Love Me (Trust Series #2) (27 page)

“That would probably be fun. It’d be our first purchase together.”

Damien’s phone rings as I take a sip of my coffee. It’s more than likely one of the managers.

He starts talking to the person on the other line. “Frank, I’d like to move all my meetings today to the stadium near Alli’s shoot. Yes, it’s been a bit over the top. Yes. I appreciate it.”

He hangs up the phone and then continues our earlier conversation, regarding real estate. “Do you know what you want to do with your parents’ farm?”

Oh, this is going to be fun.
“Don’t you mean our parents’ farm?”

I pull my left hand in front of my face and move my fingers as I look at my wedding ring. I casually continue, “I mean, I thought when we got married, everything became
ours
—or that’s what I’ve been adamantly told.”

He chuckles because he knows I’m throwing his words back in his face.

Like my mom always said,
What’s good for the goose is good for the gander—as far as I’m concerned, Alli.

“Touché, Alli, touché. So, do you have any suggestions about what you want to do with our farm?”

“Honestly, no. For now, I figured we could just keep letting the Andersons live there in exchange for the upkeep of the place.”

He takes a sip of his coffee as his blue eyes dance with amusement. His phone rings, and his brow creases as he picks it up. “Wales. Yes, that’s fine. I’m in the breakfast room with Alli.” He hangs up the phone and answers my questioning look. “Bane has some updates and wants to talk.”

My nerves immediately go on edge as I give my head a quick shake, up and down. A few moments later, Bane walks into the room, all businesslike, and he sits down next to Damien.

Bane clears his throat. “Mr. and Mrs. Wales.” He doesn’t give us time to respond as he continues, “Since arriving to North Carolina, I’ve been able to do more extensive research. Through Rebecca’s medical records, I have confirmed that she was with child.”

Damien looks completely shocked. “Are you sure?”

Banes nods. “Yes, sir. I have a copy of the records right here.”

He pushes a manila folder toward Damien.

How in the world does he get this kind of stuff?

Scratch that thought. Honestly, I don’t want to know.

I immediately work on forgetting the question.

Damien opens the folder, and his brows scrunch at what he is reading. “Wait, this has my mother’s signature for the payment. She never mentioned Becky was pregnant after she disappeared. I’m certain of it.”

Bane remains impassive as he responds, “Sir, a lot of money was paid to have these records sealed. That’s why it took me so long to uncover the truth.”

Damien continues to look at the files. “Do we know whom Becky was dating?”

“No, but I believe your parents paid off the gentleman to remain silent. Four days after she disappeared, a sizeable payoff from their account was made to an account overseas. I believe this is why we needed to uncover this information prior to getting the diary Martin talked about.”

The news causes me to suck in a harsh breath. I have no words as my mind spins out of control from Bane’s discovery. Damien’s parents, Meredith and Jon, could have potentially funded the killer for all these years. That money allowed him to continue to torture and watch Damien as he waited for the right moment to strike again.

Damien looks utterly lost for a moment before his expression and tone change to anger. “Is there anything else that was true from the article?”

Bane folds his hands on the table. “Those are the only two facts that you were not already aware of. Nothing else checked out.”

I mentally sigh. I’m so glad the allegations of Rebecca’s drug use and prostitution among the other horrible things on the list aren’t true. Even though being pregnant and having a mystery lover isn’t as bad as what could have been true from the newspaper article, it’s somehow worse with the fact that his parents hid information from Damien.

I mentally groan as I think about the function at his parents’ house this weekend. Damien arranged it prior to us coming here counting on the fact that Bane would figure out the next clue. Since Damien rarely sees his parents, except at social functions, it would seem odd for an impromptu meeting.

Damien passes the manila envelope back to Bane. “Thank you, Bane. Let me know if you find anything else. I’ll contact Martin like we used to do as children when we get there.”

Bane stands. “Sir, if I may, I suggest that you and Mrs. Wales stay the night there to avoid traveling late at night. It’ll give you and me time to look around without being obvious. I’ll have the premises secured. That way, we can investigate after the guests go home just in case you are being watched.”

I know my eyes go wide at the suggestion, but I work on reining it in.
A night in the house of my in-laws, who don’t care for me, is probably not going to rank as one of my favorite times. Geez, can we say awkward?

Damien, of course, is watching me closely. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Putting my reservations aside, I try to placate his hesitation for going along with Bane’s plan. “Damien, I’ll be fine. It’s one night. Bane is right. We need to get the diary as inconspicuously as possible. Otherwise, we are going to lose time before we can legitimately go out to your parents’ again without looking suspicious.”

He looks at me for a second before turning back to Bane. “I’ll set it up with my mother. Make sure security measures are precisely followed. No fuck-ups, Bane.”

“Yes, sir.” Bane grabs the folder.

Damien says, “Bane, excellent work. Thank you for all you have done for my wife and me.”

Mr. Badass gives a slight smile. “We will find this guy, Mr. Wales.”

With that, he leaves the room, leaving Damien and me to our breakfast.

All of a sudden, I’m not hungry anymore. I let out a long, therapeutic breath as I stand. I go sit in Damien’s lap, knowing he needs close contact when something has rocked his world like this. He hugs me tightly to him.

“How are you doing with all this?” I ask.

“Baby, right now, I’m so furious at what my parents did. I’ve been living in a pipe dream that my parents and I could actually work through it all. I can’t stop them from being selfish and self-absorbed. There’s a very good chance that they’ve contributed to the situation we’ve found ourselves in currently, putting you in harm’s way.”

The finality in his tone saddens me because I think he’s right. This will probably be as good as it gets with his family.

“Damien, we’ll get through this. I’m here to support you in whatever way you need. Let’s just hope for the best.”

I nuzzle into him, trying to give him as much contact as possible, and he grabs me tighter. The weight of the afternoon sinks in. This goes so much deeper than I ever suspected.

We are walking to the front entrance of the hotel where I see the vultures swarming with their cameras.

I stop mid-stride and ask, “Bane, can we go out the employee exit this time?”

Bane turns, mumbles into his earpiece, and says, “Yes, Mrs. Wales, this way.”

Damien squeezes my hand.

I look up at him. “I’d rather not push our luck today, if that’s all right. I want to enjoy this shoot, and I don’t want you to be stressed.”

Damien gives me a sweet smile. We both need a day of work to absorb ourselves in for a distraction from real life. Tomorrow, we are headed to his parents’ house for the reception, and then we’re staying the night.

Oh, the joy.

“Probably a good idea, baby,” he says.

We go to the service elevator and descend one level. Finally, we walk out into the underground employee entrance and get into the waiting SUV.

As we are headed to the stadium, Damien’s phone rings. “Yes, Mother.”

Through the phone, I hear her shrill voice say, “I’m so glad you’ll be home. I’ve invited Cassandra. Maybe you guys can talk. You need to work through the past, Damien.”

Ugh, ugh, ugh.
His mother is starting to get on my nerves. We are married. I’m trying to keep my calm with her since we don’t see each other very often.

He responds icily, “Mother, I’ll cancel the event if you don’t cut the bullshit. I’m happily married.” With that, he hangs up the phone. “I’m sorry, baby.”

I grab his hands and give them a kiss. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, and that’s all that matters. I wish things could be better, but they’re not.”

Our relationship with his parents is sad on so many levels because I really don’t think his mother sees the true impact. It’s as if she has on blinders, only choosing what she wants to see as the truth. There’s only one way in this, and it’s her way.

We arrive at the stadium. Damien escorts me to the part of the field where I’ll be shooting the players. It’s at the end, near a field goal post. They have also set up a platform with the team mascot printed on the back wall. I’ll have several places where I can shoot each player to give the marketing team some options to choose from, depending on what they want. My fingers itch to hit the button, and my ears long to hear the click of the shutter.

Top players are being shot in both their uniform and their team dress clothes. Uniforms are getting thirty minutes of shooting time, and team dress clothes will be done in fifteen minutes or less. Apparently, I’ll be shooting for close to twelve hours today. This will create a good balance for Damien and me as we travel. I’ll stay busy, and he’ll be able to work guilt-free.

Damien leans down and gives me a respectable kiss. “Security will be close. Let me know if any of the players cross the line.”

“Damien, I’ve got this. Go do what you do.”

I give him another little kiss and then shoo him off, but he seems hesitant.

“Go. Now. I’ll see you at lunch,” I say.

I blow him a kiss, and he catches it as he walks back to the stadium.

The morning passes, and the players are all responsive and respectful as I suggest poses and take shot after shot. I’m being treated as if I’m their grandmother, and security is literally within three feet of me every moment. It’s a little frustrating at times when I’m constantly asking them to move slightly due to the shadows they’re casting on my light.

I look at the schedule as the kicker leaves the field, and I have one more shoot before lunch. Scrolling through my last set of pictures, I glance up to see Dustin approaching me. He’s not on my lineup today. Immediately, I get that cold, creepy vibe.

“Hey, Allison. Why wasn’t I on the lineup for the shoot today?”

Giving a polite smile, I respond, “I’m not sure. You’ll have to ask Monica. She made the schedule. I’m just here to shoot.”

“Well, how about that tour now? Did you change your phone number again? I was going to text you to ask a question, but it said it was undeliverable.” Dustin gives me a wink.

Security moves in closer. My hand holding the camera starts to slightly shake.

What. The. Fuck?
I’m going to have to tell Damien and Bane about this.

Another familiar voice speaks from behind me, and I turn. Relief immediately courses through me.

“Hey, Allison.”

“Hey, Mark. How are you doing?”

He’s so warm and inviting with his calm demeanor and tone. I would have never guessed that he was the quarterback or star player.

“I’m good. Thanks for coming out and taking pictures of the team, Allison.”

His green eyes are so kind. It makes me want to give him a big bear hug.

From behind, I hear Dustin say, “Rain check, Allison?”

I don’t respond as I continue my conversation with Mark. “You’re welcome. I like working. This is perfect for a flexible work schedule.”

He gives me a wink. “I’m sure Damien likes keeping you close. Hey, I’ve been trying to reach Sam. Do you know when she’s coming up again?”

My heart officially breaks for him. “I’m not sure.”

I’ve been here a hundred times when it comes to Sam’s relationships. Sam meets guy, guy falls in love with Sam, Sam leaves guy, and guy pines after her for an immeasurable amount of time. Sam’s hiding from something instead of dealing with it, and that’s why she runs from relationships. I feel horrible for Mark wanting something he can’t have right now.

A look of confusion passes over his face. “Has she said something?”

I know he sees the sympathetic smile on my face as I respond, “No, Mark. I want to be honest with you. Sam won’t say anything. She’s not the relationship kind of girl. Just be careful. She runs the opposite way when it starts getting serious.”

The poor guy looks like I just kicked his puppy. I instantly feel bad for telling him the truth. It’s like he just discovered Santa Claus doesn’t exist.

He tries to give me another warm smile. “Well, here’s to hoping. If she asks, just tell her I said hello. I don’t want to scare her off more than she already is. I’ll think of something to get her talking to me again.”

Giving him a warm smile, I say, “Fingers crossed.”

And I really do mean it. I’m Team Mark all the way. We are definitely in need of a subject change, and I think he agrees.

“Are we ready to do your shoot?” I ask.

“Absolutely.”