Page 60 of Owned (Office Intrigue Duet 8)
That it was.
“At least I didn’t.” Braelyn took a small bite, chewed, her gaze roaming her plate, the table. Directed everywhere but at me. “Ransom was allowed to go to public school, but my parents had me homeschooled. And they were weird about it. Like it was important they kept me sheltered, away from other kids. They never told me why, but I was a perceptive child. I could hear them talking, knew they considered me a bargaining chip. I asked Ransom about it once.” She looked up briefly. “He told me not to worry about it, promised he would never let anything happen to me. I believed him because that was what he did. He watched over me.”
“He’s a good brother,” I said, simply to keep her talking.
“He is.” Her eyes were sad. “There were always so many people at our house. Usually men. They worked for my parents. Soldiers, they called them. Hell, they had weird titles for all of them. Names you hear in Mafia movies. I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what they did. Organized crime, my father liked to spout. The most profitable business on the planet.”
I smiled. Little did they know.
Braelyn huffed, took a sip of wine. “They were assholes is what they were. All of them. Not only the men who crudely looked at me when they were around. My parents, too. I didn’t understand it completely at the time, but they disgusted me. My mother … she was the worst. I think she believed she was in charge. Maybe she was. The men who worked for them sure didn’t have a problem with her and her rotating bedroom door. And my father didn’t seem to give a shit who was banging my mother. He had his own side pieces, some of them willing, others who looked as though they didn’t know their own names much less how they’d ended up beneath my father.”
Her turn of phrase surprised me. I’d gotten the impression Braelyn thought carefully before she spoke, kept most of her feelings to herself. I liked that she was so open, so blunt.
Braelyn shuddered, but, ignoring the strange urge to reach for her, I let her continue.
“No matter what they called themselves, at their core, my parents are just evil. There’s no disguising it, no dressing it up. I studied up on them as I got older, learned of the unspeakable things they did in their quest for power. Accusations, of course. Someone’s protecting them, maybe a lot of someones, because they’re still walking free. The one thing that’s never changed is they’re feared by many. Sometimes I think even the cops fear them.”
More like they had some in their pocket. It was common practice amongst those who engaged in organized crime.
“Why did Ransom take you away from there?” I knew there was something more to the story than it was simply a tense environment.
She looked up once again, but only briefly before she turned her attention back to the food she was once again shifting around on her plate. “At the time, he said he had to. Right after we left, I didn’t really think anything of it. Figured Ransom hated them as much as I did and didn’t want to live that life. It wasn’t until a couple of months after we left when I started having nightmares. Only, I don’t think they were figments of my imagination. I think they were memories.”
“Does Ransom know?”
She nodded. “Yeah. But I’ve never told him what they were about. Didn’t want him to worry. He’d already saved me. There was no need to add more stress to our already complicated lives. So I kept them to myself. The man who had haunted those nightmares couldn’t touch me. At least, I didn’t think he could.”
That revelation had me sitting up straight. “What man?”
Braelyn’s gaze moved over my face as she sipped her wine. I could tell she was trying to determine whether or not she wanted me to know. Wise move. Because what she told me next would likely alter the life of at least one man when I pinpointed where he was.
“His name’s Jimmy,” she finally said, her eyes going cold. “He’s the man I was running from last night. I don’t know his last name. Ransom probably does. My parents called him Kill Switch.” Her lip curled in obvious distaste. “He was always around, always lurking. He creeped me out. I can still remember the way he smelled. Like cigarettes and liquor. The fact that I can tells me he was around way too much.”
“Did he touch you?”
“You mean last night? Or ever?”
Anger bloomed. “Does it matter?”
“No, he didn’t. Not the way you mean.” Her eyes were wide now, raw honesty on her face. “Last night, he stalked me like prey. I think he was playing a game, and he didn’t expect me to have any moves to make.”
