Chicks, Man

“Dad, she needs help. I need you to help her.”

“Don’t you dare touch me, you monster!” I spit out, using most of my energy.

Benjamin eyes me with contempt for a quick moment before he speaks. “Don’t worry. I don’t plan on it.” He cocks his head back to his son. “Clean this up. Burn the house down for all I care. Make it look like an accident. Two ladies catching up over tea when a glitch in the stove causes the house to blow up in flames.”

Braydon’s horrified expression mirrors mine. “What? No, Dad. I won’t. Not with her in it. She’s coming with me,” he pleads with this father. “Please, just help her. I’ll make sure this doesn’t fall on us. Without that bitch over there, we’re as good as free anyhow. I’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

What has Braydon done?

The scary manic expression he holds in his gaze says it all. Levi’s suspicions have been right all along. The person threatening Clara has been Braydon. His hands are just as dirty as his father’s.

I’m going to be sick.

My stomach convulses, sending a throbbing spasm to spiral down my side. “You…” I choke out, “you’re the one who messed with all the files.”

Something inside him shuts down. Gone is the Braydon who cares, in its wake a blank stare. “I did what had to be done.”

“Had to be done? Allowing people to die?”

He takes a menacing step toward me, his shoulders trembling in unexpected anger. “I protected my future. Miller Industries will one day be all mine, and your father and his company tried to take that away from me. So yes, I did what had to be done.”

The missing files.

Changes in log-in information.

“It was you. You changed all the information in the system. Deleted the testimonies.” How did he get away without anyone putting two and two together he was Benjamin Miller’s son? “Why? For what? You haven’t helped your future, you’ve killed it. A law school degree? You won’t ever practice unless it’s from a jail cell!”

Braydon starts to laugh, and his father joins in. “What law degree?”

My eyes pop wider, my head bobbing back and forth between father and son. “I don’t understand?”

Braydon starts first, filling in the blanks. “No law degree, just a genius at hacking a system. It was simple. All I had to do was hack into Matthews and Associates server and create my profile. Make it appear like Braydon Connor went through the interviewing process and was set to start. No one even batted an eye on my first day.”

“How were you able to complete your cases? You knew what you were talking about—”

Braydon, or whoever he is, shrugs with ease. “Before you came along, I’d been sleeping with Christine on my team. Seems all it takes to have someone else do your workload is a cheap dinner and sex.” He realizes what he confesses and leaps at me, bending down on one knee, pressing his face within inches of mine. “But understand, this was before you came along. I was supposed to set you up. But I couldn’t. You were just so perfect. So, I changed routes and set him up.”

My foggy head can’t comprehend the insanity he’s feeding me. I can’t grasp what he’s confessing. Panic resonates deep in my chest, and I start to hyperventilate. My heart thumps like a steel drum, my pulse throbbing in my ears. I attempt to scream, but only end up choking on my own breath. Pain shoots from my side, and I howl in anguish. Whatever sort of bandage Braydon put there dislodges from my wound, and I feel the open air saturate the cut, blood dripping down my side.

I need to calm down or my own primal fear will kill me before this injury will. A few staggered breaths, and I turn my focus on Braydon. “Listen…” I cough. “Just let me go. Please. I know you don’t want to hurt me—”

“You foolish girl. How do you think this ends? My son falling for your sweet, innocent girl act and you living to see tomorrow?” He throws his head back, a sadistic laugh barreling up his throat. “My son may be smart in some aspects, but when it comes to women, not so much. He has a tendency to let his weak little heart overrun his logic. As much as I find it cute, you’re not going anywhere.” He turns to his son. “Now, say your goodbyes and finish what you started. I’m too close to being done with this nonsense.” Without another word, he walks to the kitchen, stepping over Clara as if she’s nothing, and exits out the back door. I search for a reassuring sign in Braydon’s eyes, but they suddenly seem void of emotion. As if something in him snaps, he turns a switch. He nods to himself, no longer acknowledging me, and starts to move around the house, knocking things over, searching for something.