38. Enslee #2
“Words are weapons of the demonized, Enslee. No matter what one says, they can be twisted and contorted to fit a narrative. I’m not in the business of giving others more to talk about.”
“But they’re saying that you… ahh… that you’re responsible for whatever happened to Layla Harte.”
“Silence speaks much louder than mistruths. Now, are we done here?”
I saw him reach for the phone he had cocked between his ear and shoulder, and I quickly blurted out. “No, please. Don’t go.”
He grabbed the phone but held it as he stared impassively at me. “Continue.”
“Have they said anything else about the weapon?”
“Only that her blood was present on it.” I made a mental note to do additional research on Layla Harte.
Before, the majority of my research had been focused on Brogan, but I needed to focus on her too.
“I’d really like to stop talking about things you can log onto the computer to see or turn on the news to hear. ”
“Fair enough. Do you have enough money in your commissary account?”
He grinned, but it did not reach his eyes. “I have plenty of money.”
“Yes, of course,” I said, realizing he was a fucking billionaire.
Of course he didn’t need the few hundred dollars I’d been prepared to give him.
“Do you need anything? Maybe a time machine?” I asked the latter in teasing, hoping to expand on his earlier smile no matter how faint it’d been. But nothing.
“I wish I could produce one for more reasons than one. I…” and his voice trailed off.
I could tell he wanted to say or ask me something, so I cleared my throat. “If you have something to say, just spit it out.”
I saw him exhale, then watched his eyes slightly soften. “I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about how everything had gone down before the… It never would’ve seen the light of day. It was a stupid and foolish thing to do. A security blanket, I guess, but nothing we ever planned to… ahh…”
I knew he’d been talking about the blackmail videos. “I appreciate that, and I want you to know that I do believe you. There was a lot going on at the time, but I care about you and what happens. If you’re not opposed to it, I'd like to work on your case and see what I can find.”
“I could tell you not to, but since I’m stuck in here, there’s little I can do to stop you.”
This time I smiled at him. “That’s an excellent point.”
“May I ask you why you’d even bother?”
I had no idea if he thought Declan had put me up to it or something altogether different, but I wanted and needed to do this for me. “I’d like to think we’re friends, or might be one day. I care about you, and I believe in your innocence.”
“It’s whatever. There’s nothing I can do from here.”
It slightly stung not to have him admit to us being friends, much less indicating that he cared about me. I supposed with these visits being recorded that it’d make sense, but he seemed so defeated. It wasn’t like the man I’d met, even if I hadn’t known the true Brogan.
“I'd like to see you again one day if you’re not opposed to me visiting. I wasn't on the list of approved visitors, but they let me in this time. Next time, they might not, so I’d like to be added to that list.”
He was silent for several long seconds before nodding his head. “I’ll have you added.”
I grew quiet as it was getting harder to stay in code, especially since the one thing I wanted to ask him the most was the one thing I couldn't risk voicing aloud in here. I wouldn't want to set off any alarms and make them think he’d been having an affair while Layla had been gone, even though he’d fucked me senseless on multiple occasions.
I'd wanted that so I could never fully fault him.
I also wanted to ask him if he missed me, or if he even ever thought about me, but I couldn't do that, either.
I also wanted to tell Brogan that I missed him, but again, it wasn't something I was able to say. An announcement came overhead stating that visitation was ending. I pressed one hand to the partition, as he pressed his to the glass on the other side.
“Just keep the faith, Brogan. I’ll use any bit of influence I have to help you.”
I had far less than his own father had, but he still let out a sigh, then spoke. “I appreciate it.” For a moment, it looked as if he’d wanted to say something else, but he set the phone down instead, and I watched him stand up.
Moments later, he walked over to the officers who once again cuffed his wrists and ankles before leading him back through those doors. As they did, tears sprang to my eyes, but I held them inside the best I could. It was only when I was headed away from Rikers that I allowed them to finally fall.
I hated seeing him like that, especially since he was such a proud man.
And more importantly, I believed him to be an innocent one, so to be relegated and treated like a violent criminal hurt me more than I thought it ever would.
I was getting too emotionally involved over this case, and the best thing I could do was abandon it and move on.
Any help I could provide would be nothing more than his own legal team and family could.
Declan. I’d promised him that I’d try to help.
Deciding I should go and see him now, I headed to Staten Island as soon as I made it back to my van.
He’d given me the code to the gate, which I input into the keypad before driving down the long driveway to the house.
I parked in the circular drive out front, then slowly got out of the car.
As I looked at the house, a slew of memories came rushing back, and I couldn’t shake the last time I’d been here.
It'd been the day in which I’d recovered my memories.
A day when I’d held Brogan at gunpoint and promised myself that I’d make both men pay for what they’d done to me.
Now, I felt no anger, only experiencing sadness.
For Declan… For Brogan… For me… Shaking my head, I remembered Declan’s own dejected tone the last time I’d spoken to him, so I made my way to the front door.
Declan opened it before I could even raise my hand to the doorbell.
He moved aside to let me in, and once I stepped into the house, the coldness immediately chilled me to the bone.
Before, there’d been signs of life in this space, but not now.
There were no lingering cologne or perfume scents, fresh flowers that Edna liked to fuss with, or any warmth whatsoever.
As I turned suddenly, I hadn’t realized Declan was right there behind me until I knocked something out of his hand.
The shattering of glass snapped me out of whatever daze I was in, and we both knelt down at the same time.
I beat him to it, and as I picked up the now broken frame, I stared at the photograph of a laughing Declan and Brogan.
A sharp pinch to my chest had me quickly thrusting it back toward him as I rose to my feet.
“Thanks for coming,” Declan said.
“How are you holding up?” I asked, knowing from the looks of it that he wasn’t.
“As good as can be expected,” he lied, and I pursed my lips together.
“If you want my help, you need to be honest with me, Declan.”
“I’m sorry. I’m fucking losing my shit. Is that better?” he asked before moving to the kitchen to get a broom and dustpan.
As he swept up the glass, I shifted on my feet. “All I’m trying to say is that you don't have to put a strong face on for me. I know how hard this is for you.”
“It’s complete agony because I feel so helpless.”
“I know how much you loved Brogan.”
“Love!” he emphasized. “It’ll never be past tense.”
“Of course. I just meant that you love him, and I know he still loves you too. When I saw him earlier, it—"