“It never happened. No investigation will take place,” Rellik tells them.
He lets out a curse. “I can’t make that go away.”
“But you can,” Dax argues. “Or these documents will be uploaded all over social media. You know the media along with the people will be pissed once they find out you lied about the condition they found Brenda’s body in.”
“Or how it was really Scout who fucked and killed Brenda,” Rellik adds.
I place my hands behind my head, relaxing into the couch cushion. “We’re not giving you a fucking penny.” I shake my head, making sure they understand that we’re not buying their silence. “But we will publicly shame you. Just like what you allowed to happen to Henley. You will no longer work here or anywhere else, for that matter. And who the hell knows how many other cases were won because of bribes. I’d hate for there to be an investigation on you and what all would be found.”
That’s the kicker. There is no telling how deep of a hole they have dug for themselves.
“I have to tell the people something,” he grinds out.
I shrug. “Tell them whatever the fuck you want as long as it’s not the truth.”
His teeth grind, but after a second, he finally nods. “Done.”
“Oh, and Henley is alive,” I say, and their faces pale. “So, you need to call the sheriff and have him take James’s statement about how he found his daughter. That should be the only headlines for the next few weeks.”
EPILOGUE
GRAYSON LAW
Three weeks later
I MAKE MY way upstairs and open my bedroom door, frowning when I don’t see Henley in my room. I go across the hall to hers. She sits on her bed with her cell in her hand. Looking up, she narrows her eyes at me. “You’re in trouble.”
I smirk, dropping my backpack and crawling onto her bed. “That sounds like fun.”
“I’m serious.” She pushes on my chest. I roll onto my back, and she straddles my hips, her long dark hair falling over her shoulders to cover my chest. “Why did you do this?” She shoves her cell in my face, and I see the video she was watching.
It’s of me at Death Valley, getting my ass kicked by Scout in the middle of the Graveyard. I roll my eyes. “Why are you watching that shit?” She hasn’t been on social media after her public apology because people still think she’s missing, even after her father’s public statement that she’s alive and well, but Lacey has been sending her shit.
She slaps my chest. “You don’t fight because of your hands.”
“Doll …”
“You could have been seriously injured. That was stupid, Law!” she growls. “Because of your future in football. You could have ruined that.”
I rip the cell from her hand and throw it across the room, hearing it land on her rug.
“Hey …”
I grip her face in my hands, pulling her down to me and cutting her off. “You are my future, little doll.” Then I press my lips to her. She opens up for me, giving me a little taste of what forever is going to feel like.
We haven’t had sex since she found out that Scout allowed Steve to rape her and recorded it for blackmail. I don’t push it, and she hasn’t initiated it. She sleeps in my bed every night, cuddled up to my side. That’s all I need.
It feels like I waited a lifetime for my chance to love her, so I can wait a lifetime to fuck her. I’m a patient man.
She pulls away and reaches down, lifting her shirt up and over her head. I notice she’s wearing the black choker I gave her to wear for the Monroe fundraiser. “Doll …”
“I’m ready, Law.” She places her hands on my chest. Biting her bottom lip, she rolls it between her teeth. “Please.”
I lift my hands to my hair at her words. That inner demon roars to life, yelling to fuck my doll. To own her. To show her that I’m the only man who will ever lay hands on her again. But a small voice tells me she’s not ready for that just yet. My hard cock straining painfully in my now tight jeans tells me what side he’s for.
Reaching behind, she undoes her bra, then tosses it to land by her phone. Then she places her hands under my shirt and runs her nails down my chest and stomach, making my abs flex. “Doll …” I groan, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
Her lips caress my skin.
Lifting my head, I look down at her. She’s staring up at me through her long, dark lashes with a smile. Her lips softly pressing kisses on my stomach while her hands start to fumble with my belt.
I grip her wrists, stopping her.