48. Enslee
Icould feel the nervous energy radiating off him but couldn't say I was surprised about why he’d done what he’d done.
I knew he’d essentially closed the door on that topic of conversation, so my mind went back to what he’d said about his family.
Again, I hadn’t been surprised that his parents had been so supportive of him.
I could tell how much he respected his father just from the way he talked about the man.
It was in complete contrast to how Brogan had spoken about his own father, and rightfully so.
Stanley Sinclair was a monster. Anyone who could do what he’d done to his own son was despicable, disgusting, cruel, and his son was still suffering for it to this day.
Brogan had shared with me that he’d not fought his father over his relationship for fear that he’d be removed from the company that generations of Sinclair men had built, and for nothing more than wanting to love and be loved in return.
I had no idea how my own grandparents would’ve reacted had I been in his shoes.
I never got a chance to know my mother or father, although the latter was for the best. He’d written me letters wanting to get to know me before his execution, but I’d never wanted to.
I'd loved my grandparents, at least until my grandfather turned on me.
It made me wonder if Brogan had ever loved his father. Had his father's cruelty been flicked on like a light switch when he’d caught Brogan with Declan? Or had that same hatred and cruelty extended to him his entire life?
A sharp pain pierced my chest as I wanted nothing more than to race back to New York to hold Brogan in my arms, which was crazy because I should’ve been as far away from him and Declan as I possibly could.
These men had tricked me. They’d made me believe we'd been in love when we’d been complete strangers instead.
They'd had sex with me and made my body come to life. And it hadn't been just sex. It’d also been the way they’d cared for me and just seemed to know what I’d needed when I had no idea myself.
I’d never guessed that it hadn't come from familiarity.
And while both men obviously liked women, I now knew they'd been exclusive until me.
I glanced over at Declan, watching as he braced his arms against the wall and bowed his head.
The men had been so good… their lies so synchronized…
their touch so consuming. Again, it should’ve filled me with anger, but it was more disappointment, and not even aimed where it should’ve been.
I should’ve been disappointed with them, but it fell on myself instead because, despite knowing the truth, I was still here putting myself on the line for a mission that could prove to be dangerous.
I wasn't talking to somebody tucked safely behind bars with cameras and guards.
I wasn't even talking in a controlled environment to someone who’d evaded justice or had been cleared by it.
Brogan and Declan might’ve been responsible for Layla’s disappearance, even though I knew he wouldn't be down here possibly throwing away his entire career if all he’d wanted to do was cover his tracks.
He could’ve sent anybody else to do that.
Men with his status, power, and money could make anything happen.
I might’ve been from a small town, but I knew how the world worked.
I'd met my fair share of people along the way from big cities, small towns, and everything in between.
While some used their power for good, others used it for evil.
We definitely knew which category Stanley Sinclair fell into.
Still, I had rose-colored glasses on when it came to these men.
I believed they were good men who’d fallen into an unfortunate situation.
As the silence stretched on between us, I knew that was why I was here.
Yes, the man in front of me was an actor, and a damn good one, but this was serious because the man he loved might never see the light of day again.
And I might have the ability to change that… to actually impact a future instead of just throwing my own away as I’d done once before. Granted, helping them could turn me into an accomplice, but I’d helped lots of others, whether it be victims or perpetrators.
I truly believed Brogan was innocent of whatever happened, and I knew Declan was wracked with guilt over contributing to it.
Just as I felt vehemently in my bones that these men who’d deceived me were not monsters, I also believed the blonde was still alive no matter what evidence they found.
After all, evidence could be planted and tampered with.
It could be destroyed, and so could lives.
That was why I was here in Mexico. It wasn’t to fall back into Declan’s arms, although being with him had been great.
Still, I’m such a fool!
My body had craved his touch because I'd missed him.
It was crazy because I'd only had a few weeks with the men, but they'd been life-altering ones.
And for two men that seemed so put together, they were broken in different ways.
Brogan carried the scars of his past, and ones that had barely even turned to scabs.
They were open wounds that continued to fester as they haunted him.
And Declan, while he had the love and support of his parents, was broken in a different way. His heart could never be whole because he’d been made to hide who he was, and hiding one's true self was nothing but a lie. For him, it’d been one he'd been forced to live for over a decade.
And me. I was beginning to suspect I was a lost cause where those two were concerned.
Even after everything that’d happened between us all, I'd still scream from the rooftop that I'd loved them. Love! It was actually a present term because my feelings had not changed. They’d been clouded over by anger, but once the dust had settled, the way I felt remained the same.
There were reasons why I needed to stay quiet, and the biggest was that my love was unrequited.
I might love them, but they don’t love me. They love each other.
And their love was beautiful. It was pure.
It was honest. Yet Declan and Brogan were forced to live a secret life, unable to publicly do the things that normal couples did.
While they could hang out together, it could only be as friends.
They could attend baseball games, take backpacking trips, and show up for one another at events, but they couldn't do it as a couple.
They couldn't hold hands or kiss to express their love around others.
One had been forced to parade a fake fiancée on his arm, while the other had to embody his bachelorhood in the media's eyes.
Something pierced my chest, and I swallowed down what I tasted as jealousy.
I was envious that these men had something most people could only dream about: the complete adoration of another.
My own father didn't even consider me worthy enough to live. He'd wanted to end my life before it even had a chance to begin. And my grandmother, she’d told me that one day I’d grow into a beautiful princess and later a queen.
Those foolish dreams were easier to believe when you were five or six years old. Not so much when you were twenty-six.
My grandfather used to echo what she’d say about one day making someone happy when, in reality, he’d methodically ripped away the innocence, the hope, and mostly the dreams of a future until he’d broken me down.
It was then that he’d cruelly remind me that I was damaged goods.
No one would ever truly want me, and I’d never deluded myself into believing anything different until Brogan and Declan.
Sure, I'd had my share of flings. I'd even tried to date one guy after leaving Alabama, but it’d only lasted a few months. There’d been too much distance between us.
He'd lived in Phoenix, and I was off roaming the country in my van. We’d talked as often as time allowed, and I'd gone to Phoenix a few times, but I wouldn’t give up my life to move there with him.
At the time, I didn’t want to tie myself down to one place, then take up a job and live a life of normalcy because I wasn't normal. That’d also been something drilled into my head by my grandfather.
I was abnormal. It’d been a miracle that I had survived, and instead of being able to be happy about the fact that I had, it’d instead become a noose around my neck.
It was something I deserved to be punished for instead of celebrated.
After that relationship basically fizzled out, I'd had a few one-night stands here and there. I didn't need a man because I was building a career, a life, and one of complete freedom where I was tied down to nothing and no one.
I didn't have to sit there waiting for doctors to come in and out of the house.
I didn't have to give away my hopes and my dreams for the future.
I could go out and grab them, live them, experience them.
And I had, until one fateful night changed everything.
I’d gotten a taste of exactly what I’d never wanted, and it was now something I wanted more than anything else.
Despite that, I wouldn’t send any foolish prayers up in the universe for myself because they’d only go unanswered.
Besides, I wasn’t here for me. And, not even entirely here for Brogan and Declan, either.
I’m here for justice… For the truth… For the pursuit of happiness, even if not my own.
A sigh escaped as I glanced back up at Declan, who’d moved from his previous position.
He was now shifting nervously on his feet as he stared through the slider door at the mountains.
I was reminded of a quote by Henry David Thoreau where he’d famously said that the mountains were a place of lost truths, and a place where one could contemplate their existence.
I was tired of doing that regarding myself, so I tried to clear my head.
We had to be getting closer to the truth. I could almost feel and taste it.
“What the hell’s taking so long?” I murmured, and Declan turned around to face me.
“What?” he asked.
I flashed a small smile and was about to elaborate when a chime pierced the silence in the room. I immediately looked down, knowing what it was from. Quickly, I pulled up the video app, and when I did, my heart started to stutter in my chest.
“Declan. Declan!” I said a little louder the second time.
He hurried over to me. “What is it?”
“We've got action.”
“Is it at the bank?”
“Yes. How quickly can you get somebody there?”
“I have someone right next door to it.” Declan quickly got on the phone, and I could hear him speaking in a rushed tone.
As he talked, I quickly opened the app on my phone, closed down my laptop, then threw on my shoes while he did the same.
The call ended, and he looked over at me.
I could see the hopefulness etched across his handsome features. “Is it possible?”
“Let’s go see who this woman is, then we’ll go from there.”
He nodded, then ushered me out of the room. We rushed across the resort to his rental car. The excited, yet nervous energy rolled off us in waves, and as he peeled out of the parking lot, he reached across me and opened the glovebox, revealing a gun.
“W-what is that?”
“A negotiating tool,” was all he said, and I stared open-mouthed at him.
I had little time to say or do anything else because we reached the bank, and in the back of the parking lot, I saw a blonde surrounded by a group of men. “Do you think it’s her?”
“I sure as fuck hope so, but there's only one way to find out.”