Chapter 16 #2
And I have to, no matter how painful it is to recount being blindsided so badly by someone I had trusted.
“I thought he just wanted to spend time with me.” I shrug. “We weren’t super busy most of the time, so he could hang out while I worked, and we would chat.”
Though, it was never anything important.
Superficial, at best.
Nothing like the long, deep conversations I have had with Liam about my life, my past, my fears, and his own.
Because deep down, I knew there was something off about Brad.
“He started asking me questions about the bank hours and what time I brought over the deposits. He said he was worried about me doing it alone at night in the dark, and he insisted he wanted to start coming with me. I didn’t think anything of it.
” I release a little sigh at my own ignorance.
“I thought it was kind of sweet.” My throat tightens at how na?ve I was, at how easily I fell for the act.
“I’d never met a guy who was like that before.
I never had anyone want to protect me like that. ”
Liam’s hand shifts to the back of my neck, and he lightly brushes his thumb across the skin there, settling me as I reach the part of the story where it all went to shit.
“He started coming with me when I made deposits, and it became a daily thing.”
Attorney Snow nods. “How long did this go on?”
“Maybe six weeks?” I shrug, the timeline melting together. “Eight weeks?”
Intense dark eyes watch me expectantly. “And then what happened?”
“And then I helped him rob the bank.”
* * *
LIAM
I don’t know why I believed hearing this for the second time would make it easier somehow. It was delusional to think knowing everything Lucky went through might make standing here as she relays it again—to a total stranger who might be her only chance of getting her life back—break me less.
The pain definitely isn’t any better.
If anything, the second go-around is worse, like having acid thrown into an already open, gaping wound that was created the day Lucky revealed the truth.
It takes all my will power to retain a neutral expression as Attorney Snow’s eyes narrow on her with her confession.
My gaze flicks up to meet Killian and Connor’s. While they’ve both heard the story from me so we could prepare a game plan, having Lucky tell it in her own words is rough for them, too.
They’re both always so stoic, internalizing their emotions and only letting them out when they’ve been contained so long that they finally have to explode.
And now, they’re both tense.
Jaws locked.
Arms crossed over their chests.
Backs ramrod straight.
But it isn’t because they’re angry with Lucky.
They want to kill the bastard who did this to her—just like I do.
Because they’ve grown to love her, too. The past several weeks, she’s become one of us—a McBride. Not bound by blood, but something strong, something that means more.
Feeling the way her body trembles under my hands and how terrified she is to be revealing all this to a complete stranger is enough to make me want to pull her into my arms and end it immediately.
I ache to whisk her away to the top of the mountain, where we can hole up again in the cabin and shut out the world. But weeks of doing just that haven’t changed anything.
And until this is resolved, Lucky will always have one foot on the road, ready to run.
Attorney Snow can’t help her if he doesn’t know what happened, if he doesn’t have all the facts, no matter how agonizing it might be for her to speak these words again.
Lucky sucks in a sharp breath that makes her whole body shake, and I reach over her and open the bottle of water on my desk, handing it to her. She takes a long sip from it, using the short reprieve to gather her thoughts and courage.
Attorney Snow seems to sense she needs a moment, focusing on whatever he’s writing, giving her a moment to compose herself.
I lean down and brush my lips against her ear, inhaling that eucalyptus scent of her shampoo that I’ve become so addicted to. “Are you okay?”
She nods, setting the water on the desk with a quivering hand. “I have to do this, right?”
Her distress claws at my chest, and my gaze flicks back up to Killian and Connor, who have tried to get me to talk for months while I’ve resisted and resisted—over and over again—because it would be too painful.
It wasn’t fair to them or Willow, who, of all people, could probably understand what I have been going through. But I wasn’t prepared to suffer that agony. Wasn’t ready to confront it.
My meltdown on the mountain the other day put a crack in that dam, but it’s still hard to let it fall fully. Allowing all those emotions I’ve bottled up since learning the truth about my father to filter out slowly rather than in a deluge of anger and fear feels so much safer.
But Lucky doesn’t have that option.
It’s all or nothing.
I’d much rather take her home, lay her out on the bed, and give her a reason not to think about it for hours, but I nod and feather a kiss to her temple. “You do. But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you, Bluebell.”
She clears her throat, her hands tightening in the material of her shirt, as if she needs something physical to ground her during this.
“I didn’t know what was happening. I was”—she releases a little huffed laugh—“na?ve, I guess. The day it happened, I went to go make my deposit right before the bank closed. The street was always fairly deserted at that time, but that day, there were two dark SUVs parked in front of the bank, their windows tinted so you couldn’t see in.
Brad walked across the street like normal, with my free hand in his.
” Her voice wavers, and she takes another sip of water.
“But instead of moving right to the bank door, he banged on the window of one of the vehicles. The doors flew open, and eight men climbed out of them, dressed in black fatigues with masks covering their faces. One of them grabbed my arm and put a gun to my head, shoving me toward the bank—”
A sob slips from her lips, and she presses her hand over her mouth as I wrap my arm across her chest from behind her, trying to hold her the only way I can through this.
I need the connection as much as she does.
It seems to settle her after a moment, and her unsteady, hitched breathing slows.
“I tried to fight them, to pull away, but they were strong.” She shakes her head, as if trying to clear the memory. “And they had so many guns. They told me they would shoot me if I tried to resist, if I didn’t help them.”
She squeezes her eyes closed, several tears sliding down her cheeks, and I can feel the tension radiating from her body, as if she is struggling to contain a full-on breakdown.
I press my hand directly over her thudding heart, and she reaches up and entwines our fingers.
“They…used me as a hostage. Told the teller to get everything out of the vault, which they had open to move in everything at the end of the day. Which Brad knew because he’d been watching how they did things every day for the past two months.
Because he’d come in with me.” Her blue hair fans around her face as she shakes her head again.
“Everything happened so fast. We weren’t in there more than two minutes, and then they walked me out and shoved me into the SUV where Brad was waiting. ”
She exhales another shuddering breath.
“I-I thought they were going to kill me. I asked what the fuck just happened, what was going on, and he told me to shut the fuck up. I looked at him, and I was looking into the eyes of somebody I didn’t know.”
I cringe, remembering how I looked into my own father’s eyes that day. How I saw my own face and my eyes. How I saw who I could become.
It’s been impossible to look in a mirror since then without seeing him.
Attorney Snow continues to scribble notes before he looks up. “What happened after that?”
“They went to a warehouse, where they unloaded the money. They removed die packs and split it into other bags. It was a well-oiled machine. They knew exactly what they were doing.” Her voice levels out slightly.
“This had been planned meticulously. None of the other men ever took their masks off when I was there. Only Brad.”
Because they were smart.
They kept their identities concealed.
“Brad put a gun to my head, and he was going to kill me.” She shudders. “I saw it in his eyes. He was prepared to pull that trigger.”
And I could have lost Lucky before I ever found her…
My chest tightens, the pain so real, it’s like someone is strangling the life from me. Which is what will happen if she’s ever taken from me, if this doesn’t work.
Attorney Snow offers a sympathetic look. “Then what happened?”
I try to prepare myself for what’s coming, trying to brace myself for the impact of the words I know she’s about to say, but they still almost drop me to my knees.
Lucky releases a shaky breath. “He pistol-whipped me, and everything went black.”
Killian and Connor wince, both of them shifting uncomfortably where they quietly wait across the room.
“When I came to, I was secured inside an old locker of some sort. Metal with slats at the top that let in a tiny bit of light.” She swallows thickly. “My head was spinning and hurt. I didn’t know what had happened, why he hadn’t shot me…until I realized I couldn’t get out.”
Trapped.
She was trapped.
Left to die in an old, abandoned building that no one would have entered until it was too late.
Maybe Brad didn’t shoot her because he was afraid the sound would draw attention to them from anyone nearby, or perhaps he didn’t want to leave a bullet that could be traced and tied to other crimes he used the gun in. Or maybe he couldn’t pull the trigger while looking into Lucky’s soft blue eyes…
Another sob crawls up her throat, and she forces it back, the motion heaving her chest under my hold. “My hands were tied.”
“How did you get free?”
If her story wasn’t agonizing enough, the answer I know is coming to Attorney Snow’s question would be enough to shatter anyone. I brace myself for it, knowing full-well the tears and rage will come anyway.
She squares her shoulders, gathering her strength.
“I learned how to get out of restraints at a very young age. There’s a trick to it.
As soon as I got free, I managed to kick the door and bend the metal enough to get it open.
The warehouse was deserted. They hadn’t left a single thing. It was as if they were never there…”
“And you never told this to anyone? Didn’t call the police?”
She glances up at me. “Not until I told the McBrides.”
Snow raises a brow. “Why didn’t you go to the authorities?”
It’s the same question I asked her, the same Killian, Connor, and Willow did as soon as I told them everything.
And the reason exemplifies the type of life Lucky has had, what she’s had to suffer.
“Would they have believed me?” She asks it incredulously, the hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I have a record from when I was still a juvie. I was living on the streets, and I had to do things to survive. I stole. This isn’t a big step from that.
Not really.” She shakes her head. “And I got a job across from the bank. I walked one of the robbers into that bank every night while he cased it. I would have been tossed behind bars before I even told them my story. And they wouldn’t have believed a word of it if they had listened. ”
Attorney Snow’s jaw hardens, and I see the look in his eyes that confirms she’s one hundred percent right.
He wouldn’t have believed her.
I’m not even sure he believes her now.
“It was only a matter of time before the police found me since the tellers who were there that night knew me. I stumbled home, grabbed my bag, and what I could carry along with Gizmo, and I’ve been moving ever since then.
Hitchhiking my way north. Mostly walking, though.
Doing odd jobs here and there to make cash when I could.
” She peeks up at me, offering me a tentative near-smile.
“The longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere is here, in McBride Mountain. ”
Attorney Snow releases a heavy breath, clipping his pen to the pad and settling back slightly in the chair.
“Well, obviously the goal will be to try to keep you from being charged as an accomplice in this, because you’re right.
It will look like you were casing the bank with him and only pretended to be a hostage when you were actually in on the whole thing, especially since you disappeared.
But we have to be able to give them something.
Some information that could lead them to the arrest of the men who were actually responsible, if we have any chance of that happening. ”
Lucky nods. “Then it’s a good thing I know Brad’s real name.”
The shoulders under the silk suit tighten slightly, and Snow tilts his head. “And how do you know that?”
“Because he wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. I can identify him. And that might lead to other members of his crew, too.”
A slow smile spreads across Attorney Snow’s face.
It should be reassuring, but a chill rolls down my spine instead.
“Well”—he nods slowly—“that certainly is something.”