Chapter 41
Wes
The next few minutes are completely surreal.
Watching Nina stand up to Aaron and air out all his dirty laundry is so unexpected, and I am so fucking proud of her.
Then pride morphs into outrage on her behalf as I listen to the story of how he basically pimped her out to some creep in his church, the audio recording of their conversation sending my blood boiling.
But none of that is anything compared to the moment Aaron lays his hands on her.
Pure and blinding fury washes over me. I’m not thinking rationally.
And I’m not thinking tactically. Tactically, I’m still Nate R.
, and even though Nina has just revealed some very incendiary things about Aaron’s character, we still don’t have the proof we need to file charges.
The second Aaron grabs her, though, I stop being Nate R. Nate R. is dead. There is no way in hell I can just stand by and watch that.
I don’t realize what I’ve said out loud until several heads in the crowd swivel to stare at me.
With what’s going on onstage, it would have to be something pretty wild to draw away any attention from that spectacle.
As soon as it clicks for me—that I’ve outed myself and Nina—it’s hard to care, especially when he’s still clutching her shoulder despite her best efforts to squirm away.
“Let her go!” I shout again, pushing my way toward the stage.
Luckily I’m not the only one moving. Someone closer to the stage throws their shoe at him. “Let go of her, asshole!” I recognize the voice as being Deja’s.
Lyle gets onto the stage before me, shoving Aaron back and away from Nina. His normally affable features are twisted with outrage. “Big tough guy, huh, picking on a girl half your size? Why don’t you try that with me?”
Aaron backs away, and Lyle uses his body as a physical barrier to keep him from getting any closer, so I’m able to move directly to Nina once I make it onto the stage myself.
Shaking, she grips me tightly as soon as I get close.
There are tears in her eyes, and the sight of them makes my gut clench.
But I see, too, the way she keeps her chin up, even though she’s clearly trying not to cry.
I’m still buzzing with anger and adrenaline, yet I can’t help but soften at the sight of that. She is so fucking strong, my Nina.
“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her quietly, aware of the people still watching, the cameras still capturing all of this. It’s starting to catch up to me, what I’ve just done, but I’m finding it hard to care. I keep my gaze locked onto hers. She’s the only thing that matters in all of this.
Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, and I can see the pieces clicking into place for her, too. “What about the investigation?” she whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear her.
I don’t care. I should care, but I don’t. I cup her face in my hands. “I’m so proud of you,” I tell her again.
“What the hell?” a voice calls out from the auditorium.
Harmony.
Even though I wish I could keep drowning out the rest of the world, the moment of reckoning is here. With a bracing sigh, I turn to face the crowd, angling my body between them and Nina. If there’s going to be blowback from this, I want it to land on me, not her.
I hold up a hand to block out some of the stage lights. I can see Harmony, her face incredulous, her hands on her hips. Sienna and Raquel are farther back, both of them uncharacteristically discomposed: Sienna’s mouth is open, and Raquel’s eyebrows are up so high they’re almost to her hairline.
Wincing, I seek out Morrie in the crowd. He is going to be so, so pissed. But to my surprise, he isn’t even looking at me. He’s texting something furiously into his phone—probably reporting me to Agent Decker, getting the paperwork started for my firing. God, it’s going to be a lot of paperwork.
“What the hell?” Harmony repeats. I can’t tell if she’s really that outraged, or if she’s just as flabbergasted as the rest of us.
“Harmony!” Aaron chides her from the stage. “Language.”
I can’t help but give him my most scathing look.
After everything that was just revealed about him in these last few minutes, he still has the gall to chastise his daughter for (mildly) swearing.
“Fuck off,” I tell him, enjoying the look of astonishment on his face.
He isn’t used to being told off. Between Nina and Lyle and me, this is the third time it’s happened tonight.
I have a feeling, after the way Nina told her story, it won’t be the last time.
Glancing back at Morrie again, I realize there’s still a way I can salvage this.
My position as one of Harmony’s contestants is clearly over, but there’s no reason anyone needs to connect this back to the FBI.
Maybe they’ll be able to send in an undercover agent another way, once the dust has settled.
“It’s true. I was one of Harmony’s contestants—just a normal guy from Small Town, Tennessee .
. .” That’s probably laying it on too thick, but maybe people will think I’m just shell-shocked from having to make this confession on camera. “But I fell in love with her cousin.”
Too late, I realize it’s the first time I’ve used that word.
Love. At least out loud. It wasn’t exactly how I’d planned on sharing my feelings with Nina, but it’s too late to take it back.
And I don’t want to. How could anyone see what she did on stage tonight, how fearlessly and ruthlessly honest and brave she was, and not be head over heels?
Her hand slips into mine. She gives it a squeeze.
I swallow back the lump in my throat. “So obviously, I’m going to have to leave the show now. I hope Nina will come with me.” Far away from these lights, these cameras. Away from Aaron Miller. Somewhere quiet, just the two of us.
She squeezes my hand again.
From the way the crowd starts murmuring, I think maybe we’ve pulled it off.
No one suspects that I’m anything but one of the contestants who fell in love with a member of the production crew.
It can’t be the first time it’s happened on a show like this.
Still gripping Nina’s hand tightly, I glance over to make sure Lyle is keeping Aaron at bay, then start walking with her toward the stairs so we can make a quick and (hopefully) quiet exit.
“FBI!” Morrie shouts from the crowd.
Goddammit, Morrie, I was covering our tracks! Astonished that he would break cover this way, I stop to look at him.
Morrie is rushing toward the stage, brandishing his phone. “FBI!” he shouts again. “I have a warrant for Aaron Miller’s arrest.”
It’s my turn for my jaw to drop. The crowd erupts in noise. Morrie’s almost to the stage, but Aaron has started backing away, like he might try to run for it.
I guess it’s time for me to finally drop my cover, too. “FBI!” I shout and make a beeline for him.
Sure enough, Aaron spooks and runs toward one of the backstage exits.
He’s pretty quick, but I’m younger and faster, and I have the added bonus of the classic Mission: Impossible theme song playing in my mind from all the times I’ve done speed-running training, trying to be as fast as Tom Cruise in his prime.
I take enormous pleasure in tackling Aaron Miller to the ground. Morrie joins me a moment later, slightly out of breath from all that running. (I bet he wished he trained with Lalo Schifrin’s music now. Maybe he wouldn’t be so winded.) “You wanna do the Miranda warning, or should I?”
“It would be my greatest honor,” I return, pleased as punch. Aaron tries to wriggle out from underneath me, so I use my knee to pin him between his shoulder blades. “Aaron Miller, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . .”
After the dust has settled and Aaron has been removed into custody with the help of local law enforcement (who, luckily, happened to be on-site—apparently the sheriff’s deputy Jackson James always comes to these community center events), I check in quickly with Morrie in the parking lot.
We’ll need to follow after the police units shortly, but we have at least a few minutes to debrief.
“So what’d we get him on?” I ask. I assume something must have come up outside of our investigation here in Green Valley; maybe one of the witnesses was finally able to provide evidence.
“It was Nina,” Morrie informs me. “She sent me a bunch of files from Aaron Miller’s computer.
I couldn’t go through all of them while I was in the audience watching that shitshow unfold, but I heard enough to send it on to Agent Decker.
Plus all that stuff Nina was saying onstage . . .” He shakes his head grimly.
My jaw clenches. I know what he means. All the controlling tactics Miller used on Nina—withholding wages, hiding her passport. Her situation was much, much worse than I realized. “Human trafficking?” I guess.
“Enough to make a solid argument for it, if Nina’s willing to give a statement and present proof.
” We both know she will. Morrie continues, “And at least enough to use probable cause to search his computer. Decker was able to get through an emergency e-warrant while that soap opera was happening onstage.”
He’s not talking about the Aaron Miller stuff now; he’s talking about me, making a fool of myself by rushing up onstage and shouting dramatically about the woman I love. Whatever. He can mock me all he wants. It was badass, and we both know it.
“It was a good strategy,” Morrie adds. “Distracting everyone long enough to buy time for the warrant to come through.”
He meets my gaze. He knows that wasn’t what I was doing. And he also knows I almost blew my cover and wrecked the entire investigation.
He’s giving me a gift. A lifeline. Honestly, I’m not sure I want it anymore. I’m not sure this life is for me. I want to help people, but I don’t know if I can go on pretending.
But Morrie claiming my actions were motivated by strategy buys me some options.
And it proves that deep, deep, deep down, he loves me just as much as I love him.
If I thought he would accept a manly embrace, I would offer it, but instead I clap him on the shoulder.
I can’t resist needling him just a bit, though. “Thanks, Papa Bear.”
He rolls his eyes at me, immediately moving away. “Ruin it. You always ruin it, man . . .”
With that all settled, I backtrack, overcome all at once with the need to find Nina, just to make sure she’s all right, before I have to go down to the local jail. Aaron Miller is in custody, so I know she’s physically safe, but I need to know she’s okay—
Before I can make it even a few steps, I see her. She’s standing outside the auditorium, waiting for me. I run to her, shamelessly, needing to be near her, and she runs to me.
We meet in the middle, half colliding against each other. I pick her up in my arms and hold her as tight as I can. I have to leave soon, I know, in just a few minutes; but I also know I don’t want to leave her, not ever again.
“You did so good,” I tell her. She doesn’t even know the half of it yet.
I can’t wait to tell her how amazing she really was tonight and what she managed to accomplish.
It’s too complicated to explain, though, in the short amount of time we have, and I just want to hold her.
I need to hold her. “You did so, so good.”
She clings onto me just as tightly. She’s so strong, but somehow she seems to need me as much as I need her.
I don’t know what I did to deserve her, in this life or any other, but I feel like the fucking luckiest man on the planet.
I’m going to spend the rest of my life being the man she needs me to be.
Not Cass. Not Nate R. Just me.