Page 7 of Hacker Salvation

Aaron turned down a long drive and clicked a button to open the large black iron gate. Neal and Aaron had surprised Daisy with a new house in Los Angeles a month ago. Her men had been worried Aaron’s house wasn’t safe enough after she had been kidnapped again a short few months ago. They’d had the house alarmed and cameras installed everywhere. Daisy told me they’d done the same thing in her home in Ft Lauderdale. The extra security seemed to make Daisy more relaxed. She also wore a diamond necklace that contained a tracker. She had asked for the tracker after her first kidnapping.

The SUV came to a stop in front of the modern, stylish mansion. I was used to seeing large houses and being around celebrities, but Daisy’s house put most of my other friends’ homes to shame. John held the door open for me to get out. I was still dressed in the blue scrubs from earlier. When I glanced at my hands, I could see specks of blood under my nails.

Next to the doorbell was a screen mounted to the house. At first glance, I didn’t think anything of it until Neal pressed his hand to a black screen and the door lock clicked open. John placed his hand on my lower back. His warm presence gave me a sense of security. When he moved away, I felt the loss.

Brock and Jessica were already at the house, and we all quickly settled into the living room. John poured me a drink to calm my nerves.

“What happened?” Brock asked. “We need to know so we can help you.”

I nodded as I sucked down the amber liquid that burned all the way down to my stomach. “We made plans earlier in the day for him to come home after work. We were going to finish the last couple of details on the wedding and then look at our 23andMe reports. He was excited when he called and said he couldn’t wait to show me mine. Nate wouldn’t tell me what it said—he wanted to show me.” I took a deep breath and held out my glass for more liquor. John’s pour was smaller the second time, probably so they could get the story from me before I was drunk. I took another sip, smaller this time, before continuing. “When he didn’t come home right away, I grabbed a glass of wine and finished the wedding details myself. When he did get home, I knew from the goofy look on his face and the smell of strange cologne on him that he’d been with his lover.”

Their brows rose.

“He’s gay,” I explained. “I agreed to be his wife because his family would cut him off and not let him practice in the law firm anymore if he lived as openly gay.”

“Why didn’t he just open his own law firm?” Neal asked. “Is his parents’ money that important?” He had been on his computer since we’d walked into the house. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, waiting for my answer.

I closed my eyes and remembered the first time Nate had come to my house with a broken arm and a black eye. “He tried to leave the family business multiple times. Each time was followed by me taking him to the hospital with a broken bone. One night after I came home from filming, I found Nate curled up on my couch. He was minutes away from dying. Someone had dropped him off at my house and deleted the footage as they left. Nate wouldn’t tell me who it was or what was going on. He just needed a wife.”

Nate and I hadn’t talked often about what had happened. He would clam up and tell me not to worry about it.

“I’ve never had much luck in the dating realm, and we always joked that if we weren’t married by the time we hit our thirties, we would marry each other. We talked about all the wedding plans together. We shared everything going on in our lives. He was one of my best friends… I meanis.That’s why getting married wasn’t such a stretch.” I shrugged. “Only Nate had grown more secretive in recent days. I chalked it up to nerves over getting married. I knew that deciding to go through with it and asking me to be his fake fiancé had created a lot of stress and strife for both of us.”

I took another sip. “I know he was seeing someone on the side, and I was willing to break the marriage off. But if he felt it was imperative for him to live life under the guise of being straight and keeping his boyfriend a secret, then who was I to argue? Not only did he agree to give me a very generous allowance for marrying him, but he also promised me the option to have lovers on the side, as long as I kept it quiet like he did. This all seemed more than fair. And because I love planning a party more than almost anything, I was happy to follow through with my part of the bargain.”

“She does throw amazing parties,” Daisy agreed.

I continued to tell the story of how I’d ended up in jail. The night before, instead of Nate indulging my whims and helping me select hors d’oeuvres and wine pairings, he had broken down and cried. The very last thing I needed was to feel like the bad guy, as if the wedding were my idea and I was the one ruining his life. That was when I’d snapped. I accused him of being ungrateful. I reminded him of everything I was giving up to help him. And I suggested that the very least he could do was to show a little gratitude and not try to make the entire experience miserable. Then I stormed off because if I’d learned anything in dealing with men, it was that having a mini-meltdown went a long way toward ensuring I would get what I wanted.

When I came home the next day from work, Nate was nowhere to be seen. He hadn’t called, which was unusual for him and only served to make me feel worse about the situation. We were off to a lousy start. If I wanted to be miserable while I was married, then I could marry a straight guy. At least then I wouldn’t have to go looking for sex since I would have someone who was there, ready, and on demand.

I went on to tell everyone about how I’d searched the house to find Nate. He didn’t come out when I called. He didn’t peek out when I slammed the door. It was highly unusual for him not to respond. I went out to the pool, which was one of his favorite spots for thinking and moping, but he wasn’t there. So I headed upstairs, and that was when I spotted blood outside his bedroom. When I went in, I found blood everywhere in the bathroom. He was extremely picky, so I’d started to clean up the mess.

“That’s when I picked up the knife to take it downstairs and start cleaning up the mess. But when I turned, I found a deputy in the doorway.”

“Wait,” Brock demanded. “How did the deputy find his way into your house?”

I took the last sip of the amber liquor, and the burn felt good down my throat. “That was my question to him, but he didn’t like the knife in my hand. When I stepped forward, he pulled his gun. I fell and that’s how I ended up covered in blood. When we finally made it downstairs is when I got my answer. Our cleaning lady called the cops because she saw blood and me walking around it.”

“What is her name?” Neal asked, not looking up from his laptop.

“It’s Ms. Orchard. What’s even stranger is she was in our house the night before and recorded my fight with Nate. We have strict contracts with the help. No videoing in our house. She turned over the video to the police. It shows me yelling at Nate, throwing my wine on him, and storming out of the room.”

John poured a little more amber liquor into my cup.

Brock clicked his phone on. “Do you have a lawyer? You shouldn’t have talked to the cops without one.”

I was angry, distraught, outraged, and anxious. I hadn’t called my lawyer. “I didn’t think I needed one. Then suddenly, they were taking me to the station to collect evidence.”

John stood and started to pace back and forth in front of the tall white fireplace. “This doesn’t make sense. You had a fight, and someone happened to be in your house to videotape it. Then the police show up right when you’re walking around the crime scene. If they just wanted your evidence, they could’ve collected it there.”

“They needed an official statement.”

He stopped pacing and focused his gray eyes on me, causing my heart rate to increase. I didn’t know why, all of a sudden, I was melting into a puddle when some man looked at me. I’d given up on finding a man that made my heart beat faster, my palms sweat, and images of dirty things pop into my mind.

“But you said they took you down to the station,” he said. “You could’ve gone the next day to give your statement. This all sounds fucked up.”

I had no clue what happened when someone went missing. “The sheriff said Nate’s dad is a friend of the family and called him when Nate didn’t show up to work. What I don’t understand is why he thought that was such a big deal. Nate sometimes just doesn’t show up for a few days.”

---