ben in jail?”

“His mother stepped in and kept him out, but I heard she made him take some sort of anger-management class.”

Damn. How insulting. No way I’d have been able to resist not punching that hag in the chops.

I jumped up, staring at the chaos inside my own head. “His mother. Oh, God, it’s so simple it’s perfect.” I paced back and forth in front of the sofa, twisting a bunch of my hair in my hands with a growing smirk. “She’s the key to undoing Richard.”

A half hour later, I arrived back in Ben’s apartment. I found him pacing back and forth just inside the doorway. When his gaze found me, he rushed forward and scooped me into his arms. “Thank the stars you’re all right.”

“Yeah, about that … I think I’ve figured out how we can stop Richard.”

Ben backed away, stared at me for a while before he went and sat on the sofa, deflated as if someone had let the air out of him. Slouched forward and elbows on his knees, he folded the fingers of one hand over the balled fist of the other. “If it puts you in danger, the answer is no.”

The sharpness of his tone made me flinch. Lips curving down, I sat in the chair across from him. “Will you at least hear what I have to say before you shut the door in my face?”

The hard line of his lips softened and he gave a quick nod.

I told him Richard had been at the coffee shop. “What happens every time someone calls the police to report your brother?”

His hands clamped tighter together and his eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Mother intervenes.” Eyes flickering with interest, he shifted forward.

“Right. Now, what happens if we take your mother out of the equation?” I smiled at my own ingenious.

A bitter laugh rushed through his lips. He sat back and shook his head. “I’ve told her countless times what he is, but Richard has her twisted around his crooked fingers so completely she’ll never believe me. She’ll never let him go to jail.”

“What if she sees for herself what a complete sociopath he is?”

The heat from Ben’s glare prickled my skin. “And how would we manage that?”

I held my hands up. “Do you promise to let me finish before you react?”

He shot up, a frustrated growl rumbling his chest. “Fine. I’ll listen, but I don’t like the look in your eyes.”

I stood so I didn’t have to crane my neck to look at him. “Call Richard. Tell him to meet you here Friday night, that you agree to give him what he wants. Arrange to have your mother here—just make up an excuse. Tuck her away in an office upstairs. When Richard gets here, you reneg and I get caught in the crossfire.”

“No! Have you lost your mind?” His finger jabbed in my direction. “Absolutely not! He could be armed, and he’ll never do anything where there are cameras on, anyway. I won’t let him near you.” Fingers jammed in his hair, he stomped back and forth, muttering to himself.

“Then make a show of shutting the cameras off. We’ll set up one he doesn’t know about and run the feed into where your mother is. You can have as much security hidden up here as you want. This will work, Ben. I know it will.”

Ben stopped and grabbed me by the face with shaking hands. “I’d rather die than let him touch you again.”

“Unless you have another plan, this is what we’re doing.”

“No.”

“I won’t live in hiding for the rest of my life, Ben. I won’t let you do it, either, even if I have to arrange this all myself somehow.”

We stood in silence for a while. The slump of his shoulders suggested I’d win the argument eventually if I kept at him.

My stomach knotted as I imagined what he’d gone through in his life. I backed away and stared past him.

“There’s something else.” His tone softened, filled with concern.

I gave a halfhearted smile while I tried to assemble my thoughts. I steeled myself against his reaction. “It’s just … thinking about what Richard did to you and what your life has been like, I feel like a whiner all of a sudden. Compared to yours, my family looks like the fucking Brady bunch.” I sighed. “I told you I’d never lie to you, and I meant it, so I need to tell you something. I know what Richard did to your last girlfriend.”

He straightened, his arms ramrod straight at his sides, fingers curled into fists. “Brent told you about Diane?” The words came out like a snarl, low and hoarse.

“So, you did know it was him who gave Richard an alibi?”

Ben gave a curt nod.

“Your brother threatened to kill him. He’s still terrified and feels horrible that he let you down.” I moved closer with tentative steps. “I think you know that too, don’t you? That’s why you didn’t fire him.”

Jaw clenched, Ben backed away and rubbed his forehead. His chest rose and fell deeper. “Why are we talking about this?”

“I told you. I don’t want anything like that to stand between us. Everyone needs to know the truth, Ben, that you didn’t hurt her.”

“But I did! Richard hurt her because of me, and now he’ll do the same to you.” He pressed the balls of his hands over his eyes. “This is intolerable.”

“Do this with me and he won’t hurt anyone again.”

He reached a hand toward me, let it drop back to his side. His hands went to his hips and his head tilted forward. “This is insanity.”

“Promise me you’ll call your mother tomorrow and set everything up.”

The glance he shot in my direction didn’t encourage me. “You must be tired. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

Yeah, I just bet we will.
Still stinging from my conversation with Dad, and my frustration building like a volcano about to erupt, I stomped past him. If he wouldn’t agree, I’d figure out how to do it on my own.

I found Ben’s side of the bed cold when I woke up. A weight sat on my chest as I showered and dressed. Had I really expected the good stuff to last? We had, what, a whole three days? Judging by the pain in my heart, I had expected the honeymoon to linger for a while. Still, I wouldn’t let Richard get away with anything else. I didn’t want my relationship with Ben to be over, but if I had to choose, I’d rather save him from his evil twin and be able to look myself in the mirror for the rest of my life than to have mind-blowing sex and cuddles.

The day dragged by as I went from one work request to another, fixing blue screens of death, broken network connections, one idiot who tried to delete his operating system. No amount of staring at Ben’s red iPhone made it ring, and my pride kept me from calling him.

At quarter after four, I called Brent.

“Mr. Hathaway’s office, this is Brent Montgomery.”

“Hey, would you be able to drive me to my mom’s place after work?”

“Yeah, absolutely. She’s on Ravenwood, right?”

“Yep.”

“That’s right on my way home.” Silence for a moment. “Mr. H. doesn’t know you’re going, does he? That’s why you’re asking me, right?”

Annoyed at his powers of observation, I groaned. “I’ll text him from the car.”

“So I guess he didn’t go for your plan?”

“Not exactly. I just can’t stay with him tonight, so I’ll stay with Mom.”

“Okies. Meet me at the front doors in fifteen minutes.”

I took a few minutes to update the work orders for the crap I’d done that day before I grabbed my jacket and headed down to the lobby.

Brent glowered at a security guard who towered over him. “What do you mean I can’t leave?”

I jogged the rest of the way to them. “What’s going on?”

“Mr. Hathaway’s orders, ma’am,” the guard said. The driver’s gold nameplate read Bill. Dark blond hair showed beneath his peaked officer-style hat. “I’m to take you anywhere you want to go.”

“Fuck.” How Ben had heard about me asking Brent I’d never know. Probably had a few secret cameras hidden in my clothes somewhere. I knew better than to argue with Ben’s lackeys. They revered him like a god.

Bill led me down the stairs toward a shining black limo waiting at the curb. The instant I clued in it was Ben’s car meant to take me to Mom’s, a queasy surge rolled in my stomach.
You’ve got to be kidding me
.

“Please tell me that’s not a stretch Porsche.”

Eyes narrowed, Bill opened the back door and leaned against the car. “How do you know what kind of car this is?”

I shrugged. “I read a car magazine in the doctor’s office once.” Visions of my father watching me pull up in the ridiculous vehicle hurt my head. “Don’t you have another car, like a Toyota Corolla or something normal people drive?”

He smiled. “Sorry, no-can-do. Mr. Hathaway asked for this one specifically, and his word is law.” He gestured toward the door. “Shall we go?”