Chapter 9 A Killer Secret
nine
a killer secret
Hitch
The moment we swept into the mansion's sprawling driveway, a sense of unease settled over me.
It felt less like we were being followed, and more like Fallon was the target, with me simply along for the ride.
I couldn't decipher if she sensed it too, but she played it cool, a dazzling smile gracing her face as we stepped out of the car and I instinctively reached for her hand.
She was a vision in a scarlet gown, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin.
It sculpted her curves, the swell of her hips and the gentle lift of her breasts, and made her sun-kissed skin shimmer.
The low neckline, barely clinging to her shoulders, offered a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, and my gaze, inevitably, followed.
She cleared her throat, a soft sound, and brushed a cascade of platinum curls over her bare shoulder, her skin catching the light from the mansion's festive front yard.
"My eyes are up here, Hitch," she chided playfully, her small hand cupping my cheek, cold and delicate.
Fallon, though petite, possessed a quiet strength in all the ways that mattered.
She was fiercely independent, a quality I deeply admired.
I squeezed her hand as we began our trek towards the house, a charade of attendance for my boss's Christmas party.
He wasn't a good man, I knew that with a certainty that settled in my bones, but I was tangled in his web, trapped like so many others who inhabited this gilded cage.
Fallon's heels clicked a staccato rhythm against the brick walkway, the entire property a riot of Christmas lights and decorations that amplified the holiday cheer. Her hand, nestled in mine, felt warm and safe, but I saw a flicker of nervous energy in the curve of her red lips, a vulnerability that tugged at my heart. I hadn’t wanted to drag her into this world, this mess, but I kept telling myself it would be harmless, especially if we didn’t stay long.
As we neared the front door, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled, a warning I tried to ignore, refusing to glance around and risk worrying Fallon, who had already endured enough hardship since we met.
We were practically kids when our parents—after two years of a secret affair—decided to marry.
I was seventeen, she was thirteen, and Brady, her brother, was fifteen.
It was a shock, but the intensity only escalated when we all moved in together.
I became consumed by her, and somehow, miraculously, she fell for me too.
But I’d ruined it, humiliating her at a party in front of everyone we knew.
She never let me forget it. We'd gone years without speaking, only reconnecting a couple of years ago.
"Whose house is this?" she whispered as we approached the door, security guards scrutinizing IDs.
"Just someone I know through work. I told him I'd stop by," I said, a half-truth, but not an outright lie.
"This bodyguard gig must give you some serious connections, huh?" Her eyes, searching, seemed to pierce right through me.
"You could say that," I murmured, retrieving my ID from my wallet.
Once inside, we were greeted with trays of champagne.
We each snatched a glass and downed the bubbly in one breathless gulp.
I saw the panic growing in Fallon’s eyes, and she immediately reached for another glass from a passing server.
I draped my arm around her back, resting my hand on her hip, drawing her close, wanting her to feel safe.
"What's wrong, crazy girl?" I whispered into her ear, weaving through the pulsing crowd, the music a physical force.
She leaned into me, her voice a low murmur against the music. "I don't like this, Hitch. It feels…wrong." Her hand tightened on my arm, the delicate pressure a tangible plea. "Let's go, please?"
I looked into her eyes, seeing the fear and the vulnerability that she tried so hard to hide.
My gut twisted with guilt. I'd brought her here, into this swirling vortex of superficiality and hidden agendas.
I'd put her at risk, and for what? To appease a man I despised, a man who, if I was right, was capable of unspeakable things.
"Soon," I promised, my voice raspy. "Just… let me say hello to the man of the hour. We'll leave after that. I promise."
She didn't look convinced, but she nodded, the briefest of movements, and leaned back against me, her body softening against mine.
I guided her through the throng of elegantly dressed guests, their laughter and animated conversations a constant hum.
We navigated the opulent rooms, each more lavish than the last, a dizzying display of wealth that felt suffocating.
Chandeliers dripped with crystals, casting a shimmering glow on the ornate furnishings.
The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, freshly cut pine, and something else…
something metallic, that I couldn't quite place.
Finally, we reached the heart of the party: a grand ballroom where a live band was playing a jazzy rendition of a Christmas carol.
At the center of the room, surrounded by a cluster of sycophants, stood Mr. Foley, my boss, the reason we were here.
He was a man of imposing stature, with a cruel gleam in his cold, grey eyes and a perpetual smirk that hinted at secrets he enjoyed keeping.
He was impeccably dressed, his tuxedo tailored to perfection, and he radiated an aura of power that both intimidated and repulsed.
He saw us, and his smile widened, a predator pleased with his prey.
He gestured us over, his fingers beckoning.
The blood in my veins turned icy as he caught my eye. This was it. The moment I had been dreading. I could feel Fallon tense beside me, her breath catching in her throat. I squeezed her hand, a silent promise. We were in this together. And whatever was about to happen, I wouldn't let him hurt her.
"Hitch, so nice of you for coming," Evander said, his eyes glued to Fallon. "And Fallon, you're a hard woman to track down."
She froze and I could feel her tense up even tighter beside me as she squeezed my hand as tight as she could.
Something was wrong. She started shaking as Evander stepped closer, and I knew it wasn't going to end well if I didn't step in and do something.
So I stepped between them, giving Fallon a chance to disappear while I blocked Foley's view.
"How do you know Fallon?" I asked him, trying to buy Fallon time to run if she wanted. But she didn't take a single step.
"Fallon planned my Christmas party a few years ago," Evander said with an amused tone, his jaw clenching as he smiled, turning my blood cold.
"Yeah, she sure knows how to throw a party," I laughed, taking her hand back in mine as she stepped up beside me again.
"I'm no longer in that line of work," Fallon said abruptly, and I knew right away she was lying, trying to get Evander to believe it.
"Such a shame. You were amazing," he whispered, reaching out to brush his knuckles across her cheek.
I could tell she wanted to cry. That she wanted to hit him for whatever he did.
But she stood there and remained strong through the entire conversation, making me even more proud of her than I already was.
Once he left, making sure to flash a wink at Fallon, she grabbed control of my hand and dragged me to the door.
"I need to get out of here," she said, and all I could do was nod.
We practically sprinted through the massive rooms, past the gaping mouths of guests still caught in their social dances, until we made it to the entrance.
The security guard eyed us with suspicion, but I held up my hand, flashing a smile as I ushered Fallon out.
We burst through the heavy front doors, into the frigid night air, where the biting wind whipped at our faces.
She didn't say a word, just dragged me toward the car, her heels clicking frantically against the stone pathway.
I didn't argue. I knew she was barely holding herself together, her breaths coming in shallow, quick gasps.
As soon as we reached the car, she fumbled with the handle, wrenching it open, and practically fell inside.
I followed, slamming the door shut and starting the engine.
She slumped against the headrest, her face a pale mask of shock and anger.
The vibrant red of her dress seemed to have dimmed, as if the color had been leeched away by the oppressive atmosphere of the mansion.
"Where are we going?" I asked, keeping my voice low, trying to project calmness when my insides were a churning mess.
She didn't respond immediately, just closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and then shook her head. "Anywhere but here," she finally said, her voice a strained whisper.
I nodded, already pulling away from the curb. The festive lights of the mansion blurred in my rearview mirror, a mocking reminder of the charade we'd just endured.
"Tell me what happened," I urged, turning onto the empty, winding road that led away from the estate.
She remained silent for a long moment, staring out the window, the city lights reflecting in her wide, frightened eyes. The silence was deafening, filled with the unspoken weight of what we'd just experienced.
"Fallon, tell me what fucking happened. What did he do?" I growled, finally getting a reaction out of her even if it was fear.
Finally, she began to speak, her voice trembling slightly. "He… he did things, Hitch. Things he shouldn't have done."
Her words hung in the air, a chilling revelation. I knew what she meant. Evander Foley wasn't just a powerful man; he was a dangerous one. And the fact that he seemed to have intimate knowledge of Fallon's past—a past she clearly wanted to keep buried—sent a fresh wave of ice through my veins.
"What things?" I pressed gently, my hand instinctively reaching out to cover hers, wanting to give her as much support as possible, but on the inside I was fucking pissed, hoping she didn't tell me he'd assaulted her or hurt her in any way.
Fallon was a tough girl, she had always been.
She went through an awful assault during high-school when she was drugged by a few soccer players and recorded as they raped her.
She never got over it but she didn't act like she was a victim.
I had always admired her for it. But because of that she shut down.
She stopped confiding in me and even Brady, and eventually she pulled away completely.
It wasn't just a couple years ago we all reunited again.
Her fingers were cold, a stark contrast to the burning heat that had just consumed me.
I squeezed her hand, attempting to convey my unwavering presence in the face of whatever horrors she was about to unearth.
I could feel her reluctance, the way her grip tightened around mine, a silent plea for understanding.
"It doesn't matter, Hitch," she finally choked out, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine. She finally turned to look at me, her eyes filled with a pain I hadn't seen in years, the pain I knew haunted her. "It's… it's in the past. It doesn't matter."
"It does matter, Fallon," I insisted, my voice softening. "If it hurts you, it matters. If he hurts you, it matters. You don't have to carry anything alone."
Her lips trembled. "He... he used to call me 'his snowflake,'" she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips.
The confession sent a fresh wave of anger through me. It was a name that carried a weight of unwanted attention and the pain she must have endured.
"He made me feel… worthless. Like I was only there for his amusement."
I wanted to stop the car, to pull over and hold her, to shield her from the remnants of her memories. But I knew she needed to tell me, and needed to release the poison that still lingered within her. I held her hand tighter and simply nodded.
"He controlled me, Hitch," she continued, her voice gaining a bit of strength with each word. "He controlled every aspect of my life. He isolated me, made me dependent on him."
She turned her head away, her shoulders shaking, and I didn't say anything, letting her take it all in. I just kept my eyes on the road.
"And then he..." she said after a long silence, her voice flat. "Just... like I was nothing more than a used toy."
The rage that boiled inside me was threatening to overwhelm me. I didn't care about his money or his power or anything else. All I could think about was her, the injustice she had suffered, and the fact that I was powerless to change the past.
"I won't let him hurt you again," I vowed, my voice raw with emotion. "I fucking swear to you, Fallon, I will not let that happen."
She finally turned back to face me, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and a fragile hope. "He's dangerous, Hitch. He's connected. He can make things disappear."
"I don't fucking care," I growled, my jaw clenched. "He's going to regret the fucking day he ever laid eyes on you."
I glanced at her, my heart aching. Her face was ashen, her body rigid. I gently took my other hand and brushed a stray curl from her cheek, feeling the tremor in her skin.
"Will you just... stay with me?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.
I knew then that our lives had changed in an instant.
This wasn't just about a Christmas party or a job or a man I didn't like.
It was about Fallon, about protecting her, and about facing a darkness I knew all too well.
But was she telling me everything? The look in her eyes told me she was holding back, and if I knew anything, it was that I'd be able to get her to open up. .. eventually.