7. No DNA test required
Chapter 7
No DNA test required
LETTIE
“ T he thing about Big Al is you can’t take his gruffness personally. He was in the military for a long time. They often communicate differently than those who come from the corporate world.” The smile Peggy’s been wearing since I joined her at her desk an hour ago finally wanes. I was beginning to worry she was having a stroke. “I don’t mean to say that he’s an angry man. He’s not. And he certainly isn’t ungrateful or rude. It’s just he...”
Sensing she’s being incredibly careful with her word choices, I wait her out. As much as my ADHD squirrel scratches at my vocal cords, begging me to interrupt her so she’ll spit it out, I manage to resist. Barely . However, if she takes much longer to tell me he can be a grump sometimes, I can’t promise my restraint will last much longer.
Finally, she ends my torture. “He cusses a lot. He sometimes forgets his manners, and when he’s busy, he barks out orders. However, that’s only in the moment. Later, when he’s not as rushed, he’s always so kind and showers me in praise.”
Giggle. Praise . Double giggle.
Although the idea of my birth father praising me is entirely different than when Tomer does it, I smile wide and bright anyhow.
“I understand, Peggy. And none of that bothers me. I’m quite used to working around bossy men.” Attempting to spare us both some embarrassment, I end the sentence there rather than admitting they’re Doms ata sex club.
Speaking of which, I wonder if Boss Dad knows about Bask. Does he know Tomer goes there? What if he asks for my work references? Or makes me fill out a job application with employment history?
Oh, sugar smacks.
When I took the job at Bask, I was at rock bottom. I didn’t have a pot to piss in nor a window to toss it out. And I certainly never considered what would happen when I wanted to move on with my career.
Gasp . Can you imagine? Me not thinking through consequences? That’s unheard of. A once in a lifetime occurrence. Triple giggle.
Peggy’s droning on about her digital file system while I’m quashing the urge to run and hide under Tomer’s desk so he can pet my hair. Everything’s better when he’s comforting me.
Oh, duh . Tomer can fix it.
If they ask me to fill anything out, I’ll simply tell them I’ll do it tonight. By then, Tomer can create a whole new identity for me.
Don’t laugh . It’s not hypocritical. I’ll have you know it’s a perfectly reasonable strategy to avoid telling Boss Dad I’m a kinky girl. That’s what my inner delulu told me. And I trust that bitch.
Peggy twists in her chair, spinning to face me and away from the computer. “Any question on this so far?”
“None that come to mind.”
Because my brain is a toxic trash heap.
“Good. That’s good.” Her eyes search the desk, and she taps her chin with an age-weathered fingertip.“Let’s see. What else?”
Time for a mental pep talk. She’ll be gone in a few hours, and I’ll be floundering like a fish on a dock unless I absorb as much as possible.
Focus, Lettie. You can do this.
She claps. “ Ah . I know. Let’s discuss his calendar.”
Grabbing my notepad, I prepare to take notes on her process. “Sounds good.”
After briefly explaining their shared calendar system, she pivots to discuss how she screens his calls and points me to his VIP contact list of local law enforcement and government officials, among other notable figures. When she gets to the part about how to handle pop-in visitors, we share a chuckle.
Despite the frustration she flung at me on the day I barged in here, she quickly recovered once she realized the gravity of the situation. Her ire at me further faded when she learned I had no clue about the mess I walked into the morning after the shooting.
I’ve already filled about six pages in my notepad by the time my new boss exits his office. His eyes bulge when he sees me sitting with Peggy. Almost instantly, his shock morphs into amusement. He strides over, his eyes flickering between Peggy and me.
As soon as she sees him approach, her posture straightens. “What do you need, Boss?”
“Nothing. I’m heading over to the lair. The team has something to show me.”
Color me curious.
He cuts his cunning gaze at me, one corner of his mouth twitching upward. “You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”
Briefly, I contemplate fudging the truth. But I’ve never been a good liar. And what’s the point?
“I have. I’ll fill in for Peggy.”
“Did you talk to...” His words trail off as he tips his head down the hall.
“Tomer?” I confirm.
His expression sags, and it breaks my freaking heart. The other night, Tomer told me how strained their relationship has been since I came in with horns blowing to herald the news of my existence.
Although I don’t know their entire history, it doesn’t take a genius to see they care about each other.
I answer him with a steady voice. “Yes. I spoke with him after I left your office. He’s good with it, so long as I think I can handle it. And I do.”
“What about your therapist?”
Glancing at the corner of Peggy’s computer monitor, I note the time. “My video appointment with her isn’t for another two hours.”
With a subtle shake of his head, he says, “As much as I’d like to insist you wait, I have a sneaky suspicion nothing I say will help.”
Peggy chortles quietly.“You saw how she came in here the other day, Boss. Quite stubborn this one.”
My cheeks grow ruddy, and I bite my lip to hold back a snarky retort.
A deep grumble comes from his chest. “Definitely my daughter.” He taps his knuckles on the corner of the desk. “I’m going over there so they can explain why staging a mission to capture a perp in broad daylight is a good idea.”
No amount of lip biting can hold back my question. “Capture? Perp?”
His lips turn white from how firmly he presses them together. “Yeah. They found Yev.”
It’s not a lump that lodges in my throat, but an entire friggin’ mountain. My right knee starts bobbing frantically, and I glance down the hall and back to Big Al about twenty-seven times.
He notices my reaction. “Relax, kid. He’ll be fine.”
“He’s going?” I squeak out around my throat mountain, scooting to the edge of my chair as if I’m about to bolt.
His broad shoulders raise in a slow shrug. “That’s what I’m gonna find out.”
Speechless, I watch him bustle off.
If Tomer has a chance to go after Yev, I’m sure he’ll take it. Never been more certain of anything.
I suspect Peggy knows that my training has been cut short. Reaching over, she taps my forearm, drawing my attention back to her comforting face. “Want to order some food? Did you bring something to eat? It’s lunchtime.”
Hungry as I’ve been for the last few hours, I can’t seem to find my appetite. Instead of answering, I ask a question of my own. “Do you ever listen in to those types of discussions?”
“Only if he asks me to, which is rare.”
I expel my breath in a huff. “Bummer.”
“I can’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, sweetheart.” Her mocha eyes swirl with compassion. “But they are highly skilled. Boss doesn’t let them get carried away. He’ll keep them safe.”
Her words only partially smooth my tumultuous fears.
“Worrying about Tomer’s safety is one thing. And I am quite concerned. Most definitely. For the others too,” I confess, daring to let go of another admission. “I want to see it for myself. Whatever they do to him. In fact, I wish I could go along.”
The wrinkles around her mouth deepen with her concerned scowl. “Oh no, sweetie. You don’t. Not only will it be dangerous, but seeing something like that could be harmful to your recovery.”
“Yev is one of the guys who abducted me from that club. And he... hurt me.” I widen my eyes to convey my meaning, my jaw clicking. “Badly. I deserve vengeance of my own, or at a minimum, I deserve to witness it.”
Whether I can handle that is another story.
Is little old sugar-sweet Lettie the type of girl who could stomach watching anyone get hurt? Even if he deserves it? Because let’s be real, if Tomer goes, he’s going to hurt Yev. Especially after what he saw on that recording.
Then again, I’m not the same Lettie I was before they dragged me into that nightmare house.
Instead of breaking my spirit, they unleashed a new side of me. One who’s far less fragile.
Of course, I’m still Lettie. They didn’t destroy the good parts of me—my loyalty, forgiveness, and kindness. And by all means, they didn’t and will never take my happiness.
Yet there’s nothing stopping me from blending the old me with the new and emerging a better version. One daring enough to look her abuser in the face and smile when they take him away.
Perhaps Peggy can track the thoughts racing through my mind because her expression shifts from protective grandmother to resigned acceptance. Crinkles and creases by her eyes, mouth, and forehead all release and soften, and her jaw hangs slack.
“You’re so much like him. No DNA test required.”
Tension evaporates from my muscles. “Did you intend for that to sound like a good thing?”
She winks at me. Coming from her, the gesture is simultaneously sweet and bizarre. “Just be careful it doesn’t get you into trouble.”
Probably a little late for her advice, but I’ll let it slide.
Since I didn’t jump at her lunch suggestion, we resume our training. Five minutes later, I’ve caught about two sentences of what she said. Hell , I’m not entirely sure of the topic, let alone the details. When my phone buzzes with an incoming text, I use it as an excuse to take a break.
“I should get this. Mind if I stretch my legs?”
“Sure thing. I’ll go have lunch in the break room. I should be back in thirty minutes or so. See you whenever you return.”
Rising swiftly, I fold the cover over the notepad and push the chair back to the other side of her desk. “Thanks, Peggy.”
Excusing myself to the hallway, I lean against the wall and check my phone. Disappointment that it’s not Tomer bleeds into a twinge of panic when I read the message. Shit.
Stella:
Freya and I want to come have lunch with you. Is that cool with the threat level at the shelter or whatever? If not, we need to figure out a way to see you. We love and miss you. You’ve been so quiet lately. We’re worried about you, Lettie bear.
Well, cream my corn and butter my biscuits.
It’s been well over a week of me dodging her calls and giving her short replies to conceal that I’m no longer at the shelter. I suppose it’s time to put my money where my mouth is. If I’m strong enough to face down Yev, I should be able to tell my pint-sized bestie that I’m back with Tomer.
And that I let him collar me and will absolutely say yes when he asks me to marry him.
My fingertips trace the choker around my neck.
Colorful expressions about corn and biscuits ain’t quite strong enough for this feeling of dread. Let’s see how else I can describe it.
The excrement is about to hit the rotary oscillator, and I'm not wearing a raincoat.
Yeah. That’s more like it.