Page 12 of Desolation

He pulls on my arm, forcing me to face him. “What the hell is going on?”

I struggle to breathe as tears form in my eyes. I need to tell him the truth but the truth is hard for even me to believe.

“Did Michael hit you? Is that why you are really here?”

My eyes close tightly of their own accord as tears stream down my face. My breathing gets even more difficult and I start to shake. Strong arms wrap around me, lifting me up, and carrying me to a couch. Dax settles me against him as his fingers brush hair from my face.

“Mari.”

I shudder as I try to find my voice. “I—it’s—I—”

“Shh. Breathe, Mar Bar. You need to breathe. Deep breaths.”

I shake as I try to take deep breaths but eventually my breathing evens out. I don’t know what to tell Dax or where to start. I don’t even know if I want to drag him into whatever the hell it is Michael is involved in. But after months of trying to figure it out on my own and coming up empty-handed, months of trying to prove my innocence in something I have no idea about, I’m beyond drained.

“It wasn’t Michael.”

“Then who the hell hit you?”

I sigh as I force myself to speak. “I did it to keep my identity hidden.”

He pulls on a lock of my hair. “Is that why you went blond?”

I nod. “It will all make more sense when you see the files. I promise.”

“Let’s go to my office then,” he says as he stands, pulling me up with him.

I follow him into his office and hand him over the file. “I didn’t figure much out.”

His brow scrunches as he looks at me. “Really? You really think someone at your company would be covering up financial reports with complicated coding.”

I shrug. So maybe I didn’t tell him the whole truth when I talked to him on the phone. Or much of anything. I know he would never turn on me, never go to Michael with what I found. But I want to keep him safe from whatever mess I got myself into. “Beats me.”

I watch as he skims through a few pages of the papers that came from Michael’s office, sitting in a file with my foundation's name on it. I never would have thought much of it but six months ago my CFO told me about large deposits made into the charitable accounts. I disregarded it. We get donations often but when I looked into the donations and saw the number of zeros in the deposits I got suspicious. I hired a private detective and he couldn’t find much except that they appeared to come from offshore accounts. I never meant to stumble upon this folder in Michael’s office. I went in there to look for some medical records for the girls. Then a month ago more deposits were made.

I sit across from Dax and watch him for twenty minutes.

He looks up at me. “You want something to drink?”

“I’m okay.”

He nods as he puts his head back into the files. “Do you know how your CFO found these?” he asks without looking up.

“Nope.”

“Huh,” he grunts before opening his laptop. “This might be awhile.”

“I’ve got time.”

He chews on a pen, an old habit he’s had ever since I’ve known him. “You still volunteer a lot?”

“Yes.” Unsure of why he’s changing the subject.

He shuts the laptop in front of him. “There’s a VA hospital around here. You can take the Jag and volunteer today. Give you something to do.”

I look at him quizzically. “Or I could stay here?”

“You could but you just came to me with some complicated coding. I’m not going to be fun to be around. You’re obviously not telling me something and you are visibly upset. Might make you feel normal.”

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