Surviving the Storm, page 11
I'm staring at the broken glass of my tumbler, amber liquid pooling on the carpet. Then I see Garcia stand, his large body blocking the sunlight streaming in through the windows. He's staring at me, and then everything goes black.
* * *
My head feels heavy. The back of my neck aches.
When I move my hand to rub it, I find it tied to my other one.
Forcing my eyes open, I'm met by the white carpet of the penthouse.
Sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I lift my head to find Beth and Gina sitting on the couch, playing a game of cards.
What the fuck is going on?
Looking left, I notice Garcia is also tied up. He's wide awake. There's a gash on his forehead and a trail of dried blood running down his temple.
I guess he was on my side after all. How the two of them took him down, I'll be interested to hear.
"Look who decided to wake up," Gina says, drawing my attention back to where they're seated.
"About fucking time," Beth notes without looking away from her cards. "You've been out for almost eight hours. Did you enjoy your nap?"
"Fuck you," I spit.
"Oh, no thank you. I've heard mixed reviews. Plus, I'm not really interested in getting involved with someone like you. From what I can tell, it never ends well."
Beth chooses that moment to set her cards down and turn her entire body to face mine. When our eyes meet, the urge to choke the life out of her is overwhelming. There's a sparkle in her hers. One that tells me she's won the game. Before I even had a chance to play.
"Unless you have a warrant to arrest me, you need to untie me right fucking now," I seethe.
"Oh, I have a warrant for your arrest, but before we take you in, I thought you might want to know how we got you."
"You don't have shit."
"Senator Lang, you're under arrest for your role in a human sex trafficking organization. You have the right—"
"I know my fucking rights. You have no evidence of my involvement in anything."
"Actually we have plenty of evidence. Thanks to your ex-girlfriend, your wife, your business partner, and a briefcase we found in the closet of your home, we have all the evidence we need."
Briefcase? What brief—
Shit!
I forgot about that. I was supposed to deliver that to Mendez the night I met Amelia. I took it back home with me, and Gloria must have put it in the closet with the rest of my luggage. I haven't even thought about it since that night.
"I have no idea what you're talking about. I don't know about any briefcase. If you found it in my closet, it could be my wife’s or it could have been planted. Maybe you should check with Detective Micah Ayers. He seems to find his way into my house a lot these days. I wouldn't be surprised if he planted evidence there for you to find."
Gina and Beth share a glance before Gina speaks up.
"The briefcase in question is the same one you carried with you to Houston and back the weekend you met Amelia. The reason I remember is because it was metal and dark gray. It looked heavy. The briefcase you've always carried is black leather. Expensive. This one looked more like a lockbox than a briefcase."
"Well, aren't you full of random knowledge. Did you tell your partner here that you used to let me fuck you when I felt the need? That you'd get off in the middle of a workday and that you used to beg me for more? What about the time on the plane? Did you tell her about that? Or when I took your ass?
"How much truth have you really shared? I feel like your integrity may be called into question on this case. That would make anything you say, anything you found, inadmissible, right?"
Gina's nostrils flare, the only sign I've gotten under her skin.
"Actually, everyone is aware of the great sacrifices I made to get close to you for the sake of the case. My integrity is intact."
Well, fuck.
Her superiors may see it that way, but a judge may not, and a jury may be persuaded.
"Would you like me to read you your rights, or are you ready to get going?" Beth's impatience is annoying.
No, I don't want to go anywhere with you. That would mean I'm headed to jail.
I don't need to hear my rights read to me. I know what they are and I'm about to invoke them.
"Actually, I'd like to call my lawyer before we go anywhere," I state, tilting my chin up higher. My neck is still sore, and the way I have it stretched only intensifies the pain.
Reaching for a black cell phone sitting on the table in front of me, Beth picks it up and poises her thumbs over the keyboard.
"What's the number?"
"I don't know it by heart," I lie. "It's stored in my phone."
At the mention of my phone, Gina gets up and crosses the room. She swiftly approaches a stack of three filing boxes near the door. She opens the lid of the one on top and removes a plastic bag. The contents… my cell phone.
It's been confiscated.
What else have they taken?
Beth moves to cut my hands free while Gina stands in front of me, her gun drawn but not pointed at me. I'm brought back to the last time I fucked her. In my office. Bent over my desk. I had just finished getting myself off to the sight of Amelia and she walked in.
That day, I was already turned on, and she was willing and able.
Right now, the sight of her with a gun in her hand, her clothes as tight as a second layer of skin, hugging her body in all the right places… my dick is twitching in my pants.
I shouldn't be hot under the collar for this bitch. She turned on me. She was working against me the entire time, luring me to my demise.
Once my hands are free, I extend my hand and Gina places my phone in my palm. I let my thumb gently graze the back of her hand before she can pull it away. When I look up to interpret her reaction, I'm met with a stern look of disapproval and resentment.
Apparently I'm not having the same effect on her that she's having on me.
Waiting for my phone to power up, I can feel both Beth and Gina staring at me. Beth is behind me, lightly tapping her foot against the hardwood floor. If she's this impatient, I'm surprised she's been able to chase me this long. It makes me wonder how she's kept under the radar. She strikes me as an "in your face" kind of girl.
Sliding my finger across the screen once I'm able, I then type in my code, and my home screen greets me. It's a picture of Amelia, smiling at me. The photographer took it as she was walking down the aisle, walking toward me. It's the happiest I've ever seen her.
Even that day, I knew I would ruin her.
As much as I had hoped she would become more like my mother and fall in line with the way things were, in my heart, I knew that day would never come. She was always too curious, too bold, and too strong.
"Make the call," I hear Beth demand.
Scrolling through my contacts, I search for the best person to call to represent me. I know a dozen lawyers. None of whom I feel I can trust, but I'm going to have to choose one. When I see Kensington's name, I stop scrolling and pull up his number. He not only owes me a favor, I have more dirt on him than he knows about.
"Senator Lang," he greets after only one ring. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Kensington," I reply, my voice firmer than I anticipated. "I have a favor to ask."
"How much trouble are you in?" he asks before I can continue.
"I'm not sure yet."
"Where are you?"
"Houston."
He continues to ask me questions that I refuse to answer with more than a word or two. With Gina and Beth both staring at me, listening to my side of our conversation, I don't want to give them more ammunition against me.
Finally he asks to speak to someone who can give him detailed information about where I'm going to be. I hand the phone to Gina in hopes of touching her again when Beth snatches it from my hand.
We're headed downtown to the central police headquarters. I'll be kept in a private cell for now. To keep me safe. You can hear the detest for that sentiment in Beth's voice as she practically spat the words out.
Beth hands me back my phone, eyeing me cautiously. Looking down at the screen I see that my call with Kensington is still active.
“Hello.”
He doesn’t waste any time beating around the bush. "Don't say anything until I get there. I should be able to catch the red-eye that leaves in a few hours."
As soon as I hang up with Kensington, Beth holds her hand out for my phone. As soon as I place it in her palm I watch as she powers it down and put back in the evidence box by the door.
"Stand up, hands behind your back," Beth states, gripping my forearm.
Doing as she asks, Beth places a set of steel bracelets around my wrists, then guides me toward the door where Gina is waiting.
"Take him down to the car and ride with him to the station. I'll be behind you with the other one."
They're separating us. I almost forgot Garcia was even in the room he was so silent.
Is it because they think he knows something? If so, they're in for a rude awakening. He's not going to give up anything. Whatever their reasoning, he's become more of a liability than an asset right now.
Gina takes me by the arm and guides me into the hall. I'm staring at the floor, trying to decide if I have enough in me right now to make a move or if I should go willingly and let Kensington work it all out, when a pair of familiar boots come into view. They cause me to stop in my tracks.
Slowly lifting my head, I take in the boots and jean-clad legs, and just as I'm about to say her name, a second pair of familiar legs appear.
Two sets of angry eyes. So similar in shade it's hard to tell them apart.
Two angry scowls. Both void of any other emotion.
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. My wife and my girlfriend… together… working against me.
The elevator door slowly slides open, and Gina pulls me inside. And as the door begins to close between us, a smile slowly spreads across my face.
They showed me their hand too soon.
Sixteen
Eleven Months Later
Amelia
Gone.
Locked away.
A ten-year sentence. Minimum.
Monica testified. Mendez testified. Garcia testified. Hell, even Joseph testified. That threw me.
The things I learned during the trial still shock me to this day. Not just about the man I married either. Those are the things that are easiest to believe. It's all the stuff that was happening behind the scenes, the parts of my life that were set up to appear as coincidences that are hardest to accept.
Everything that happened after the day I met Beth was part of the operation. I was chosen for my looks, for my aspirations. I fit the mold perfectly to be their insider, and I didn't even know it.
Only child.
Living on my own and struggling to make a name for myself.
Desperate, to a point, for acceptance. That was hard to hear them say, but looking back now, I can see it clearly.
Beth became my lifeline. My best friend. Without question. Without hesitation. And from there, things progressed. There were hidden trackers and mics placed in my purses. Someone was always following me. Johnathan was their main target, but there were others on their list that I was set up to cross paths with before him.
For instance, Joseph, my former lover, was a small player in the game. He would occasionally find girls for Mendez. The reason Garcia brought Johnathan to the club that night was to look into Joseph. Beth had already pushed me into Joseph's arms, but they weren't able to make the connection until after I left with Johnathan that night.
His loyal bartender, also a small player.
They were able to flip both of them, which is how they were able to get to Mendez.
Once they had Mendez, their original plan was to pull me. What good was I if they had someone who could give them Johnathan?
Garcia talked them out of it.
They may have had enough dirt on Johnathan, but he wanted to take down the top of the organization and was certain Johnathan knew who it was. So month after month they watched and waited for him to slip up, but he never did. It wasn't until we were married that Garcia finally accepted Johnathan wasn't aware who was on top.
And then the storm came barreling in on us, and within twenty-four hours, the entire investigation blew up.
Heath was found on a beach in Mexico, drinking a Corona, enjoying his freedom. They extradited him with the help of the Mexican government, and he's awaiting trial. His should be swift, considering Johnathan sold him down the river the minute they mentioned a plea deal. He wasn't about to take the fall for his father. He was only interested in saving his own ass.
It took me a few months to figure out what I wanted my next move to be. Where I wanted to go. Who I wanted to be.
That last part I'm still working on.
All I kept thinking about was going home. So I went and stayed with my parents, helped around the farm, and spent quality time with them.
Even though they knew what was going on the entire time and were in constant contact with either Beth or Garcia, the relief on their faces when I stepped out of the car that day caused me to get choked up.
What if things had ended differently?
What if I wasn't able to come back home?
What if Johnathan had left me in that closet to die like he had wanted to?
I'm their one and only. It would have devastated them. I'll have to live with that for the rest of my life, knowing that I worried them for all those months. And Garcia… I know he feels even worse about it than I do. He was only trying to do his job, but he didn't give any of us a choice in the matter.
There came a point where he was making the decisions for his own reasons, to satisfy his need to break the case. Some of his decisions were called into question, and I'm not sure he even realized how selfish they had been until he had to explain them.
The only peace he has is the fact things turned out the way they needed to and that everyone was able to come home safely. Including him.
The day he revealed his true identity in court, my eyes were trained on Johnathan. Garcia took the stand, raised his right hand, and swore to tell the truth. The prosecutor led with two basic questions. Name and occupation.
Johnathan had a smirk on his face as he stared Garcia down. Garcia refused to make eye contact, keeping his eyes trained on Beth, who was seated next to me. I watched as the self-satisfaction melted from Johnathan's face, stunning him for a moment before his glare became murderous.
The one person he trusted most, the person he kept closest for all those years, was the same person who he should have kept at a distance. If anyone was working against him, it was Garcia, and he had no clue.
Garcia did a number of shady things for Johnathan while in his employment. Or at least that's what Johnathan thought. What Johnathan was meant to think. He saw what Garcia wanted him to. Believed what Garcia told him to be the truth.
When it came to disclosing the truth about Monica's disappearance, I listened intently. I knew bits and pieces of how it went down, but the overall picture was more fascinating than anything I could possibly imagine.
Kidnapping Monica. Taking pictures for evidence. Revealing the truth to Monica and hiding her.
It sounded like something you would only see in the movies, and Garcia was a damn good storyteller. Johnathan attempted to jump over the table and get to him after he was done, shouting profanities, threatening to kill Garcia until they removed him from the courtroom against his will.
The judge was smart enough to call recess after that.
That was the last day I went to court. I didn't want or need to hear any more beyond that. If I have questions, Beth and Garcia are on speed dial these days, and so is Monica. She didn't stick around for the trial. Eager to get home to her family and get back to her life, she left Houston as soon as they had Johnathan in custody.
I was there when Micah picked her up. Their reunion was a moment I'll never forget. Mixed emotions from both of them as they embraced, having a private conversation as they both wept. It was the most beautiful sight, and I was so happy I could witness it. I needed to see something good come out of all the devastation.
Their reunion was that moment for me.
With the trial over and Johnathan headed to prison to begin serving his sentence tomorrow, I've been summoned back to South Padre Island to meet with Johnathan's lawyer. I have no idea what it's about, but I have a bad feeling, so I've asked Monica to come with me.
It's an odd relationship I have with Monica. I'll be the first to admit it. We've bonded over our love for Johnathan, a man that wasn't who either of us thought he really was. But it's gone beyond just that. We both love the ocean, we love to travel, to sing, to perform. More than anything, we love our families and cherish the bonds we have with our parents.
We have a lot in common. If we had met under different circumstances, we more than likely would have become friends. The fact we didn't and yet are still forming a friendship continues to amaze me.
ME: Plane just landed. Meet you at baggage claim.
MONICA: We're here.
We? I can only imagine she brought Micah with her.
If there is one thing I've learned about Monica over the last few months it's that subtlety is not something she knows.
She's in love with the idea of Micah and I getting together. What she refuses to accept is that I don't really know her brother. We met a handful of times, and although I'm extremely attracted to him, that's not the best basis for the beginnings of a relationship.
Hell, look what happened with Johnathan. My body practically melted when he touched me, and that turned out about as bad as it can get.
Still, I should have seen this coming.
She's been pushing the idea for weeks now, and I've allowed my mind to imagine the possibilities. More than once. Being wrapped in his strong arms. Resting my head against his firm chest.
Hell, thinking about it right now has my heart racing.
Scanning the area around my baggage carousel, my eyes settle on a familiar pair only a few yards away. Letting out a sigh as my heart continues to race in my chest, I take him all in. He's as gorgeous as I remember. His hair is still wildly out of control, a stray piece falling in front of his eyes. He pushes it away before taking a step in my direction and doesn't stop walking until he's standing in front of me.
