Chapter two
Olivia
Fourteen Years Old
Istare out the window, watching as Donovan’s car circles around the driveway. I continue to watch until I can no longer see his taillights. After opening it, I close my eyes as the breeze blows the curtain. Glancing down at the desk in front of the window, I make sure there aren’t any papers that can be blown astray.
Dropping to my knees, I wiggle the loose floorboard next to my desk until it comes up. I grab the small tin box, walk to my bathroom, close and lock my door, then turn on the shower. Grabbing the bottle of rubbing alcohol from underneath the bathroom sink, I look back at the bathroom door. I’m not allowed to lock any doors, but he’s not here.
He won’t know. Will he? He said he was going to be gone for a few days. Will he, really? Or, is this some kind of test?
The pressure in my chest makes it feel like my heart is about to explode. I climb up onto the bathroom counter and open the lid to the tin box.
Grabbing the small blade, I hold it over the sink as I pour some of the rubbing alcohol over it. I set it on the washcloth and push my pajama shorts up. The steam from the shower is beginning to fill the bathroom, making fly away hairs stick to my neck. I grab a cotton ball out of the glass dish, hold it to the opening of the bottle and tip, making sure I wet it thoroughly.
I lay my outer thigh on the counter, exposing my inner thigh. Then I rub the cotton ball along my thigh, disinfecting it. I pick up the blade, press it against the spot on my thigh, and push until the pressure in my chest releases. I close my eyes and lay the side of my head against the mirror. The smell of blood fills my nose when I take a full breath.
I pull the blade away after a few more seconds. Moments like this, it’s the only time the heaviness in my chest loosens. I still don’t cry, though.
Chapter three
Victor
Six Years Later
Slamming the folder down on the desk, I steeple my hands and glare at the man across from me. “Explain.” My voice holds no room for argument. Dean swallows and glances toward the door. “You won’t get far.”
He leans back in his chair, sweat glistening on his skin. I stare and wait until the silence makes him uncomfortable enough to speak.
“I didn’t know, Mr. Valentine.” He glances down at the floor and shifts. I know he’s not telling me everything, so I continue to stare. He shifts in his chair again. “Alright, I had a suspicion, but I didn’t know the details,” he finally admits.
I study him.I’m going to fucking kill Donovan.The fear he has put in people in this town pisses me off. It pisses me off even more that I was blind to it. What else did I not see? He lives in Louisiana, almost two hours away. How the hell did he expand here and why? That’s why he and Olivia always came here for our monthly lunches. It was his way of expanding his territory.
I grit my teeth at the fact he had the nerve to usemyshipments to bring in drugs and unregistered guns into this city. Throughmyrestaurant. I’m already putting a plan together to check my other businesses, then find new employees if I find anything.
“If you had suspicions, why didn’t you come to me?” I ask.
Dean runs his hand through his hair, sighing. “People in the past who have voiced their suspicions go missing.”
I sit back in my chair, thinking back over the past six months. “It was Thomas, wasn’t it?”
Dean is silent, but after a few more moments, he finally nods. He shifts in his seat again, sucking in a breath. Thomas was the general manager, but Dean is the bartender and is always present for receiving shipments.
“I came in early for a shift about a month ago and he was receiving a shipment. I thought I had forgotten about it or something, but he said it was last minute to prepare for an event you were hosting. He worked late that night too, which wasn’t normal for him. I figured it was to prepare for the event.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. A month ago. That was the last time I had lunch with Donovan and Olivia. I take a calming breath, my insides boiling.That fucker.
“When you never asked me to help, I started wondering. Then, when Thomas stopped showing up to work when the new sheriff was announced, I figured he did something. I didn’t know what it was until today. I swear.” Dean exhales sharply, clearly frustrated with himself for not being honest with me.
Mulling over his words, I nod slowly. “I would have protected you if you had come to me. I have connections.” My connections aren’t like Donovan’s, but I can protect him. I have security and The Outsiders, my motorcycle club. I stand, walking over to the window that looks into the back parking lot. When Dean came to me after Thomas stopped showing up for work, I had it in my mind to fire him for not saying something sooner.
But now that I’m back to working again and I’m not so preoccupied, I see what Connor is doing. He’s hiring the people that Donovan would use. I’m assuming he’s doing it to keep them out of Donovan’s clutches. Donovan still doesn’t know I know about his illegal dealings or that I know he used my fucking restaurant and I’m going to keep it that way. The longer he thinks I trust him, the better. I wonder how the election of the new sheriff will affect Donovan and the pull he’s had in this town. I clench and unclench my fists a few times before turning my attention back to Dean.
“I want you to take Thomas’ place. You’ll be the new general manager.” Dean’s eyes widen in shock. He probably expected to get fired. “If I find out you are doing anything like what Thomas did, you will be fired and I will make sure no one in this town or this state will hire you. Understand?”
Dean stands, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Of course, Mr. Valentine. Absolutely.” I know Dean isn’t like Thomas. His work ethic alone stood out to me. I should have fired Thomas a long time ago, but life has been a big shit show lately. I mentally shake away those thoughts and take in his clothes.
“No more jeans. This is a nice restaurant. I didn’t mind you wearing jeans behind the bar, but from now on I expect you to dress the part. If you need me to purchase you some clothes, I will.”
“I have money,” Dean mumbles, but I arch an eyebrow at him.
