Page 13

13

EVIE

I sit in the passenger seat of Jasper’s car with my thoughts still tangled from yesterday. Lochlan insisted on driving me home last night, and this morning, he insisted that I shouldn’t drive myself to work. I can’t help but feel like his moodiness is getting heavier, though he keeps saying he's trying to protect me. He hasn’t come right out and said it, but I know the strikes are behind it—the constant tension, the threat of violence hanging over us. If he only knew what I'm dealing with.

Jasper talks my ear off as we drive, oblivious to the knot twisting in my chest. He’s excited, all smiles as he talks about the factory negotiations. “Evie, can you believe they're finally ready to talk? The workers have been waiting for this.”

I nod, trying to keep the smile in place, though my thoughts keep drifting. "Yeah, that’s great," I say, but my voice is a little too quiet. I can barely focus on his words, not with everything else clouding my mind.

I think back to the call from Darren, the threats, the blackmail. His words still echo in my mind. “ Your father’s reputation is on the line. Do as I say, or I’ll make sure everyone knows the truth .”

I don't want to know what my father might be hiding, but now it’s all I can think about. What if my father really is involved in something illegal? What if I’ve been blind to it all these years? I need to know the truth. Darren's video of that parliament member incriminating my father could be a fake, but something tells me it's real and I've been too naive to see it. He does have Lochlan O'Rourke working for him.

"You okay?" he asks, and I could ask the same to him. His eye is still swollen and purple. Must've really hurt when he got hit.

"Just grumpy that I can't drive myself." I cross my arms over my chest and stare out the window, sulking.

"You know Da and Loch just want you safe, Evie. Those protest attacks weren't a joke." He points at his own eye as he turns into the parking lot at work. "Da just wants to make sure you're protected in case the bastards come here."

The confession about Darren Connelly is on the tip of my tongue ready to come out, but if I tell Jasper, he will tell Da. I'll end up locked in my apartment and it will keep me from snooping in the work files. I have to know. I can't just sit back and pretend I didn’t see that video.

"Just walk me to my desk, Mr. Bodyguard," I say, and he chuckles as if it's a joke. I guess I need to practice my sarcasm.

The office is teeming with excitement over the potential contract talks. Da is here, flitting around legal, talking to the internal team and union reps. Jasper walks me up to the second floor to my desk where he parks me without a babysitter. I don't know where Lochlan is right now, but I'm glad the office up here is mostly empty, especially when I get a text on the burner phone in my desk. I'm not even sure why I still have it, other than it is a link to something I fear is true. Maybe it's morbid curiosity that Darren Connelly knows more about my father than I do. Things I want to find out.

I pull the phone out and read the message, another threatening quip about my da going to prison if I don't do what he says. Then another comes in, demanding shipping schedules and member information. It's a total breach of privacy to give out our members' private information, but I'm not sure I have a choice.

Jasper walks back in, and I tuck the phone into my desk drawer, silencing it first so he doesn’t see me with it. If I want this to go away, I have to play along, but I also want some answers. Maybe Connelly will cough up more details about the things he thinks my father does. If not, maybe I won't play his game anymore.

My hands tremble as I pull up the requested files. There isn't any easy way to transfer them considering I have men watching my every move now. If I print anything, I have to walk across the room to the printer, and Jasper will watch me. Or God forbid, he will pick the papers up and bring them to me then question what I'm doing with the information.

So instead, I slide a thumb drive out of my desk drawer, the kind our marketing team uses to transfer large files to the print shop downtown for our regular mailers and newsletters. There's always one lying around and I happen to have a few in my drawer.

When Jasper slips away to the coffee pot in the corner of the room, I push it into my computer and quickly transfer the files, then eject it and slide it into my pocket. I'm determined to get to the bottom of things.

Connelly wants more than just information about the union—that much is clear. I just can’t tell what he wants. He's starting small, making sure I'm giving him legitimate files, but he's working up to something more. If I can find out what Da might be guilty of and what Connelly thinks he wants, maybe I can offer some sort of compromise.

The phone in Da's office rings and Jasper perks up, looking over his shoulder. "Loch isn’t here?" he asks, and I shrug.

"I've not seen him," I reply, and I suck in a breath. When he goes in there, I have to make my move. I'll text Darren and tell him where to meet me, and I'll slip out when no one is watching. It might be my only chance to get this man off my back and find out what I need to know at the same time.

Jasper huffs and scowls, then stands and walks into Da's office, and I snatch the burner phone from my drawer and my spare set of car keys, darting out the door and into the elevator before Jasper can see where I've gone.

I slip out of the building, keeping my head low and my heart pounding in my chest. The elevator ride feels like a lifetime. I check over my shoulder once more before stepping out into the parking lot, keeping my pace steady but quick, and heading straight for my car, sending Darren a text that I'm going to meet him at a bake shop on the corner of Main and Montgomery.

Once I’m in, I start the engine and drive. My mind races with what I’m about to do. This feels like one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done, but I’m too deep to back out now. The burner phone buzzes in my pocket, and I don’t have to look to know it’s Darren. My fingers tremble as I pull the phone out and read the message.

Here now… I’m waiting .

I type a quick reply, telling him I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. My foot presses harder on the gas pedal, and the car zooms through a red light. I can’t keep pretending like everything’s okay when I’m sinking deeper into this mess with every step.

When I pull up to the location I told him to meet me, I see his car parked by the curb. I park next to it, my hands still shaking as I grab my keys and the burner phone, sliding it back into my pocket with the thumb drive. I take a deep breath and swallow the anxiety before stepping out of the car and walking toward him.

Darren’s leaning against his car, his arms crossed, watching me approach. As soon as he sees me, his lips curl into a smile that feels all wrong. The expensive suit makes him seem professional, but he's a sleazeball.

“About time,” he says, opening the passenger door. “Get in. We’ve got things to discuss.”

I hesitate for a moment, my heart hammering in my chest. There’s no turning back now. I get in without a word, and the door clicks shut behind me. The car smells like leather and a faint trace of cologne that makes my stomach churn. I don’t speak at first, just sit there, trying to steady my breathing.

Darren slides in the opposite side and seems larger than he was. His presence fills the entire car. "Where are the files?" he says, his voice cold, clipped.

I glance over at him as the pit of my stomach roils. “What exactly are you going to do with them?” My voice is shaky but louder than I expect.

He laughs a sound that makes my skin crawl. “What I do with them is none of your concern anymore, sweetheart. What matters is you keep your end of the deal." He glances over at me briefly, then sighs and holds out his hand. “The files for your father’s future."

I shiver and the words slice through me like a cold wind. “I won’t keep doing this. I won’t keep helping you hurt my family.”

Darren smirks a dark, mocking expression. “You think you have a choice? You don’t. You’ll do what I ask, or your precious father ends up in prison."

His words sting, making my throat tighten with anger. I want to scream at him, tell him I’m done, but I feel small, powerless in the seat next to him. “I want it all. I want the proof of what you have on my dad, and I want it gone. Destroyed.”

Darren laughs again, louder this time, cruel. “You must think I'm stupid. That’s not how this works, sweetheart.”

My hands ball into fists in my lap, and my pulse races. “I’m not doing this anymore,” I whisper, but even to my ears, it sounds weak. I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out the drive and place it on his open palm. I'm not the prowling vixen Lochlan thinks I am. I'm weak, and I’m helpless, and I'm a fool for thinking I can control anything.

Darren doesn’t say anything. He just watches me, his expression hardening as I leave his car. My body feels heavy, and my head spins as I walk back to my car. I don’t want to go back to work. I can’t handle being there, pretending like everything’s okay.

I get in my car and start the engine, driving home instead of back to the office. I don’t want anyone to know where I’ve been. I don’t want to tell anyone the truth, not when it feels like I’m unraveling. And the nausea churning my stomach only gets worse as I realize what I've done. I handed over that information without a protest and I didn’t even get what I wanted.

When I get home, Mum is there, sitting on the couch, looking up as I walk in. “Evie,” she says, her voice soft, full of concern. “You look pale. Are you feeling okay?”

I try to smile, but it feels strained. “I’m fine, Mum. Just tired. I think I’m getting sick or something.”

She stands up and walks over to me, placing a hand on my forehead. “You don’t feel warm. Are you sure you’re alright?”

I nod, my throat tight. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Just need to rest.”

She gives me a look that says she’s not convinced, but she doesn’t press. Instead, she wraps me in a hug, and for a moment, I let myself lean into her. It’s the only comfort I have left, even if it’s not enough to keep the fear from creeping into my mind.

Mom pulls back slightly, looking at me with that familiar, concerned expression. "You know, Evie, Elvin Murphy is a good man. Maybe if you didn’t have to work so hard, life wouldn’t feel so stressful. You could let him take care of you. You don’t have to do all this on your own. When you get married, you'll see."

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks, and her expectation presses down on me. I know she means well, but it’s the last thing I want to hear right now. I’m drowning in my own thoughts, my own fears, and I don’t want to talk about marriage to a man I don't love. She's right. He'd take care of me so I don't have to work, but I want to work. I like my job. She doesn't understand.

"Not today, Mom," I say, my voice strained. "Please. I just need some space."

She sighs, clearly disappointed, but nods before walking away. The door closes softly behind her, leaving me in the silence of my thoughts. I sink onto the couch and put the pillow over my face. I can't keep doing this.