Page 12 of Katie 3 (Desires #6)
Chapter eleven
Carter
D ad’s files are scattered around his office, the scent of sex still lingers, and a smile tugs on my lips. I needed them together, needed my dad to focus on her. He won’t share his plans, not after Brad shared the recording with him.
And I fear there’s no way out.
I get started by picking all the files from the ground and putting them on his desk.
Surveillance shots of Dan in a parking lot, timestamped and grainy, catch my eye, Dan’s face caught in a half-smirk as he accepts an envelope from some greasy college-age guy.
The file behind it is a transcript of a phone call, a PI’s notes in shorthand, then a printed-out copy with all the abbreviations replaced.
The words “controlled substance” and “possible intent” are circled in blue.
I mouth the words as I read: “If we get him on a drug charge, he loses his leverage. Drops the case. Maybe even flips.”
Henry always said I had his brain but not his appetite for blood. It’s a lie. The difference is that I don’t like to be caught. So the fact that Dad’s already two steps ahead of me on this is both annoying and comforting.
I keep flipping through photos, call logs, what has to be a truly depressing Facebook deep-dive, until I find a list of names and times.
All girls. Most I vaguely recognize as undergrad students.
A few are circled. Victims? Witnesses? Potential PR disasters?
The last name on the list is Katie, and next to it, Dad’s handwriting: “Off limits. Clean.”
I continue scanning, piecing together a timeline.
The PI has been talking to everyone who’s ever known or crossed Dan, going back to high school.
Some is the expected blackmail, old texts sent, weird online shit, the time he was suspended for “locker room activity,” but other pages are stranger, darker, written in my father’s tidy lawyer hand.
“He’s not trying to exonerate Brad,” I mutter, flipping through another sheet. “He’s going to force Dan to drop the charges, or at least put him on ice.”
A shadow falls over the desk and I look up.
Henry stands in the doorway, tailored and immaculate except for the way his shirt is untucked at the back, the belt loose at his waist. He’s holding a cup of coffee, the steam fading in the air.
He walks in with a careless confidence, but his eyes go right for the folders, then to me.
“You think I don’t know you’re rifling through my files?” he asks, voice almost kind.
I close the folder. “I’m just keeping up with your progress.”
He sits, swivels the chair to face the window as if I’m not there. “Brad can’t keep his dick in his pants, you can’t keep your nose out of my business. Do you see how we’re all related?”
I smirk, but it’s a weak one. “You’re not worried about Katie?”
His face shutters. “The less she knows, the better. It’s almost over. Just a little more pressure, a little more time.”
“Brad’s a time bomb,” I say. “That’s not changing.”
“I know,” Henry says, swirling the glass. “But the case is dead if Dan’s cred burns down. With the right push, this will all go away… again.”
“You’re not worried about the morality of it?”
He scoffs and takes a sip. “Don’t you think that ship sailed the first time Brad pulled a stunt like this?”
Like this? It’s not the same, but it still needed to be buried.
“You’re not wrong to worry about Katie, or the baby. But you have to understand, there are no clean wins here. Only survival.”
I pick up the folder, flipping through the printouts: screenshots, photos, a copy of Dan’s university discipline record. “So, when do you drop the hammer?”
“When I’m sure they’ll take the deal. No more surprise witnesses. No more leakages.” He takes a sip of his coffee, then looks at me with an odd, old sadness. “You want to know what I’m really thinking?”
I scoff. “That would be nice.”
“I don’t want you or Brad to lose her,” he says, voice so low I almost miss it. “I don’t want this family to be another piece of collateral damage.” He presses the bridge of his nose. “I want her to have a damn chance.”
I don’t say anything. I watch him, see the exhaustion in the way he folds his hands, the way his eyes linger on the door like he’s waiting for someone else to barge in and make the next move.
“She’s stronger than all of us,” I say.
He smiles. “She has to be since she survived all three of us, right?”
I don’t respond and circle back. “How much time do you need?” I ask as the envelop in my back pocket weighs down on me.
“Few more weeks,” he sighs. “I need everything I can get and then I need to move some money around."
“As an extra incentive,” I add.
He nods, his stare taking me in. “And what are you hiding?"
Now I smile and pull the envelop out of my back pocket. “It seems Dan has some friends. They are arresting Brad.”
His brows tighten together. “Already?” He takes the envelop from me.
“From what I’ve seen,” I say and glance at the papers. “We need more dirt on Dan and funds to bury all this, quick.”
My dad scans the letter, cursing under his breath. “How did he pull this off?” he asks without needing an answer.
“So what now?” I ask.
He takes one more look at the top of the letter. “This isn’t official?"
“No, got it from a friend.”
“They are getting ready to arrest him… take Katie and Brad to the lake house,” he says and finishes his coffee.
“They will try to turn her against him in court,” I say.
“They will, I’m sure of it. Go, Carter, hurry.”
I don’t argue. I just head for the stairs, muscles tight and senses prickling. There’s a plan, an unready plan, and we don’t have the time to finish it.
Brad’s door is shut, but I don’t bother knocking. He’s sprawled on his bed, phone in hand, eyes puffy and red rimmed. I glance at the clock: barely six a.m. He blinks at me, then sits up, jaw tight.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, already on edge.
“We’re leaving,” I say. “Pack a bag. At least three days’ worth.”
He looks at me, then past me, as if expecting Dad to appear and clarify. When no one comes, he nods. “Katie?”
I hold up a finger, then cross the hall. Katie’s asleep, lying on her stomach, her hair everywhere. I hate to wake her, but there’s no way around it.
She groans and burrows deeper into the pillow as I sit on the edge of the bed. “Hey. It’s time.”
She lifts her head, disoriented. “What time is it?”
“Time to go,” I say, rubbing her shoulder. “Dad’s orders.”
That makes her frown. “What is it? Did something happen?”
“It’s just… he says you should pack light and hurry.” I help her sit up. She’s still soft, slow, her limbs boneless from sleep and last night’s Henry-induced coma. She blinks at me, then nods.
“Okay,” she says. “Just… can you help?”
I end up packing all three bags—Katie’s, mine, and Brad’s—while Katie gets dressed and Brad showers so long I have to pound on the door. Brad emerges, bleary but wired, and snatches up his duffel. I hand Katie her backpack and lead them down to the garage.
No sign of Dad, but the kitchen light is on and there’s a mug of coffee steaming on the counter, untouched.
We don’t talk until we’re all in my car, engine running, waiting for the garage to open. Katie stares at her phone, thumb hovering, but she doesn’t message anyone. Brad jams his seatbelt, bouncing his knee like he’s waiting for a judge to call him forward in court.
As the garage door trundles up, I spot Dad waiting for us on the driveway.
“Isn’t he coming with us?” Katie asks and perks up in her seat.
I stay silent, drive out of the garage, and stop beside Dad. Katie lowers the window, a smile still tilted on her lips.
“Go on, have some fun at the lake, and I’ll see you in a few days.” Dad says it so easy that he almost misses the fall of Katie’s smile.
“A-aren’t you coming?” she asks, her voice breaking, mimicking her heart as she shakes her head.
“Not yet, but soon. Carter will keep you up to date,” he says with a quick glance in my direction.
“I want you to come,” Katie interjects, her voice stronger than before.
“I will, I promise, angel,” he responds, but I see the slight twitch in his lips, the hesitation, the bit of tension in his shoulders. He doesn’t want to lie to her, to disappoint her, but he has to be able to fix this mess Brad put us in.