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SIX MONTHS LATER
March 2012
I sit at my computer, researching a paper for my midterm in criminal ethics. It’s a dry subject, but a mandatory class. Thankfully, I only have a month left of this semester, and one more year after that. This summer, I’ll start my higher-level classes. I can’t wait. I’ve already mapped out evidence to support my thesis. The research is slow-going, but I work on it every chance I get.
“One step closer to freedom.”
My phone vibrates at my hip. Glancing at the caller ID, I sit up. Excitement filters through me. “Marks? Awesome, man. You got something?”
The gruff voice reminiscent of a three-pack-a-day smoker filters through the speaker. “I’m not sure if it’s the same girl. She’s hard to find.”
I press my forehead against the table. “Tell me about it.” I’ve combed the social media sites daily looking for the last person who can close the book on my nightmares. And Daniel Marks’ help has been invaluable.
I met my new friend, a computer savant, in one of my cyber-crimes classes last semester. The guy isn’t very sociable, but he has the necessary skills to find the people I’m looking for.
Grabbing a piece of paper and a pen, I clear my throat. “No problem, man. What do you have?”
“You ever heard of Newport Academy?”
I frown. “No. Where is it?”
“They’re all over the US, but this one’s a private facility near Minneapolis. Looks like a nice place.”
“I’m sure it is. They would have spared no expense for their daughter. Did you get anything substantial?”
Marks laughs. “That’s why you’re paying me, right?” Papers shuffle, and he says, “I intercepted an email she sent to her parents from a new address. She’s being released in three weeks but she has to remain in her parents’ care. She hates the food, made good friends... yadda, yadda. She’s looking forward to sleeping in her own bed.”
“How long has she been there?”
More shuffling. “About three years. She was admitted March of 2009. That’s all I’ve got. Unless you want me to hack into her medical records, but that’ll cost you triple. It’s a major offense.”
I roll my eyes. “Everything we’re doing is a felony, man.”
Marks chuckles. “Yeah. But I haven’t been caught yet.”
Acid churns in my stomach. Damn, I hope this doesn’t come back to bite me in the ass. I’m pushing my luck using this guy’s expertise. Marks is the best hacker around, but he’s overzealous at times. He gets a high from standing on the proverbial tightwire, like he wants to get caught.
I clear my throat. “And what about the other end of this? You got anything?”
Marks grumbles, “I’ve combed the school admissions records of the Upper Peninsula universities, but I got nada. You sure that’s where your girl’s supposed to be?”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I close my eyes. I can’t find Penny anywhere. She’s gone completely off the grid. She isn’t living with Miranda anymore. Apparently, the bitch kicked Penny out the day she turned eighteen. And after the incident at the country club, she left the city altogether. My mother hasn’t elaborated on the story, but she was just as upset about the situation as I was.
According to Colt, Pen isn’t in Ann Arbor with him, either. Whenever I ask about her, he keeps things vague. She’s traveling, she’s going to school, everything’s fine. I’ve heard it all.
I’m getting desperate.
I grunt. “That’s the story her brother gave me.”
“Yeah, I don’t think he’s bein’ truthful, man.”
Like a bolt of lightning, a surge of anger rushes through me. No fucking way. Why would Colt lie to me about where Penny is? I’m his best friend.
“Hate to tell you this, but she doesn’t want to be found. We might need to ramp this up.”
No shit. Last summer, after witnessing Christy humiliate Penny so heinously, I decided to take my plans a step further. I haven’t been able to sleep without her tear-stained face haunting my dreams.
Never mind the weird sexual thoughts I’ve had about her since she schooled me like a boss. How many times have I awoken with a hard on, wishing to God I’d seized the moment and kissed her like I’d wanted to the night of her accident?
At the time, it felt like betrayal to hit on my best friend’s sister. I let my conscience get in the way. Guilt had marched through me, led by Colton Ramsay’s vanguards. I wish I would have kicked my chivalrous self in the nuts and just listened to my heart.
I lean my forehead against the table and sigh. Penny’s vulnerability and innocence stokes something primal in me that I have yet to figure out. All I want to do is protect her. To see her happy. To feel her sunshine once more. She’s no longer just down the street. She’s out in the world all alone. And it’s my fault. That’s why I have to find her. I have to make everything right.
“Bro, you there? I got our target’s new address.”
Opening my contacts, I say, “Yep. Go ahead.” As I save her new email, I click into PayPal. “Thanks, Marky. I’ll transfer payment now.
“Pleasure doin’ business, Donovan. Let me know when you’re ready to move this along.”
I end the call and send the money. I’ve used up most of my savings to end this drama that has encompassed my life. Is it worth it?
Staring at my newly acquired information, I take a deep breath. Hell yes, it is. Hannah Sparks will be returning to Rochester Hills in three weeks, and I’ll finally get the answers I’ve been looking for.
“She’d better be ready to give me the fucking truth.”
*****
ONE WEEK LATER
“I care about you, Pen. More than you think I do.”
As Penny gazes up at me, her emerald eyes holding me hostage, my breath hitches. I stroke her cheek, brushing a finger across her cracked lips. “You’re fucking beautiful, Sunshine.” Seizing the moment, I pull her closer.
Her gorgeous breasts heave, exposing the deep cleavage as she gasps. “Luke?”
I press an airy kiss at the side of her mouth. “Yeah, baby. I’m here. I will always be here for you.”
“The hell you will! Let go of my sister!”
Alarms blare in my ear like a warning bell. Jolted awake, I blink rapidly as my vision clears. My heart pummels my chest like a herd of stampeding horses.
Fuck, I fell asleep.
My books are strewn across my dining room table, along with a puddle of slobber. My phone rings incessantly. Glancing at the caller ID, I immediately send it to voicemail.
“Son, it’s Dad. Why haven’t you answered my phone calls? Jamie’s coming home this weekend. We need to talk.”
Tossing my device aside, I curse under my breath. “I don’t need this shit.” Stretching, I adjust my semi and stand.
I haven’t talked to my family in over a month. Right now, I don’t need to hear that my very successful brother Jamie made partner at his prestigious law firm. Or that he’s getting married to a woman who’s as successful as he is. Most likely that’s what it is. Jamie’s been dating Renee Holifield for nearly a decade. The daughter of a rich Detroit family—and a rising star in the field of law—she is pre-approved and meets the Donovan’s platinum standard as perfect.
“Good for her.”
Slamming the chair under the table, I stalk to the kitchen and take a power drink from the fridge. The day I do anything Joe Donovan is proud of, I’ll jump off the Mackinac Bridge.
Of course, my grades haven’t been stellar. My GPA dropped from a 3.9 to a 3.4 after I got a C in one of my classes last semester. My father was livid. I can recite his lecture about keeping up with my grades, taking the LSAT, and getting into a good law school by heart.
I stop mid-swallow. Fuck, that’s what this is about. I’m in my last year of college—supposedly. Jamie’s coming home. My dad is going to use him to brow beat me into taking the entrance exams for law school.
Picking up the research I’ve done on the Rhodes Scholarship, I sigh. My parents still don’t know about my changed plans.
They also don’t know that I spend ten hours a week at the YMCA’s after-school program interviewing troubled teens about their bullying issues—with appropriate consent and supervision, of course. I’m hoping to use the data as evidence for my thesis about the effects of childhood bullying on women and their later association with crimes. I talked to my advisor about taking on such a complicated subject, and she hooked me up with the program director at the Y.
No matter how excited I am about this prospect, it doesn’t change the fact that my parents are still in the dark.
My phone beeps with an incoming message:
Marky Marks: Got her tagged, bro. She’s home early.
My pulse accelerates. My parents certainly aren’t aware of my amateur investigation now taking a new turn. Hannah Sparks has returned from a stay in a fancy rehab facility. I’ve run out of time. I haven’t come up with an exact plan, but I need a way of engaging her for the truth without Christy finding out. As far as I know, they no longer talk. But they’re still family.
And I refuse to speak to Christy Mefford about anything. I don’t want any contact with that bitch. I haven’t spoken to her since we broke up last summer, and it’s been the best year of my life. I’ve hung out with friends and focused on my schoolwork. My ulcer has disappeared. Win-win-win.
My doorbell rings. Placing the scholarship information on the coffee table, I go to the door. Peering out the peephole, I swing the door wide. “Mom?”
Caroline Donovan’s brown eyes glimmer with hope as she stands on my doorstep. “Is it okay to stop for a visit? I had a conference for continuing education at the auditorium.”
Smiling, I give her a hug. Most of my pressure comes from my father, not her. If anything, Mom has supported my feelings for Penny from the start. In fact, she probably loves Penny as much as I do. “Sure. I’m just studying. One midterm left.”
She pats my cheek. As I lead her into the living room, I motion to the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”
She removes her coat and places her briefcase on the floor before settling herself on the couch. “Water would be nice.”
Returning with a bottle, I hand it to her. Her fingers are poised over the research I’ve done on the Rhodes Scholarship. She looks at me with wide eyes. “Luke!”
Grunting, I remove it from the coffee table and sigh. “Mom, don’t start...”
Pressing her lips together, she holds up a hand. “I won’t say a word to anyone.” She removes the cap from her bottle and takes a drink. “Although, I’m sure your father would be happy that you have some sort of plan after you graduate. It’s only a month away. Have you gotten any details about the ceremony?”
Sinking into the chair next to the couch, I give her a sidelong glance. I can’t keep this up. She deserves to know the truth.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “I won’t be graduating this year.” Her eyes narrow as she halts mid-drink. I quickly add, “I signed up for the five-year master’s degree program in criminology.”
A broad smile sweeps across her cheeks. “Honey, that’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Seriously? You think Dad would approve? He’s been bugging me about taking the LSAT for months.”
She sighs. “As an educator, I couldn’t be prouder. And deep down, I think Dad wants what’s best for you.”
I harumph. “Doubtful.”
She sits forward. “Don’t you think he has his own issues? Your father’s expectations of his sons follow a sad family pattern. He grew up in a family that values wealth and glory, and he feels like he’s failed.”
I frown. “How?”
“He’s merely a captain of the police force while your uncle is a lead prosecutor for the state and your aunt sits on the Michigan Appellate Court. Your grandfather expected too much, and Joe didn’t measure up.”
I tap a finger on the arm of the chair. I never thought of that. The Donovans are an old family in Detroit, and what little I can remember of my grandfather isn’t positive. We hardly see him. “I don’t get it. Dad’s a respected man in a dangerous field. Why is he ashamed of that?”
She shrugs. “I don’t think that’s the word he’d use. In the wake of his older siblings and their expertise in their respected fields, he doesn’t feel as accomplished.” She presses her lips together. “But he’s hoping to change that soon.”
The hair on my arms prickles. “What does that mean?”
“He’s running for mayor.”
I settle back against the chair and shake my head. “That’s why he wants to talk to me. Why Jamie’s coming home.”
She nods. “We’re having a party at the country club this weekend to declare his candidacy. He wants us all by his side.”
I groan. It has to be at the fucking country club, doesn’t it? I stare at my mom and sigh. What choice do I have? She and my father picked up my housing payments after I lost my full-ride scholarship from swimming. I can’t let them down. It isn’t like I have much going on, anyway. “I assume it’s formal attire?”
Patting my knee, she grins. “I always knew you were the good one. He’ll make the announcement and thank his donors. And that’s it.” Opening her mouth, she gives me a sidelong glance as if she has something to add.
“What?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. I ran into Miranda at the gas station yesterday.”
I scoff. “That so? What’d she say?” Was she even sober?
“Colton was accepted into the FBI Academy. He has a few more months at his post grad internship and he’ll be heading to Virginia for five months.”
Stuffing my hands in my pockets, I rock back on my heels. “I know. He told me.” I clear my throat. “Did she say anything about Penny?”
Mom’s smile disappears. “No. And I wasn’t going to ask. I’m not sure what the situation is or why Penny moved away, but Miranda acts like she never had a daughter.”
For the millionth time, my heart shatters for the little girl who just wanted to be accepted. It’s sadder that I’ve seen more than a couple of those kids in my YMCA study population. It’s a true epidemic.
I shake my head. “Colt says she’s in the Upper Peninsula, but he won’t elaborate.”
She smiles. “I love that you want to champion Penny. You always have. But I don’t think you need to worry. I have a feeling she’s doing better than you think she is. Even as a child, she was resilient. As a woman, she oozes strength.” She cocks her head. “Why does it matter?”
My brow furrows. “Because I care about her. I want her to be safe.”
She hums. “But why? Have you ever asked yourself that question?” I stare at her, not wanting to acknowledge her insinuation. With a chuckle, she stands and kisses my cheek. “Don’t think too hard, honey. Save it for your studies. We’ll see you next Saturday.”
As my mother gathers her briefcase and quietly leaves, I sink onto the couch. I stare at the research I’ve done for my side project and my thesis spread across the coffee table. There are notes in the margins... similarities I’ve made between Penny’s situation and some of the girls I’ve interviewed.
Why do I feel so overprotective of her? I was never like that with Christy, not that I needed to be. She has the sting of a wasp and the lash of a pit viper. She doesn’t deserve a hero.
Penny does.
I rake a hand across the back of my neck. Honestly, I can’t get her out of my mind. The day of her accident, I saw her. I’ve felt and dreamed things about her that confuse the hell out of me. And last summer at the country club? Something happened that day. A seismic shift. The chemistry between us wasn’t our usual oil and water. It was mutual attraction. I might be a dumbass when it comes to some things, but I know desire when I feel it.
And more than anything, I want it again. With her.
But first, I have to find out what happened to her. And the assholes that made her suffer need to pay.
Heading back to my laptop, I send a text to Marks.
Golden Boy—You ready for Stage Two? I want to finish this.
Marky Marks—Yo, anytime, bro. Just get me the files. I’m the masta!
Typing in my password, I stick the thumb drive with the incriminating pictures and video into the USB slot and smile. Brandon Ellis is about to get a dose of his own medicine.
*****
This is the private journal of Penny Elaine Ramsay. Do not read!
AUGUST 2012
I’m sitting in my dorm room at Northern Michigan University looking out at the quad, proud as hell. After years of hard work and determination, I made it. I finished my associates in a year and a half with honors and transferred to a four-year university. I’m just two years away from getting my bachelor’s degree in psychology.
And the timing is perfect. Colt was accepted at Quantico and started his intensive, six-month training course in June. His lease in Ann Arbor runs until September, so I was able to stay until my dorms opened.
It was bittersweet. Colt couldn’t see me off, and I don’t have anyone else I consider family. But I’m proud just the same.
I haven’t spoken to my mother in two years. Colt sees her once in a while but only on his terms. I’m not ready to forgive and forget. Not that she’s pining over our lost relationship. Miranda Ramsay isn’t a sentimental woman.
Colt still talks to Donovan. As far as I know, the asshole hasn’t found me. Colt has kept his word and refuses to tell Luke where I am, even though he’s asked numerous times. It’ll be easier to hide now. At least Colt doesn’t have to lie to him anymore.
I’m more than grateful that my brother helped me get through one of the hardest times of my life. But I’m one hundred percent on my own now. I made it.
I can do this. I don’t need anyone.