Page 26 of The Sound of Secrets

“Then you should act like the adult.” Winnie crossed her arms over her chest and glared at me. “Adults don’t run from their problems the way you do. They don’t play with other people’s feelings the way you do. They don’t leave when other people need them. And they don’t pretend like bad things never happen because it’s easierthan fixing whatever went wrong. That’s thetruth,Aunt Channing.”

“Winnie!” I snapped her name as the sting of her words buzzed across my skin. I’d had enough attacks from loved ones for the day. “That’s enough.”

She shook her head and reached for her discarded backpack on the floor. “I’m sorry you were hurt in the past. No one should have to face what you did. Life has really been unfair toward you and my mom. But that doesn’t meaneveryoneis going to treat you so poorly. You don’t trust me. And you don’t trust Uncle Win.” She clasped her cell phone in her hand and made a call. I heard Rocco’s voice over the speaker. Winnie told him she wanted to go back to the brownstone, and he readily agreed to take her. When he asked if I was coming as well, Winnie told him ‘no’, not giving me a choice to ride with her or not.

Honestly, I needed the time alone in the silent, empty apartment.

My mind was reeling.

Dealing with other’s responses to the injustices I’d learned to bury was exhausting. Win’s sympathy and fury on my behalf was a lot. Winnie’s anger felt like even more. And her accusations about my faith in her and Win were more overwhelming than my mother’s imagined hatred. I never considered that holding onto my secrets from others was distrustful, so maybe Winnie was right. I didn’t have unwavering faith in the people I was closest to. The only reason Salome and Roan knew what happened to me when I was young was because they lived through the nightmare alongside me. The experiencebrought us closer together and created bonds that would never be broken.

I lost track of time trying to sift through all the difficulties of the day. My reverie wasn’t broken until I got a call from Salome. Before I could get out a raspy ‘hello’, she informed me she was on her way to the apartment with wine and cake.

Win had called her and asked her to ride to the rescue. So she dropped everything and rushed over.

That man really knew what I needed in a crisis.

My trust seemed like it was the least I could give him in return.

Win

I’d never been inside a prison before.

The overwhelming sense of oppression and hopelessness was an unfamiliar experience. I didn’t look or carry myself much different from the high-dollar litigators coming in and out of the visitation rooms. No one paid attention to me, but several pairs of leery eyes watched every move Rocco made. My head of security was every bit as intimidating as the armed guards patrolling the area.

“You’re really gonna pay for this guy’s lawyer?” Rocco kept a sharp eye on everyone milling about. He looked ready to jump into action any second, even without the firearm he typically carried. He started coming to work with a weapon after my former assistant put a bullet in him and left him to bleed out while my family home burned to the ground. I wasn’t the only one dealing with lingering trust issues from that awful night.

I looked at my watch and tried to keep my natural impatience at bay. My minutes were valued by millions, and I wasn’t used to being kept waiting.

“It’s the only way he agreed to speak to me. He asked for an appeals attorney. The best money can buy. I don’t think any level of representation will do him any favors. He’s a repeat offender.” I tapped my fingers against my thigh and stared at the bars surrounding the space where we were told to wait. “If he doesn’t tell me the truth, we’re out of here.”

Rocco grunted. “How are you planning to tell if what he says is the truth? You’re not a human lie detector. And your judgment in relation to Channing is…” He paused when I gave him a hard look. “Questionable. You’re blind about her in a way you aren’t with anything else.”

“You’re supposed to find me someone from that night who can corroborate whatever he tells us. And Jordan Kent.” I gave my head of security a pointed look.

Rocco swore under his breath and rubbed a hand over his bald head. One of the attorneys waiting for his client shifted uncomfortably. I saw the guy clock my designer suit and criminally expensive watch as soon as I sat down. No doubt he was trying to figure out what firm I worked for.

“I’ve reached out to every resource I’ve built over the years. I’ve got as many feelers as possible spread out as far as they can go. Your mom wasn’t playing around when she covered up her wrongdoing, and any personal records she might’ve kept were lost when the manor was destroyed. When she shut down the clinic where she kept Archie, and when she vaporized the restaurant that nearly poisoned Alistair, she left zero breadcrumbs. This deal with the missing baby is the same. The trail is ice cold. It’s been so long, and the people who were involvedhave had a lifetime to vanish. As for Kent, he fled the country. He didn’t simply walk out on his wife and kid. He went on the run without giving a reason and disappeared. That screams legal trouble, or worrying about something scarier than the law. I know he’s in a non-extradition country, but not the exact one. I should have a location by the end of the week.”

I rose to my feet as one of the uniformed guards indicated it was our turn to speak with a prisoner. “I pay you a fortune to make miracles happen.”

Rocco scoffed as he held my arm and prevented me from being the first person in the room for the visitation. The prison guard watched as the bald man went over every inch of the glorified cell before finally allowing me to enter. As I stepped past him, he muttered under his breath, “You pay me a fortune to keep you alive. Which I’ve done, despite you making my job twice as fucking hard as it used to be.”

Rocco took up position behind me, near the armed guard. I took a seat at the metal table. I stared at the man on the other side, my cheek twitching as I laid eyes on the man who hurt Channing and got away with it.

He was handcuffed to a bar on the table. The beige jumpsuit with his prisoner number hung on his thin frame. The man was sickly thin and haggard. Years of drug abuse were evident by his sallow skin and vacant eyes. I could tell he’d been handsome at one point in his life, but now he was a sad imitation of a man. However, there was no way to miss that he looked exactly like an older, harder version of Kyser Kent, minus the snowy white hair. This was the kid’s dad, which inched the dialcloser to Channing being his mother. I hated how that knowledge made me feel.

I ground my teeth together as we stared at each other, neither wanting to speak first. I couldn’t believe a convict wanted to play power games with me.

I pointedly looked at my watch and leaned back in the horrifically uncomfortable chair. We were only allotted a certain amount of time. If this asshole wanted to waste it and risk the singular opportunity he’d been given to exploit me, so be it.

I lifted an eyebrow and asked, “You want my help, don’t you?”

The man named Parker smirked, and the chains around his wrists rattled when he locked his fingers together. “And you want mine. I have to say I’m surprised a man like you would marry a woman like Channing. She’s been around the block a time or two. She doesn’t have anything to bring to the table. I had her in her prime. What’s left is useless.”

I froze. It took all of my self-control and years of not giving an inch when dealing with competitors and clients to keep my cool and show no reaction.

“You think you understand what kind of man I am?” Parker shrugged at the question. I chuckled lightly. “You want your appeal to go smoothly and have a shot at freedom. You know I have the resources to make that happen. However, I’m more inclined to make sure you never see the light of day again. I’m happy to toss you in a hole somewhere until your existence is nothing more than a faded memory.”

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