Page 23 of C is For Corruption (Horsemen #3)

Victoria

I must have read the email a dozen times, but I couldn’t stop myself as I sat with the laptop I’d borrowed from Craig on the Innocenti’s couch.

Victoria,

I appreciate your concern for the center, but given your current circumstances, it’s probably best that you don’t return in any capacity for the foreseeable future.

As you know, this place is meant to be a safe haven for South Sacona’s youth.

Unfortunately, your connection to us has caused trouble to boil over here.

I won’t go into details as I’ve handled it, but keeping your distance will help prevent more issues.

I am genuinely sorry to have to insist you stay away. You know that I’ve always adored and thought highly of you. You may not have been a kid from Southside, but you are still one of mine. Stay safe, child, and when this storm finally blows over, you give me a call.

With love,

Blithe McMillan

I couldn’t help but feel like the last good thing I had was just ripped from my hands in a single email. A feeling that only made me feel worse because I still had my men. I swatted at a tear that leaked over my lower eyelid just as Joey strolled into the room.

He looked exhausted. His hair was disheveled, and deep dark circles rimmed his eyes.

He was even sporting the start of a beard, leaving me wondering when he’d shaved last. I let my eyes drink him in, noting the thick file folder he was clinging to as if it held the answer to all his woes.

My fingers gripped the laptop screen as I fought the urge to go to him and try to erase the haunted look on his face.

I never knew which version of Joey I would get these days.

In rare instances, he was the man I’d fallen in love with.

In the others, he was spiteful and cruel.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice raw and scratchy.

“Hey,” my voice was barely above a whisper, afraid I’d startle him back into spewing venom.

Joey didn’t move, his gaze raking over me as he clutched the file tighter.

I cautiously closed the laptop, set it on the coffee table in front of me, and stood.

My eyes never left him, watching for any signs he was about to flee or turn hateful toward me.

As if reading my thoughts, the side of his mouth quirked up and he shrugged one shoulder slightly.

“I’m so sorry, Joey,” I said finally as I stood rooted in place, unsure where else to start. “I wish I could fix this. I wish I could bring him back.”

Something I couldn’t decipher flashed in his eyes, and he cocked his head to the side, studying me.

“You can’t fix this, Victoria.” The pain in his voice stole the breath from my lungs.

“I lost my brother, my family is cracking at the seams, and all I have left is a gaping fucking wound that can’t heal. ”

“Joey,” my lip trembled and tears pooled in my eyes. “I know… I feel it too.”

“No!” He shouted, causing me to flinch. “You’re not fucking getting it. I don’t feel anything except this gaping fucking hole where my brother is supposed to be. I’m drowning and all I want is to feel something, anything other than this.”

“I wish I knew how to help.”

“You want to help, Victoria? You want to make this better?” He snarled.

“Yes, whatever you need, Joey. I’m here.” I replied softly.

“Then make me feel something. Drop to your fucking knees and crawl to me and make me feel. ”

“I don’t think–”

“Don’t ask me what I need and then tell me I’m wrong.” Joey scoffed.

I raised my hands to placate him. “If this is what you need, I will do it for you, but I’m not sure this is the sort of thing you want to risk your parents walking in on.” I said.

“They’re not here. Neither are the guys, except Craig, who was passed out in his room last I checked.” Joey replied a challenge in his eyes.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” I asked, still unsure which version of the man I was dealing with stood before me.

“I’m sure,” He answered, his voice slipping into the same tone he’d used when he chased me through the woods. “Crawl to me.”

My body responded before my brain had a chance to catch up.

I stepped around the coffee table and dropped to my hands and knees, lifting my gaze to catch his.

Joey widened his stance, facing me fully, a satisfied smirk creeping across his face.

I crawled slowly toward him, giving him ample time to change his mind before I leaned back on my heels by his feet.

I reached for the button of his pants just as he reached down and grabbed my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

His smirk was gone, a sneer in its place as malice danced across his features.

“So fucking desperate for any scrap of attention.” his fingers dug painfully into my chin before he shoved me backward hard enough for me to topple over.

“Anything you think will keep you in our good graces so you can tear us apart from the inside.”

“Joey, I–” tears welled in my eyes and threatened to spill over as I sat on the ground trying to catch up with the mental whiplash he was causing me.

“ Joey, I.” He mocked. “I told you already, Victoria, I’m not falling for your bullshit anymore.

I’ve seen the fucking light, and I’m not addicted to your fucking poison anymore.

You. Are. Nothing.” He spat, squatting down to place the file he held in my lap before patting my cheek roughly. “You’re not even a fucking Bristol.”

He rose to his full height and strolled from the living room.

I sat there, dumbstruck, for several more minutes before I remembered he’d left the file in my lap.

I couldn’t make sense of his parting words, but I had a feeling the second I opened the manila folder, I would.

I just wasn’t so sure I should believe whatever I found.

I forced myself off the floor and stumbled to the couch, collapsing onto it as I clutched the folder.

My hands trembled as I situated it in my lap and flipped it open.

The first thing I saw was a report that looked like it was written on a typewriter and had been dated for just shy of three months after I was born. I read it and then reread it.

“No, no, no, no, no. This… this can’t be right.” I said before flipping through the remaining documents in the file.

There were three DNA tests, the final one dated around my fifth birthday, all stating that Hugo Bristol was not my father.

There were another two that stated the same for Uncle Theo.

And there were pictures… Pictures that showed my mother clearly involved in a romantic relationship with Theo.

The angles made it clear my father had his suspicions and hired a private investigator to follow my mother.

I couldn’t tell from them whether the photos were before or after I was born.

The fact that my father had Theo tested for my paternity led me to believe the affair must have started before I was conceived.

The longer I looked at everything, the more things made sense.

My father stopped acting like he gave a damn about me after my mom died.

I hadn’t seen him more than twice between her funeral and the Gala fire.

I’d told myself the reason Theo had fought to keep Az locked up for my attempted kidnapping was because my father was too injured to be in court, but that didn’t explain how he’d so easily placed me in their care after Az’s release.

I mentally started tallying the number of times I’d seen or heard from him since.

There was the one dinner at his house and a handful of voicemails after the manor was blown up, but there had been nothing since.

Panic coiled low in my belly, and my breathing grew erratic as pieces I’d ignored seemed to fall perfectly in place.

I shook my head hard, trying to dislodge them.

My father was a well respected prosecutor. He was the best in Sacona. And yet…

The sound of someone walking into the living room tore my attention away from the papers in my hand and lap.

Jerking my head up, I caught sight of Craig as he made his way into the room, clutching his bandaged abdomen with his face twisted in a pained grimace.

The moment he noticed me, worry flashed across his face.

“What’s wrong, Bunny?” He asked, making his way to my side at a pace that was clearly causing him more pain.

I held the papers up as if they were a smoking gun. “I think… I think my father is the one behind everything.”