Master Unchained (Stealth Guardians Book 2) (20 page)

She let out a bitter laugh, the wounds from the past opening again. She knew this would happen. It always did when a man saw her naked for the first time. She’d always evaded the question and made up a story, but she knew she couldn’t lie to Hamish. She didn’t want to. He’d been honest with her. Now he deserved the same honesty.

“I was perfect once. I was the perfect little girl. And my father loved me.” She inhaled to take a pause. “He loved me too much.”

She felt Hamish stiffen. “Did he—”

Immediately she shook her head, realizing he’d misinterpreted her words. “My father would never hurt me. I was his little angel. And I loved him. But my mother, she couldn’t stand the fact that he was lavishing attention on me. She was jealous. So jealous.”

“You were a child!” Hamish rasped.

“I was competition for her husband’s love. She didn’t understand that his love for me was different than his love for her. That both could co-exist. I don’t think she’ll ever understand that. So she punished me.”

She suddenly felt Hamish’s hand caressing her stomach with a tenderness she hadn’t thought him capable of.

“By hurting you?”

Tessa nodded and closed her eyes. “Whenever she drank and was in one of her moods, she was cruel to me. Though she was smart, too. She always made sure my dad wasn’t home when she hurt me.”

“Oh God.”

“She was a smoker back then. I can still remember what it felt like when her cigarette touched my skin. To this day the scent of burning hair and skin brings back those memories.” Tears rose into her eyes. “She always warned me that if my father found out he wouldn’t love me anymore. I wouldn’t be his perfect little girl anymore. So I made sure he never saw the scars.” A tear ran down her cheek. “I was a child. I didn’t know. I believed her. Until I could take it no longer. Until it got so bad that I didn’t care anymore if I lost his love.” A sob tore from her chest. “I showed him what she’d done to me. And I waited for him to push me away.” She met Hamish’s eyes and saw rage reflected back at her. “But he took me into his arms and told me he’d make sure she would never touch me again.” She sniffled. “He kept his word.”

“And he stayed with her after all she did to you?” Hamish ground out. “He didn’t go to the police?”

“He loved her. Just like he loved me. He couldn’t choose. So he did the next best thing. He threatened her that if she ever hurt me again, he would divorce her in a heartbeat. After that, she stayed away from me. Never laid another finger on me.” She wiped her tears away. “She’s sick. Back then we just didn’t know.”

“I realized that something wasn’t right between you and her, I just never thought…” Hamish blinked. “I can’t even imagine…”

She touched his cheek and pulled him closer. She noticed the chords in his neck strain as he clenched his jaw. “I can live with those scars, because I know I’m safe now.”

“The scars,” he murmured and dropped his gaze to her stomach. Suddenly he reared up. “That’s it. That’s how we’re gonna prove that the woman in the picture can’t be you.”

Tessa sat up. “No! We can’t do that!”

“But it’ll exonerate you completely! It’ll save your campaign. All you need to do is get a few reputable journalists into a room and show them your scars. They’ll realize that whoever circulated that photo just pasted your face onto the body of somebody else.” Hamish’s voice got more heated with every second.

Tessa jumped up and walked to her closet, ripping it open. “I can’t do that to my father.”

She heard Hamish get out of the bed and approach her. “Your father?”

“As soon as people see my scars, they’ll realize that they’re old. They’ll know I was abused as a child.”

She took a T-shirt out of the closet when she felt Hamish’s hands on her shoulders. He turned her to him.

“Haven’t you sacrificed enough?” he said, his gaze penetrating.

“I promised him, Hamish. He kept up his side of the bargain; I have to keep my word. If it ever came to light what my mother did, my father would be implicated, too. Don’t you see that? Maybe the statute of limitations has run out, but that doesn’t matter, because people will still judge him, condemn him for what happened under his roof. I love my father. I’m not going to see him destroyed.”

She tried to turn back to the closet, but Hamish pulled her against his chest and stroked his hand over her hair. “Such devotion.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’m sorry I suggested it. We’ll just have to find another way.”

Surprised by his words, she smiled. “Thank you for understanding. It means so much to me.”

He winked at her. “How much?”

Her chin dropped. “You—”

But his laughter stopped her. His eyes twinkled with mischief. She slung her arms around him, thankful that he found humor even in the direst of situations, and kissed him. Then he moved his head back and took the T-shirt she was still holding in her hand and tossed it on a nearby chair.

“You won’t need that.” The heat in his eyes told her why. “Unless you want to dress up in something sexy and let me rip it off you—”

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted him. When she stepped out of his embrace, he stopped her.

“Let me check who it is, in case it’s a reporter.”

She watched him leave the bedroom, his toned butt muscles flexing with every step. Moments later she heard him speak into the intercom. “Yes?”

There was a crackling on the line, then, “It’s Poppy. Where’s Tessa? I need to speak to her.”

Tessa was already in the living room. Hamish looked over his shoulder.

“She’s been leaving messages,” Tessa said.

“It’s urgent! I need to see her,” Poppy repeated through the speaker.

Tessa sighed. “Fine. Let her in.”

By the time Poppy had reached the apartment door, both Tessa and Hamish were fully dressed again. Hamish opened the door for her and let her enter.

“Damn it, Tessa, why didn’t you call me back? I left several messages,” Poppy said, charging into the apartment without a greeting. “The press is going wild over this. We’ve gotta do something.”

“Are the reporters still camped out in front of the building?” Hamish asked.

Poppy nodded. “It’s a gauntlet out there.”

“They won’t leave me alone, will they?” Tessa asked.

Poppy put a hand on her forearm and squeezed it. “They want a statement. And we’re gonna give them a statement, okay? An apology. Other politicians do it all the time. We’ll say the photo was taken a few years ago when you had personal problems, and that you’re very sorry, but that you’ve overcome that dark period of your life, yada, yada, yada.”

“No!” Tessa interrupted. “I won’t do that! That’s not me in the photo! I’ve never done drugs, Poppy! Don’t you know me at all?”

Poppy hesitated. “Well, we need to say something! How are you gonna prove that woman in the photo isn’t you? Nobody will believe you.”

“It’s photoshopped! I know it’s been doctored. It has to be!” Tessa insisted, annoyed that Poppy had even for a moment thought her capable of this.

“Even if it is photoshopped, how will you prove it?” Poppy tossed a strand of her red hair behind her shoulder and sighed. “We need to draft a statement.”

“I have an idea,” Hamish suddenly interrupted.

Tessa spun her head to him, hope blossoming in her chest. “Yes?”

“If I can get my hands on the original photo I might be able to find out where it came from. And I can examine it and figure out if it’s been altered.”

“Yeah, but how would you know where the original is?” Poppy asked with a large dose of doubt in her voice.

Hamish walked around the coffee table, where the laptop was still sitting and woke up the screen. Tessa followed him and looked over his shoulder.

“Photo credit, here!” He pointed to the screen.

“Meredith Durant,” Tessa read. “I know her. She’s from the Daily Republic.” She turned to Poppy. “Did you see her downstairs with the other reporters?”

Poppy shook her head. “Nobody from her news outlet was there. Guess they figured they’d already gotten the scoop.”

“Then I’ll try her office,” Hamish said.

“It’s about fifteen minutes from here,” Tessa said.

“She won’t just hand you the original photo or disclose her source,” Poppy interjected.

“I have my methods.”

Tessa exchanged a look with Hamish. She knew what he was thinking. He would be using his cloaking skills to enter Meredith’s office and snoop around.

“Go!” Tessa encouraged him.

“I’ve gotta get Enya here first so she can protect you,” he protested.

“That’s not necessary, Hamish. I think whoever sent me those death threats has just changed their tactic and decided to destroy my political career instead.” For Poppy’s sake she didn’t say
demons
, though she knew it was them. “They’re not gonna make another attempt. They’ve already achieved their goal. If I can’t prove that it’s not me in the picture, I’m finished.”

She could see that Hamish was reluctant to leave.

“Please, Hamish. Besides, Poppy is here. And there are so many reporters downstairs. Nobody is going to be able to sneak past them and get in here.”

Hamish inhaled. “Fine. But you’re not leaving the apartment until I’m back. Do you hear me?”

She nodded. “Trust me, I have no intention of walking past those reporters and getting bombarded with questions.”

Hamish tossed a serious look at Poppy, who nodded.

“I’ll watch out for her,” Poppy said.

Finally, Hamish nodded. “I’ll be back within the hour, okay?”

Tessa smiled, when Hamish suddenly bent toward her and kissed her on the lips. Then he turned on his heel and left.

When the door shut behind him, Tessa sensed Poppy’s eyes on her. “What?”

“
Pretend
-boyfriend my ass! That didn’t look like pretend to me.” She sighed. “Some girls have all the luck!”

29

Finding Meredith Durant’s cubicle in the large, open-plan news office was no problem for Hamish, just as entering the building unseen and breezing past the security personnel had been child’s play. And he was in luck; Meredith wasn’t at her desk. Still invisible, Hamish went to work, leafing through the files on the desk. Meredith had made it easy for him. She was organized: each file was clearly labeled with subjects such as police brutality or names such as Yardley.

He picked up Yardley’s file, curious, and opened it. It contained a copy of the police report of the hit-and-run, as well as handwritten notes by Meredith. He was about to close the file, when he noticed a question scribbled on the last page.
Accident or deliberate?
Did Meredith suspect that Yardley’s death was murder? He raised an eyebrow. Or was this just another reporter fishing for a better, more sensational story?

He put the file back and went through the next few. There were several on the ongoing riots and demonstrations, then one on the mayor’s race. This had to be it. He opened the manila folder and perused the contents thoroughly. It consisted of poll sheets, campaign schedules (both Gunn’s and Tessa’s), and interview notes. He even noticed a note with his own name on it. Below it Meredith had written a few questions, such as whether they could expect some sort of fairytale wedding after the election.

Hamish shook his head. Reporters! They’d found out that Tessa had a boyfriend, and already they wanted to get the exclusive on the next
it
-couple, as if he were JFK and Tessa were Jackie. Anything for a good story; anything to sell papers or increase clicks.

What he didn’t find in the folder were photos, more specifically, the photo of Tessa that Meredith had published in today’s online edition. Where the fuck was it?

He leafed through the file again, this time examining every scrap of paper, when in between the poll sheets he found a list that didn’t belong there. It was a log. An email log, handwritten, with dates and the names of the senders, as well as the subjects. He ran his finger down the list until he saw it: an email from somebody named Zoel Monnadt—odd name—which Meredith had received late the previous night. The subject said photo. This had to be it.

He dropped the file back on the stack and turned to Meredith’s computer.

Shit! She’d locked her screen. He’d have to get Pearce to hack into her emails, which would take time. Hamish was about to charge out of the cubicle in frustration, when Meredith’s landline began to ring.

“That’s yours, Meredith!” a woman in the neighboring cubicle yelled in the other direction.

Hamish peered over the cubicle walls and suddenly saw Meredith hurrying toward her desk.

“Damn it!” she ground out. “The phone’s quiet all day, and then I leave my desk for two minutes, and it rings. How do these people time that?” She barreled into her cubicle and nearly fell over her own feet, reaching for the phone.

“Meredith Durant,” she answered breathlessly. A moment’s pause as she slunk into her chair. “Oh, thanks, yeah. I’m glad you caught me. Yeah, I’ve got it right here.” She placed her hands on the keyboard and unlocked the screen, then quickly navigated to a folder and pulled up a report. She scrolled through it. “I got it.” She tapped her finger on the screen. “The arresting officer’s name is Schultz.”

She listened to the caller, then nodded. “Yes, let’s do that. I can meet you there.” She was already rising from her chair. “In ten minutes? That’s barely enough time to—” A frustrated sigh. “Fine! I’ll be there.” She rushed out of the cubicle, snatching her handbag on the way out—and forgetting to lock her computer screen in her hurry.

Bingo!

The moment Meredith was gone, Hamish jumped into action. He navigated to Meredith’s email client and scrolled through the inbox. There: the email from Zoel Monnadt. It had an attachment. He clicked on it, and the monitor filled with the photo he’d seen online earlier. Meredith had cropped it, cutting off the lower part of Tessa’s thighs and legs, most likely to size the photo in accordance with her editor’s wishes. The photo properties told him that it hadn’t been taken with a regular camera, but with a cell phone. It was all he could tell at this point. At first sight it didn’t appear to have been altered, but perhaps Pearce would be able to find out more.