Page 57 of The Inquirer

“I know.” She pressed the heel of her hand into her eye. “I looked into that too.”

I frowned. “The law firm that hired you is connected to the law firm my family uses?”

“Oh, it gets better than that.” Her voice had an edge to it. “Two of the sons at Check & Sons – Ambrose and Art – moved to Rochester and started A. Check & Associates.”

Art.

Art Check.

Her molesting asshole of a stepfather.

Motherfucker.

I couldn’t say anything for a full minute, but when I finally could speak, only three words came out.

“What. The. Fuck.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried.”

“That’s an understatement.” I shook my head.

“I’m going to look into whether or not there’s a conflict of interest,” she said stiffly. “If there is, I’ll advise my clients and the Huxleys to find a different lawyer.”

I reached over and took her hand, squeezing it until she looked at me. “This is about more than your clients, Nyx. Unless you think it’s a coincidence that a lawyer from Rochester found you in New York.”

“I don’t.” It was her turn to squeeze my hand. “Ambrose never hurt me, but I don’t understand why he sent Min to me.”

“Do you want to talk to him? Confront him?”

She thought for a few seconds, chewing her bottom lip before meeting my gaze again. “I don’t know yet.”

“Well, if you do, I’ll go with you.” I put my hand on her cheek. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

Twenty-Four

Nyx

I’d never expected to go back ‘home,’ but here I was at Rochester International, walking out of the terminal, my hand tightly held by the man at my side. When he’d told me he’d go with me to confront Ambrose, I’d appreciated the offer, but I hadn’t really expected him to do it.

The earliest flight we’d been able to get was for today – Tuesday – which made it even more surprising when Bradyn bought two tickets. He’d assured me that Shadae and Brew wouldn’t have a problem with him being gone a couple days, especially once they found out he was going somewhere with me, and he’d been right. We hadn’t told them about what he’d found since I wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle giving over information now that I knew Ambrose was the one behind hiring me.

Ambrose Check.

He was the reason my mom had met Art in the first place. I’d heard the story a dozen times. Art’s older brother, he’d been at Cornell when he’d met a Rochester native, and instead of going back to Savannah to join the family firm like his older brother Abraham had done, he’d decided to stay and open his own law practice. His parents hadn’t been happy about it, but he’d stuck with it. After Art graduated from Brown, Ambrose had convinced Art to move to Rochester too. That’s where Art and my mom met and where my nightmares had begun.

I’d told Bradyn all that on the flight, and even though he hadn’t asked, I’d known he’d had questions. I’d answered the main one, anyway. I had no idea if Ambrose had known what Art had been doing to me. He’d never said anything one way or the other.

Then I’d changed the conversation so Bradyn wouldn’t ask one of the other follow-up questions I was sure he’d already been thinking. I knew for certain that Ambrose hadn’t kept in touch with his brother because Art was dead. I didn’t want to talk about that, though. I had a shit-ton of baggage to deal with, and right now, I had to focus on the whole Ambrose-Min-Savannah mess. Things were so up in the air, we’d even left our return tickets open-ended so I’d have whatever time I needed.

“How’re you doin’?” Bradyn asked. The question sounded casual, but I knew why he was asking it, which was definitely not casual.

“Okay for now,” I answered honestly. “One of the reasons we’re staying where we’re staying is that it’s nowhere near the law firm or my old neighborhood.”

He didn’t ask if I wanted to see my old house. Whether that was because he already knew the answer or because he didn’t want to risk asking didn’t matter. I just appreciated him letting me take the lead with this.

Our appointment wasn’t until tomorrow morning so we had some time. I hadn’t been thrilled about the wait, but it was the best we could do. I’d been wracking my brains to figure out what we could do that wouldn’t freak me out or involve a sex marathon that would leave me sore tomorrow, and I’d finally come up with an idea that made me nervous but not panicking, and the nerves were at least a different type of anxiety.

“There are a couple places I’d like to show you, if you’re up for it,” I said as we made our way to the next taxi in line. “Places here that have good memories.”

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