The Lost Tycoon (8 page)

“Can you tell us a little about your childhood? The jury needs to understand you, understand why he was able to bully you.” There was no judgment in Camden’s voice.

“I was an orphan. My mother dropped me off at a fire station when I was a baby. The only things that were with me was a dirty old T-shirt and a note that said to contact my brother, Damien, when I got old enough. I don’t know how that note stayed with me through the years, but somehow it did. Not that I was able to ever contact him. I wouldn’t know where to start, even if the person ever really existed. No last name, you know. I was bounced around a lot, and life wasn’t easy, but that’s not an excuse…”

Misty didn’t see the way both Camden and Bryson tensed at her words. This wasn’t something Camden had asked earlier. This wasn’t something she told people often. For one thing, she didn’t think the brother really existed. For another, whom would she tell? She had no ties to anyone.

“You have a brother?” Bryson asked, interrupting the deposition and getting a stern look from Charlotte Adams.

“I don’t know. That’s just what the note said,” she answered, looking at him with wide eyes, wondering what she’d said that suddenly had both men so uneasy.

Bryson was glued to his seat as he began putting puzzle pieces together. He’d loved her eyes, the beautiful green color, the shape, everything about them, but something about them had bugged him from the beginning, almost as if he’d seen them before.

Now, he knew. He knew a Damien. It couldn’t be possible, of course, that this was the same man she was speaking of. The world didn’t rotate that way, didn’t connect like that, did it?

“Not now, Bryson,” Camden warned him. “Let’s continue, Misty. Tell me what happened next.”

Misty spoke for a while longer, telling about her time with Jesse. Her eyes filled with tears a few times, but she kept her emotions in check and spoke almost like a robot.

“…and then I couldn’t take anymore. I went to the police and filed a report after he punched me so hard that one side of my face swelled. It nearly left me blind in one eye. I tried to leave him,” she choked out.

“Did the police help you?” Camden asked.

Misty laughed, a chilling sound that dropped the temperature in the room by at least several degrees. “Jesse found me at the hospital. He took me away from there, his eyes colder than I’d ever seen before. No one tried to stop him. He told me he was going to show me exactly what happened to women who betrayed him.” Her voice was frightened, as if she were reliving that horrific moment in her life.

“He handcuffed me and forced me into the back of his car, then drove home to the apartment and marched me up the stairs. My head still hurt from the last beating he’d given me. People watched him take me in. No one said a word to stop him. I was so frightened, I didn’t even try to resist — I knew it would only make it worse. As soon as we were inside the apartment, he forced me to my knees, my hands still handcuffed behind my back. I had to perform…I…he…thrust himself into my mouth, pushing so hard I threw up a little, and somehow my lip was cut and throbbing. I begged him to stop when I could speak… I couldn’t even breathe… But he just laughed. I could see how much he was enjoying it. When I thought it was all over, he pulled me to my feet and took me to the bedroom… He undid the cuffs long enough to remove my clothes, then he cuffed me to the bed. The torment lasted for two days. He took turns raping and beating me.” Misty’s voice came out in a monotone as she forced herself to withdraw, to think of that time as a movie, not her own life. If she pretended she was speaking of some other person, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“This needs to stop,” Bryson demanded, his eyes glittering with rage.

“I know it’s difficult, Bryson, but if you can’t handle it, you have to leave the room. We need to do this.” Camden shot Bryson a dark look.

Bryson looked as if he was going to come out of his chair and throttle his friend. The two had a stare-down and Bryson wasn’t backing off.

“I’m fine, Bryson. I promise,” Misty said. The last thing she wanted was to see a fistfight start.

He didn’t look pleased, but he sat still, arms crossed, as he waited for her to continue.

“I didn’t really know how much time had passed. I went in and out of consciousness. It wasn’t till it was over that I realized it had been two days. He never let me up from the bed. I was lying in my own…urine…”

The shame was there for them to see, making it even harder for Bryson to listen to her talk of such humiliation. He wanted to kill Jesse with his bare hands for doing this to her.

“He broke three ribs, fractured my jaw, and I had an infection in my wrists. When I did finally get to the hospital, I lied, said I was kidnapped, but got away. He told me that if I gave any other story, the next time I wouldn’t be alive to tell another soul.”

“Were you in fear for your life?” Camden asked.

“Definitely. He told me of his last girlfriend. He told me she would never be found. He said there were several ‘bitches’ who would never be found, because they’d been stupid enough to betray him. He said the only reason I was still alive was because he hadn’t finished with me yet.” A shudder passed through her. “He won’t rest until I’m dead,” she added, the words sounding so strange coming from her flat, almost expressionless voice.

“He won’t ever get the chance,” Bryson vowed.

She looked over at him again, seeing his bunched muscles, the harsh expression on his face, the quiet fury, and she was grateful. It was somehow calming for her, as if he were taking the emotions from her onto himself. It gave her the energy to go on, to keep telling her story.

“When I healed, I began planning my escape. I knew I had to sneak out; I knew I had to disappear. No one would help me. So I saved as much money as I could. It wasn’t easy since he took all my paychecks and monitored everything I did. It took a long time, about nine months of waitressing, saving part of my tips, not all, or he would have known, but eventually I had enough and I bought a cheap car. I was ready to go, just a couple of days from escaping. That’s when everything went horribly wrong. That’s when I accidentally found a bunch of large bags of cocaine. He was furious with me. I don’t know how I managed to get away, but I did. I escaped and was in hiding until Bryson found me.”

Camden asked more questions, and she answered each and every one, and then it was over. Misty was done — emotionally and physically drained. She didn’t know how she would manage to get up in front of a jury and say all of this again. It was one thing to speak in front of four people, but an entire courtroom? What if the cross-examination made her look like she was the bad person? She had stayed with the man, after all. Wouldn’t they spin that into her being a willing participant in his depraved games?

“We’re all finished, Misty. You’ve done very well.” Camden moved his chair to sit in front of her while the court recorder packed up. “I know this wasn’t easy, and I appreciate your strength in giving your testimony, but we can breathe a little easier now and try to put it all out of our minds. Easier said than done, I know, but how about we go get something to eat, maybe a stiff drink, and try to relax? You don’t have to think about it anymore for now.”

“I’m not hungry,” she said, the thought of food making her stomach want to heave.

“You will be after about three or four straight shots,” he told her with a smile.

“Would you like to come, Charlotte?” he asked, turning to the other woman, who they all seemed to have forgotten was even in the room.

“No. I appreciate your testimony, Ms. Elton. It will be valuable to the case. I’ll contact Camden if I have follow-up questions,” she said, and then was the first one out the door.

“She’s scary. I’m glad you’re the attorney helping me,” Misty said as she looked at the open door.

“Ah, she’s a sweetheart, but this case has everyone acting unusual. There’s just too much that can go wrong,” Camden said. “Now, let your attorney buy you a meal.”

“I guess…”

“Good. Let’s get out of this room,” Bryson said. He almost shoved Camden aside, then leaned down and pulled Misty gently from her chair. “You are braver than I could have ever imagined. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

It didn’t take much for Misty to fall against his chest and accept the comfort he was offering.

“I was a fool, but I didn’t know how to get away,” she said, ashamed of herself for once again leaning on a man — even if this man seemed to be one of the good guys. She’d made that mistake before, but maybe, just maybe…

“Look, you were a victim and Jesse abused his power as a cop, abused it, and you, horrifically,” Bryson countered.

“I just want to forget about it,” she said.

“Then let’s go.”

Bryson wrapped his arm around her shoulder and led her outside, with Camden following quietly. Misty looked up to the clear night sky and let the stars calm her. She was safe now. Though she was closer to where Jesse lived than she’d been in over a year, she felt safe. He couldn’t get her.

Or at least she felt like he couldn’t. Not with Bryson there next to her.

Misty sat in the backseat of the SUV and listened to Bryson and Camden shoot the breeze as they drove from Camden’s offices to a small country bar and grill. She was glad they weren’t expecting her to talk, because she didn’t think she’d be capable of it right then.

The experience had drained her. It was so much harder than she’d imagined to lay this story out on the table again. She’d learned Jesse’s character only too well while living with him, but after talking about it, voicing what he’d done to her, how many times he’d violated her, and in how many ways, she had no idea how she’d survived as long as she had.

No matter how despicable the person, Misty never delighted in the end of anyone’s life, or even by the idea of it, but she had to admit that if Jesse were to die, she’d sleep a lot better at night. Sure, she felt guilty, but she wouldn’t take the thought back. She considered him the incarnation of evil, and, yeah, she wished him dead.

She felt raw and exposed as she huddled against the leather seat during the ride down the dark road. The two men had chosen a restaurant outside town; was it so she could have time to collect herself? She doubted it would come to them as a big surprise if she had a complete breakdown.

But Misty was stronger than they gave her credit for. No, they hadn’t put her down or made her feel like a weak woman, but she knew her eyes were hollow, knew her body was shaky, knew the signs of a meltdown were all there. But Jesse hadn’t broken her down back then, and he certainly wasn’t going to do it now. She’d had a will to survive. Somehow. And she still did. More now than ever before.

Would Bryson think differently of her now? Of course, that was almost a stupid question, because she really had no clue what he’d thought of her before she’d told her ugly tale. She knew she was developing feelings for him, but wasn’t it more of a white-knight complex? He was there to save her, a quintessential damsel in distress, from the evil dragon. When this was over, one way or another, she was sure these strange feelings would go away — this need for him to be nearby would evaporate.

If Misty had felt nothing for Bryson — no attraction, no thoughts, no…lust — then she could have dealt with the situation far more easily. And anyway, because she was so torn up, so ragged, so raw, could she trust her feelings at all? Maybe she was attracted to him because that was easier to handle than thinking about her ex and the horrendous things he’d done to her.

Maybe she was projecting her emotions. And getting them all muddled up.

What would it be like to be in a relationship with a man like Bryson? Did he just seem like a white knight now, but when he got close to a woman, did he turn into a monster? How did two people find each other and live happily together? She knew those existed — they had to, or why would babies still be born? Why would anyone marry? There had to be happy endings out there. Maybe she just wasn’t one of the lucky ones.

She hadn’t even been given a family, the one thing she wanted more than anything else. No. Instead, she got to walk this world alone. That had to be why she was having fantasies about a life with Bryson. He was the first man ever to be kind to her. Still, it was his job; it wasn’t about her at all.

Bryson had it all already. A family. Friends he loved and respected. For all she knew, he could have someone special in his life now. Maybe the way their eyes connected was just a part of his job. It made more sense than that he might actually be attracted to her. Because, having it all, Bryson certainly didn’t need her.

Their lives were just so different. If he disappeared tomorrow, there would be a manhunt for him. He would be missed by his family, by his friends, by the ones he protected. That was something that would never happen with her. She had disappeared for an entire year, and Bryson had come looking for her only because he needed her to testify. If she hadn’t been mixed up with Jesse, she could have walked off into the night without a single soul the wiser. A single soul who gave a damn.

Of course, if she hadn’t known Jesse, she wouldn’t have needed to disappear. But then again, where had her life been going? Nowhere. She was working a dead-end job, living in a ghastly apartment, and she had no friends, no purpose.

How long until she just naturally faded away on her own? Anger filled her as these thoughts flitted through her mind. Okay, so she’d been abandoned as a baby, but that didn’t make her worthless. Everybody deserved a chance to shine. Perhaps she just hadn’t found her moment yet.

“Are you doing all right back there?” Bryson asked.

She blinked, and it took a moment to realize he was speaking to her. Her emotions were already whirling, and the gentle tone of his voice, the concern in his shadowed eyes as he looked back at her, made it even worse. She’d given her deposition. Why did he even care how she was feeling? It made no sense.

Just as the attraction she felt toward him made no sense.

When she finally spoke — “I’m fine” — her voice came out scratchy, raw, exposed, just like her, as she struggled to subdue the violent tears threatening to erupt.

He twisted around in his seat, then reached back and carefully laid his hand on her knee, squeezing gently. “We’re almost there. I should have sat in the back with you.”

“No. I promise, I’m all right.” She wanted him to stop before she gave in and let out the full explosion brewing inside her.

His eyes told her he didn’t believe her, but at least he released her knee and turned forward again. She slumped against the backseat and closed her eyes as she took in several deep, cleansing breaths.

If she wasn’t careful, she’d think she was falling in love with this stranger. Logically, she knew it couldn’t be real. She didn’t know him, and he certainly didn’t know her, or know anything about her beyond what she’d said today. And that wasn’t pretty.

She tried to be smart, tried to explain to herself what she was feeling, but it was beyond her. All she could wonder was this: what was she doing even thinking that another man was attractive, especially after reliving her past with Jesse? Surely most women would never contemplate entering another relationship after the trauma she’d been through. But most women weren’t as lonely as she’d been most of her life.

And most guys didn’t show as much compassion as Bryson had shown toward her. It was all for the testimony, she forced herself to remember — or was it? Sometimes it seemed like more. It seemed as if he actually cared. But that was foolish, wasn’t it?

The SUV stopped, and Misty quickly tucked away her thoughts, telling herself that everything was fine, that this had been a hard day. Now they were going to enjoy a friendly meal, and then she’d go to her room and sleep.

The next day, they’d head back home, and that was the last she’d see of Bryson until the trial. There was no way she was going to analyze how much that thought bothered her.

If she never saw Bryson again, she would never experience his lips against hers. She despised herself for it, but it seemed almost the only thing on her mind of late. When she recalled how his eyes had blazed in anger over what Jesse had done to her, she found herself wanting to wrap her arms around Bryson, wanting to thank him, wanting to feel his kiss. She knew it wasn’t about his touch — just the idea of a man’s touch terrified her — but it was about a connection, about actually feeling something other than fear when in the presence of a man. And Bryson inspired no fear, except maybe of her bizarre feelings for him.

Her door opened and there he was standing in front of her, looking so incredibly handsome. “Madam,” he said with a flourish, and after a moment, she smiled shyly, his over-the-top goofy grin driving away the dark thoughts she’d been having.

She was stunned into silence by his sudden flirtatiousness. Her eyes surveyed the scene, noting that Camden was leaning against the car, not saying a word. Wasn’t Bryson’s behavior a little unprofessional? Her emotions were so raw, she didn’t know what to do, so she sat there dumbfounded.

When the silence dragged on, his teasing expression vanished; he held out a hand and said in a more even tone. “Please, may I escort you to dinner?”

“Thank you,” she murmured, taking his hand and stepping down from the SUV.

Just his touch sent fire zinging through her veins. She was out of control right now, and she didn’t know how to rein herself back in. Her only salvation was that he couldn’t hear her thoughts, didn’t know what was going on in her head, or realize that her heart was pounding as he gripped her hand.

Misty knew she should tug her fingers away, but they felt so warm and secure tucked against Bryson’s that she couldn’t.

She was in deeper trouble than she’d realized. She wasn’t just falling for this guy; she was falling hard. When she finally hit the ground, she’d be lucky not to shatter into a million pieces.

They walked through the front doors, and Misty was immediately charmed. Though the building hadn’t looked large from the outside, it was surprisingly roomy once they stepped through the doors, and it sported log furniture and red-and-white checked tablecloths. Various rodeo pictures hung on the wall, along with several signed photographs from country music stars. A band was setting up on the stage.

“A lot of musicians come through here,” Camden said. “Some of them well-known. It’s a local secret.”

“How can you keep it a secret if it’s someone famous?”

“Because the people of the town treat the bands like neighbors instead of celebrities, and they get to play a gig at a place like one they may have started at. We get a treat of great music, and they get to be regular guys and gals for the day. They never say when they’re coming, and our people never leak it out once they’re here.”

“That’s pretty neat. I’d never have thought this the type of place to attract a big musician. I mean, it’s nice, of course.” She didn’t want to put his choice of bar down. “It’s just kind of small and out of the way.”

“That’s what makes it so great,” Bryson jumped in. He’d been coming to the place for years.

“Hi, Camden,” said a woman as she approached. “You picked a great night to come in.”

“Hey, Alyssa. Can we get my favorite table tonight?”

“Of course you can. If someone was there, I’d just make them move.” She threw him a flirtatious smile, then turned toward Bryson and Misty. “It’s been a while, Bryson,” she said, stepping right up and throwing her arms around him.

“Sorry about that, Alyssa,” he told her, genuine affection shining in his eyes.

“Well, just don’t let it happen again. You go and get all busy with the FBI and forget all about us in the backwoods.”

“If I recall correctly, Alyssa, you had a hankering for the big-city life, doing cover shoots all over the world,” he countered.

“Yeah, yeah, that went real well.”

“You did great. I found that cover from your fitness magazine, and no one has ever done that rag such justice.”

“It was short-lived, but I sure grew up.” Something had obviously happened to hurt her during that time.

“Some people never get to live — just remember that,” Camden said, his words hitting Misty like a loaded shotgun. “But we’re being rude. This is a friend.” He paused, making sure to get her name right. “Magnolia.”

Misty was taken aback when Alyssa gave her a hug. “Any friend of the boys is a friend of mine,” the woman said with a genuine smile.

“It’s great to meet you,” Misty replied, her throat suddenly tight. How would it feel to make friends so easily, to have a real friend to share with? She feared she’d never know.

“We need to quit standing in the doorway gabbing,” Alyssa said, and she led the way to a nice corner table in the back of the room.

Misty noticed only about six other people in the place.

“The special is Doc’s meat loaf and loaded mashed potatoes with a heaping side of grilled asparagus,” Alyssa said as she started to write on her pad. After the men ordered, she looked at Misty and waited.

“Um, that sounds good.” There was no way Misty could eat that much food, but the guys had automatically chosen the special, and her leftovers would be good the next day, and possibly the day after that.

“Do you like your drinks virgin or with a bite?” Alyssa asked Misty.

“Um…with a bite,” she said hesitantly, expecting to get a list of choices.

“I’ll bring out your salads and drinks,” Alyssa said instead, and then left.

“We didn’t order drinks,” Misty said to the guys.

“Sorry, darling,” Bryson said. “We’re both so used to coming here. Alyssa knows our drinks. Plus, first-timers always get a free special drink. You’ll love it.”

Misty shrugged, though the use of an endearment dropping so easily from his tongue made her tingle a bit. “When in Rome…”

Alyssa brought out the drinks and the boys were right — hers was exceptional. It had a tangy, zestful flavor, and before she knew it, the first one was gone and another one was in its place. Within half an hour, her worries were pushed back to the farthest reaches of her mind, and she was laughing softly as Camden and Bryson told old “war stories” about the bar.

“Did you grow up here, too, Bryson?” she asked, her eyes slightly droopy, but her body relaxed. She munched happily on her dinner salad.

“Yes. Born and raised.” He tipped an imaginary cowboy hat.

“Is your family here?”