Page 133 of Reveal

“Only if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” James says.

“Okay, I’ll file to get an appearance before Judge Benedict as soon as possible. He’ll want to have the ladies appear in court—”

“That can’t happen. I don’t even know where they are.” James glares at me, and I love that he hates everything about this. Serves him right.

“Then—”

“I hear you want the state’s attorney appointment. I can make that happen if you get this taken care of for me.” Silence sits on the line for a bit. The prosecutor clears his throat. “Did I not make good on my promises before when this first happened?”

“Yes.” His voice is soft, cautious.

“Then why do you doubt me now?” James asks, and I hate knowing this asshole is so good at manipulating people.

“I’ll get the record set straight,” he finally agrees.

“Thanks. And I’ll start making those phone calls on your behalf.”

I hang up the phone and then shift my hip on the edge of the desk, a condescending smile on my lips. “That wasn’t too hard, now was it?”

“Fuck you.”

“Just a few more things and I’ll be out of your hair, and in turn you’ll stay out of jail.”

“What more do you want from me?” he asks, visibly tired.

“I don’t want you to ever search out Sam or Vaughn. If I so much as hear that you’re even asking about them, the contents of that locker are turned over to the authorities.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re blowing hot air now.”

My temper snaps. The temper I swore I’d keep in check is obliterated as my hands fit perfectly on either side of his neck and squeeze with enough pressure to put the fear of God into him. “At least I have a breath I can blow.”

“Fuck you,” he forces out with what little oxygen he has left.

“For a man as intelligent as you, your vocabulary is seriously limited. Now tell me the last thing I want to hear. Admit to me you did it. Admit you got your sick rocks off by molesting your niece.”

“No.”

I squeeze a little harder, his labored breathing becoming a wheeze. “No?”

His face starts to turn red, his fingers trying to claw my hands from his neck. My own conscience questions what I’m doing, but all I can think of is sweet Lucy without a mom. All I can hear is the hurt in Vaughn’s voice when she so much as mentions her childhood here in this mausoleum.

“Still a no?” I ask, worried he’s not going to care how far I take this high-stakes game of chicken.

“Yes. God. Fuck. Yes. I did it. I fucking did it. Are you happy?” Spittle flies off his lips and hits my cheek.

“Did what?” I demand.

“Had sex with Samantha.”

I release my hold on him and wipe the spittle off with the back of my hand. It takes all I have to look at him, my stomach churning, my heart hurting.

“You sick fucking bastard.” Fury riots through every single part of me as I look at the wasted man. “I would add that if you so much as go near another little girl, the same goes with the contents of this locker. I’ll turn everything over to the police.” I run my eyes up and down the sorry sight of him. “But I guess Samantha made sure that wouldn’t happen again with where she aimed, now didn’t she?”

He grits his teeth as my smile widens.

“If you ever come near me again . . . ,” he says, his face a mask of fury.