Dad waves a hand. “I know my daughter. She has a good heart, and if she loves this man, there is something good in him. Now, go on. Get out of here. Don’t you know sick old men need to rest? Oliver!”
When the officer pokes his head in the room, Dad takes another wheezing breath before he says, “My girl needs an escort to the Asheville coliseum where that press conference is happening. Think you can get her there before her fellow leaves?”
Oliver grins. “Let’s do it.”
I press a kiss to Dad’s cheek and promise to come back later. He grunts at me. “Don’t you waste your energy on me. You spend time with your boy.”
I hope I can get there in time to tell Brennon how I feel, how much his speech meant to me, and how desperately I hope that the two of us can stay married.
11
BRENNON
As Trace answers the last question, I’m struck with an overwhelming wave of exhaustion. My friends and I have been up all night, uncovering every dirty deed that Jackson Abernathy has committed and there have been many. The worst part is the same crimes that he accused Walter of, he’s done himself.
I knew better than to go to the local police. My father already owns them, so while the conference was taking place, Roman’s hacker friend was releasing the files online. Every time it was taken down from one site, it was uploaded to three new ones. It’s spreading across the internet like wildfire and already sparking public outrage.
The price of company stock is plummeting and within a few hours, there will only be steaming wreckage.
I conclude the conference, and the four of us make our way to the suite reserved for performers and politicians who take the coliseum stage. Once, I would have felt at home on the expensive couch with the thousand-dollar bottles of wine in the bar area. Now nothing feels like home without Cadence. She’s why I did this. I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to see my face again. Not after the things I discovered about my family. But I have to find a way to win her over, and it starts with this.
“You did good today,” Nash says as he takes the seat on the sofa across from me.
I nod, accepting the praise even though it was a team effort. Without Nash, Trace, and Roman, none of this would have been possible.
“They have your dad in custody already. Your mom turned herself in as of three minutes ago,” Roman confirms.
“Drew?” I grind out the word. He was part of a hit-and-run a year ago. He was driving drunk when he hit an elderly lady and left her in a snow drift to die. She survived, but the police never could find any suspects. Of course, my father had records. He kept careful records of every time he helped that shit stain escape the consequences of his actions. Those went public too.
“They have eyes on Andrew. He’s booked a flight overseas. As soon as he arrives at the airport, they’ll get him,” Roman answers.
I nod, my mind at ease knowing that the last piece of the puzzle is falling into place. As soon as I saw the reports, the elderly woman and her family suddenly had a generous benefactor who paid off her medical bills and her home. There are scholarships for her grandchildren now and her retirement fund is flush. She’ll never want for anything again. It’s far from what she deserves. No one should suffer the way she did, but maybe today is a tiny step toward justice for her.
“Our guys are ten minutes out,” Trace tells me. He and Roman hired a crew of bodyguards to get us out of here. This little press conference cost me my anonymity. Reporters and journalists are going to be crawling all over my life for the next few months. For two years, there has been speculation about what happened to Brennon Abernathy, and now the world finally knows. The shit storm is only beginning.
Nash passes me a chilled water. “You heard from her yet?”
I shake my head. I don’t expect to. I need to woo my girl. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than one damn press conference to convince her that we can be together.
There’s a knock on the door and Roman moves to open it. He ushers our guests on through, a cop and…Cadence. She’s actually standing here in front of me. Twisting her fingers together and biting her lip. She looks like she hasn’t slept since last night. Her yoga pants and t-shirt are rumpled. Her ponytail is messy, and her face is tear-streaked.
“Out,” I growl to my friends. They don’t get to see her like this, looking vulnerable and miserable. Nobody does because I’m her shield, the man who stands in front of her no matter what life throws our way.