Chapter 25
THE ZIP-TIES HAD CUT deeper into her wrists.
Not enough to break skin, not yet, but the edge was there, a raw, pulsing awareness of every micro-movement that made her wince.
Her arms throbbed from being behind her back too long, but she refused to let the man see her pain.
She shifted against them slowly, subtly, as the wooden chair creaked beneath her.
While they had the chair bolted to the floor, it still wasn’t a sturdy piece of furniture by any means.
Probably older than she was, its legs were uneven, causing her to slant slightly, and the seat was worn.
The air in the room stank of mildew and gasoline, and a grimy window high on the wall let in the faintest slice of moonlight, just enough to blur the dark edges of the room surrounding her.
Outside, the world went on, while inside, she was one good scream from losing her mind.
Everett Marris leaned casually against the edge of a decaying mantle in what once might have been a living room, suit jacket slung over the back of a chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
He looked more like a man preparing for a dinner party than the mastermind of a high-level conspiracy operation.
But his smile—sharp, lipless, smug—belonged to a serpent more than a man.
“Comfortable?” he asked, swirling amber liquor in a glass as if they were sitting across from each other in some damn country club instead of a rot-ridden farmhouse. “I know the accommodations leave something to be desired, but I find nostalgia charming, don’t you?”
She didn’t answer him. Not yet. He wanted a reaction. Craved it even, but she refused to give it to him. Every move he made oozed that oily brand of control addicts like him specialized in. She’d give him nothing he could use, however.
Still, the longer she remained silent, the wider his grin stretched.
“You’re quieter than I expected,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Almost have me worried, except I suppose that fire’s still there. Just banked for the time being.” He gestured with his glass. “No point pretending anymore. We’re well past cordial.”
Meaghan swallowed the coppery tang of blood from where she bit her cheek earlier when they threw her in the van. “Didn’t want to interrupt your victory lap.”
That earned a chuckle. “You’re a Harrington all right. Even zip-tied to a chair, you’re still trying to score points when you should be pissing you pants in fear.”
She kept her face still, her eyes hard. “Why me? Why drag me into this bullshit?”
Everett chuckled once more. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”
He sauntered forward, slow and deliberate, until he crouched beside her, arms resting on his knees.
She didn’t flinch, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
But her heart pounded as she turned her face just enough to avoid the sour tinge of his breath.
Cigars and corruption. She wondered if he could hear the hammering in her chest.
“You want to know how it started?” he asked. “How a sweet little Ivy-League girl like you ended up with her name on shell accounts and federal flags?”
She didn’t blink, just stared.
He stood once more, pacing now, the rhythm of his steps measured like a ticking bomb. He was performing now, just for her, and she knew it. He couldn’t help it. Men like him never could.
“You know,” he said with a slow bob of his head, “your father used to be a halfway decent man when I met him years ago.”
She didn’t answer.
“He was tired, of course. Frustrated with the backroom deals and shady whisperings of other senators. Didn’t want to play ball with lobbyists or PACs, but he had bills to pay.
Staff to keep happy, and donors nipping at his heels for him to keep his promises.
” He turned and looked at her, making sure he hadn’t lost her attention.
“We met on a charity golf course in Baton Rouge, of all places. A clean little fundraiser where he gave a speech about ethics of all things. He was such a bleeding heart back then. I needed funding, and he needed votes, so I gave a check to his campaign, and our little partnership formed.”
Meaghan stared at him, her breath shallow.
“And what did he do?” Everett asked. “How did he show his appreciation for our years of working together? He took the check and several more after that. Smiled. Shook my hand. And then later, he was on our advisory board at New Horizons. Said it would only be a part-time gig, and I assured him he didn’t have to do anything but smile and sign off on a few things. And the money?”
He whistled low as he shook his head, a smirk twisting his lips. “That money changed everything.”
Meaghan’s voice was ice. “You tricked him.”
“I invited him.” Everett corrected. “He RSVP’d, and I gave him a taste of what could be.
He started asking for more. Private flights, stock options.
‘Clean’ donations for dirty causes. And when he got nervous?
” He shrugged. “I promised him I’d take care of the paperwork.
Clean up the footprints and make sure the world never knew. ”
She stared at him, letting the silence stretch.
Then his tone darkened as he narrowed his eyes.
“I didn’t plan to use you at first. To me, you were simply the man’s daughter, a squeaky clean teacher, untouchable.
But then…” He turned once more, facing her with the weight of inevitability.
“Then he got greedy. Not for himself, no, not at the start anyway. He craved more power, influence. One contract here, a padded donation there. And suddenly, I had leverage.”
He pointed the glass at her like it was a weapon.
“But he made a mistake and tried to pull out. Said he was ‘cleaning house.’ Somehow, I think it had to do with you. Something about regaining your love.” He shrugged.
“I warned him not to touch the files. Not to sniff around New Horizons. But Roger always thought he was smarter than the devils he dined with, never truly understanding the power those who supported him wielded.”
Her heart almost stopped at what the man said was her father’s reasoning for getting out. Her. He wanted to get closer to her, to recapture the respect he had lost from her.
“So you forged my name to everything,” she whispered, jaw locking. “Made me your scapegoat.”
“Well, not me personally. I don’t touch keyboards.
” He spun again, with a dramatic flair waving his arms. “But yes. The signature on the land transfers? The falsified security clearances? All digital. All sourced from the senator’s own system.
” He gave a theatrical shrug. “You were already on the books. One intern mistake here, one signed receipt there. Nothing illegal. At least, not then. But it was enough to build a paper trail. That’s what made it so beautiful.
We didn’t even have to dig into your files.
Daddy dearest stored every doc, every scanned form, on his cloud.
Like a buffet of plausible deniability.”
Her stomach turned. “You son of a—”
“Language, Miss Harrington. After all, you’re still a senator’s daughter and a teacher of little ones. You wouldn’t want them to hear such a potty mouth, now would you?”
Her voice cracked despite herself. “This isn’t right.”
“When someone steals from me, Miss Harrington, it hurts. I trusted your father, and he betrayed that trust by stealing from me. Now I’ll make him hurt by letting him watch his precious only daughter fall.
” He stepped closer again, and this time she did flinch, just slightly, as he leaned down and whispered near her ear.
“And because he loves you, he’ll fall in line when I point the knife at your throat. ”
She yanked hard against the ties, pain flaring in her wrists, and her shoulder burned from the strain, but the fury in her chest didn’t dim. It flared brighter. “So that’s your plan? You’re going to kill me?”
“I’m going to bury you,” he told her, unbothered. “Not literally, of course. Dead senators’ daughters raise too many nosy questions I really don’t have time for. But disgraced ones?” he smiled again. “Those make perfect headlines, and your fall will keep my hands clean.”
Her stomach twisted. “You won’t get away with this.”
He chuckled, a short, sharp bark. “That’s cute. You still think this is about getting away with something. Sweetheart, this is already done. Your father signed the last report himself. He just didn’t read it. This is about making him hurt.”
He tossed back the last of his drink and turned his back on her, heading toward a small folding table covered with papers and an old laptop.
From the corner, a man stood guard, bored and checking his watch.
She didn’t recognize him, just assumed he was one of Everett’s hired goons, likely ex-military or failed law enforcement, just competent enough to be dangerous.
“And the others?” she asked.
He blinked as if her question threw him off. “Gage. Elvis. Callen.” Her lip curled. “Wraith.”
The name landed hard as she closed her eyes.
Everett’s smirk flickered for just a second. “Ah. So you do know what he was. I must admit when I dug into the man your father sent to protect you, it surprised me what I found. Made for quite the nighttime reading.”
“I know him better than you ever will, which is why I know this won’t end well for you.”
He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He’s too broken and too far away to stop this. And even if he tries…” Everett tapped his phone. “I have eyes everywhere.”
Meaghan shifted, her shoulders aching. “Then why are you still talking to me? Seems like you’re merely wasting time. Why even take me at all? Why not just turn the files over to the authorities and be done with it.”
Everett turned and gave her a full, warm smile, his teeth sharp in the shadows.
“Because, as I said, your father needs to hurt, and I imagine by now he’s heard you’re missing and his little soldier boy failed.
He’ll be going absolutely nuts with worry.
” He shrugged. “You see, my dear Meaghan, you’re not merely my scapegoat; you’re my revenge as well. ”
A loud creak echoed from the far hallway, floorboards moaning under someone’s weight.
Everett looked up sharply, his body tensing. The man on the other side of the room glanced toward the sound and then back to Everett.
Meaghan’s heart stuttered, the look on Everett’s face telling her whoever was out there wasn’t someone he knew.
Everett narrowed his eyes and nodded toward the hallway. “Go check that out.”
The guard disappeared into the shadows with the clunk of boots, which were a dead giveaway that he was on his way.
Everett turned back to her, his jaw tight. “Don’t you just love surprises?” He took a step closer, tilting his head slightly. “You look like your mother, do you know that? That same fire when she testified against the energy conglomerate. I hated her then, too.”
Meaghan felt her stomach twist, but she didn’t look away. “That’s the real reason, isn’t it? You couldn’t touch her, so you settled for me.”
He approached fast, anger tightening every muscle in his face. But she didn’t flinch. Not when he bent down again, not when he grabbed the back of her chair, and leaned in closer. “You have no idea what I’ve touched,” he whispered.
She sneered at him. “And you have no idea what’s about to touch you.”
Somewhere in the distance, the sound of an engine rumbled. Tires on gravel. Voices.
Everett froze as he glanced over his shoulder at the doorway. “Where is that damn guard?”
He cursed under his breath and reached for the gun tucked into the back of his waistband
Meaghan’s pulse surged as she watched him leave the room, closing the door behind him with a finality that chilled her to the core. The click of the lock echoed like a shot, and she stared at the door for a long moment.
They were close. He was close. And if she could survive long enough, so was payback.
“You better hurry your ass, Callen,” she whispered as she tested her restraints once more.
And then she leaned to one side and then back to the other, playing in the uneven legs of her chair, hoping to break the bolts holding it in place.
If she could get out of the chair, then she would have a better chance.
With another deep breath, she bit back against the pain and continued to rock from side to side. Then, the world outside exploded.