Fleeting Moments (21 page)

“He wants to kill you,” Johnny growls.

“He thinks that’s the only way he can be saved and also save your other brothers. He said God spoke to him in a dream and told him that’s what had to happen,” I say, my voice laced with disgust.

“Sick fuck,” Blake mutters.

“So he’s trying to draw you back in.” Sheldon grunts, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes,” I confirm. “He truly delusional.”

“We had him,” Tank growls, glaring at me.

“You know what?” I snap, furious at his hatred for me. “Shut your mouth, Tank.”

The table falls silent.

“What did you say?” Tank hisses.

“I didn’t mean any harm. I had no idea what he was involved in and if I had, I would have never searched for him. I didn’t do it out of selfishness. You look at me, and you don’t see anything but what you want. I’m not a bad person, and I’m sick to death of you making me out to be one because of your problems.”

He stands and leans over the table. Heath launches out of his chair, but I put a hand up.

“Watch it,” Tank snarls, glaring right through me.

“No,” I say, standing and getting in his face. “I love him. I don’t care if you like that or you don’t. I don’t care if you think I should be here or I shouldn’t. I’m here, and there isn’t a single thing you can do about that. If you want to hate me forever, then so be it, but I will not tolerate being abused by you any longer.”

“Atta girl.” Sheldon grins. “Tell him.”

“Back down, Tank,” Heath growls, taking my shoulder and pulling me back.

Tank jerks his eyes away from me, then looks to Heath. Then, he turns and storms out of the room.

My heart is racing by the time I turn and face Heath. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to cause any problems.”

“I know that,” he says gently, stroking a thumb over my cheek. “He deserved that.”

“Now that’s out of the way,” Johnny says, standing, “what are we going to do about Josh?”

“He’ll be plotting another way to get to us, but for the police to shut down what they’re doing there they need proof of a crime. Right now, it’s just Lucy’s word.”

“They killed people in a stadium!” I cry.

“Yeah, they did. And they arrested the ones who were involved in that, but as for the others, there is no proof they were involved, and they cannot arrest them for being associated with the people who carried out the attack.”

I blink. “But . . . Josh is behind all of that.”

“Yeah, and he’s smart. He claimed that he doesn’t instruct his followers—that they do what they believe is right from their own beliefs. He just guides them. He claims that he had no idea about the attack.”

“But it was widely known the group wanted that land . . .”

“Yes, it was, but there is no direct link to him and that confrontation with the city. Again, they arrested the men who were fighting for the grounds. Josh has kept himself clean, claiming that while God has told him he needs that land, he did not instruct an attack. Unless the cops can find proof against him, they can’t arrest him. The people arrested took full responsibility. He’s not stupid—he has them warped to do his dirty work and believe that they’ll be saved for doing it.”

“That’s so wrong!” I cry. “So wrong. He should be arrested.”

“The law is fucked up, baby,” Heath says. “The only way to shut down what he’s doing there is to have proof of a crime that affects them all, otherwise they’re just believers we can’t touch.”

Angry tears burn under my eyelids. This man is committing crime after crime and getting away with it. “He kidnapped me, does that not count?”

“He did, but if we move to the cops now and tell them that, it could blow everything up before we’re ready and he could make a runner and start somewhere else. We need to be careful about this.”

“They’re raping girls there,” I whisper, swiping the tears away. “I know they are. Underage girls.”

“I know they are. That’s what we were hoping to go with, but we need the right kind of evidence to make sure when he goes down, he can’t get back up. If it’s half assed, he’ll just get away with it and do it again.”

“Have you spoken to the girls?”

He shakes his head. “They can’t speak to those girls without parental supervision even if they have solid grounds to stand on. Right now, they’re only assuming they’re being raped. The police are doing what they can.”

“I can get proof,” I say. “I can get it.”

All eyes turn to me.

“And how do you expect to do that?” Heath says.

I rub my cast. “I’ll go back in.”

“No,” Heath barks.

“Not a good idea,” Blake mutters.

“I say hear her out,” Sheldon carefully adds.

“I’m with Sheldon,” Johnny says, holding Heath’s eyes.

“He knows she’s with me. He’s not going to let her go back in without hurting her,” Heath argues, his fists clenched. “No.”

“He will if he believes she wants to join him,” Sheldon adds.

Heath glares at him. “No fucking way.”

“He’s watching—he’s always watching,” I say softly. “All it’ll take is for him to witness a fight between us and for me to turn up there. It might take a little time, but I think he’ll believe me after a while. I can make him believe me.”

“Even if that’s the case,” Blake says, “how do you think you’re going to prove there are underage girls being raped?”

“I’ll take a video camera, or a voice recorder. I’ll get close to the girls. I’ll get confessions. I’ll get what I need, and then we’ll have proof.”

“No way. It’s too fucking dangerous,” Heath snaps. “Not going to happen.”

“We’ve got no other option right now, bro,” Johnny says. “The cops aren’t going to get close, you’re not going to get close—none of us have any fuckin’ chance of getting close except her.”

“Josh isn’t stupid,” Heath barks. “He’ll know she’s pretending.”

“For a while, he may suspect that but if she plays along he’ll believe her. He thinks he can change anyone.”

“He’s right,” I say, reaching out for Heath’s hand, but he jerks it away. “Heath . . .”

“I’m not risking you. End of fucking story.” He turns and storms into his room.

I sigh and look to the guys. “Let me talk to him.”

“Convince him,” Johnny says, standing and grabbing a packet of smokes from the table. “It’s our only chance.”

I hold his eyes and nod. He returns it.

Then I turn and glance at the bedroom.
Here goes nothing.

~*~*~*~

“H
ey,” I say, stepping into the room.

Heath stands by the window, staring out, his arms crossed over his chest, his body tight. I walk over and put my hand on his shoulder, leaning in and pressing my cheek against his back.

“It’s not going to happen, Lucy,” he mumbles.

“You might not like it, but you and I both know it’s the only choice we have.”

He turns around and stares down at me, his face tight. “No, it isn’t the only choice.”

“You give me another one, and I’ll back down,” I challenge.

His jaw tics. “I’ll go and end the fucker myself.”

“And go to jail?”

He growls.

“Or get killed?”

“Fuck, Lucy. You’re asking me to risk your life.”

“He won’t kill me,” I say, but I’m not entirely sure I believe that.

“Until the holy one above tells him that’s what he has to do.”

I reach up and cup Heath’s jaw. “He’s not going to kill me if he believes I’m on his side.”

“He won’t believe it.”

“
He will
.”

He shakes his head. “No, he’s fuckin’ smart. He won’t fall for it.”

“If we make it believable enough he will, Heath.”

“Fuck me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not okay with this.”

“I’ll be alright.”

“You have a broken fuckin’ wrist. You get stuck in there, you won’t be getting out so easily again.”

“Except this time you’re going to be right there, watching me.”

“I don’t like it,” he snaps.

“Heath, please,” I say softly. “I was there that day; I saw the lives taken. I need to do this. I need to do this for them, for the girls in there who have no choice. I need this.”

He looks away, his face so twisted with emotion it hurts me to see.

“Please,” I whisper.

“Dammit, baby,” he says, his voice weak. “I don’t like it.”

“I’m not asking you to,” I say, reaching up and cupping his face, turning it back towards me. “But I am asking you to support me on this.”

He exhales and turns his cheek into my palm. “I’m not getting a choice, am I?”

“No.”

He curls a hand around the back of my head and brings my face to his chest. I curl my arm around his waist and we stand there, hanging onto each other for long, long moments.

“I’ll do it,” he says into my hair, “but I am not okay with it.”

“I know that,” I whisper.

“Don’t you let him hurt you.”

“He won’t.”

He kisses my forehead and pulls back. “Let’s get this show on the road then.”

“There’s something I have to do first,” I say, dreading it.

“What’s that?”

“I have to go to mediation with Gerard tomorrow.”

He exhales loudly. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You need me to do anything?”

I look up at him, studying his beautiful features. “Just be you.”

He smiles. “Always.”

Always.

I hope so.

“W
elcome, ma’am,” greets the mediator. He’s an older gentleman, maybe in his early sixties, and he’s got really deep brown eyes. He quickly puts me more at ease with a gentle handshake and sweet smile. “I’m Clive.”

I step into his office and glance at Gerard and Heather. My jaw gets tight but I keep my cool. Gerard takes one look at me and leaps up. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Gerard,” Heather says, her mouth tight. “Sit down.”

He sits, but concern is etched into his features.

“I’m fine. I had an accident with a fence,” I say, and it’s the truth.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

I smile weakly.

“Gerard,” Heather hisses.

He looks away and back to Clive, who is studying all of us.

“Please take a seat, Lucy,” he says in a fatherly tone. “Do you have anyone with you?”

Heather snorts. “Did you bring your imaginary friend?”

I want to beat her. I really,
really
want to beat her.

“No,” I say through clenched teeth. “I don’t have anyone here with me.”

“Then shall we begin?”

I nod and avoid eye contact with Gerard as I sit across from him and listen.

“We’re here to basically try and avoid a messy divorce and time in court. My job is to help talk you through all of this so we can come to a clean agreement and have you both moving on as quickly as possible. We’ll start with the house, shall we?”

I nod.

Gerard nods.

“Lucy, what are your thoughts on this?”

I glance at Clive and take him in. He genuinely seems kind and fair.

“I thought I’d like to keep the house, but lately, I’ve considered selling it.”

It’s a thought I’ve given serious time to. Living in the house I shared with Gerard for all those years just seems . . .
wrong.

“And you’re willing to split the proceeds of the sale with Gerard?”

“Of course she is. She has to,” Heather snaps.

“Ma’am,” Clive says. “Please refrain from speaking unless directly spoken to.”

Ha. Sucked in, bitch.

She clamps her mouth closed and glares at me.

“Of course I’m agreeable to a split,” I say. “It’s his home, too.”

“The split, without children, is usually fifty/fifty.”

“Her parents helped purchase the house,” Gerard says. “I think she should get sixty percent.”

“Gerard!” Heather snaps.

“It’s fair,” he mutters, not looking at her.

“And are you okay with this, Lucy?” Clive asks.

“Yes,” I say, studying my hand.

“Very good. The next thing will be any furniture—possessions, vehicles, things like that.”

“I’ve taken all my possessions,” Gerard says.

“And you’re okay with what he’s taken?” Clive asks.

“Yes,” I say, my voice monotone.

“And vehicles?” he continues.

“There’s been somewhat of a debate over vehicles,” I say, finally making eye contact with Gerard who is studying me.

“Would you like to explain?” Clive prompts.

“It’s his car,” Heather says.

Jesus. She just can’t shut up.

“Is this correct?” Clive asks Gerard.

“Yes, it’s my car, but I have a work car so left it with Lucy.”

“And then tried to take it back,” I mutter.

“That’s because his work car might not last, and he’ll need something else,” Heather throws at me.

“My god,” I growl. “Will you just shut the hell up?”

“Why? Are you scared about what I’ll reveal?” she fires back.

“There’s nothing to reveal!”

She looks to Clive. “She was having an affair before the split.”

“That certainly changes things,” he says, looking to me. “Is this true?”

“No!” I state strongly. “I was not having an affair.”

“She’s lying. She’s also mentally unstable, claiming to see someone that isn’t there. I think it should be requested that she has a full psychological assessment before anything is signed.”

“Thank you for your input, Heather—” Clive begins, but I cut him off.

“I am not crazy. I was not having an affair. And I’m sick to death of you interfering in this business, which is not yours.”

“You are crazy!” she screams.

“Ladies . . .”

A knock sounds at the door. We all go quiet.

“Yes?” Clive says, his voice tired.

“Sorry to bother you,” the receptionist says, popping her head in. “There’s a man here; he’s with the police. He said it’s important he steps in on this mediation.”

“What?” Heather gasps. “Why is a police officer here?”

Yes, why is a police officer here? My heart pounds.

“Let him in.”

I glance at the door and my entire world spins as Heath steps in, looking like heaven and hell and everything beautiful in this world. My bottom lip trembles as his eyes find mine, then he walks over to the table and stops, glaring at Heather and Gerard.