Page 87 of Exit Strategy

“You were Kurt’s second-in-command, and how this level of abuse went on inside New Eden, and no one was the wiser to it,” he said.

* * *

The living roomof the house was enormous, and the full-length windows faced the bay. Their property must run right up to the edge of the water, and that would mean a pier and a boat. There was no way they had a house this big and no boat.

The brunette woman had supervised me taking a shower, using the restroom properly, and then dressing in men’s clothing. This wasn’t new. I was more familiar with button-up shirts and denim than anything feminine. The fact that she had that massive revolver on her, that was disconcerting.

Being clean, I felt better.

I know I smelled better, thank fuck for that.

“So, Kurt said that the house in Hollywood had multiple layers of security, including cameras that had onsite storage and were backed up to the New Eden main facility,” the Englishman said. I nodded, this wasn’t a breach of any of my NDAs, yet.

“There is ample evidence to demonstrate that Arik Rex routinely abused his wife, physically. We have X-rays, and MRIs that show a history of broken bones and multiple concussions. How did you not know about this?” he asked, his voice calm and even.

“Calanthe is a very slight woman, and she is both easily harmed and accident prone,” I said. That was what we were told.

“Callie is a slight woman, but that doesn’t mean she has the skeleton of an eighty-year-old woman, or a medical history that looks like a professional boxer,” he said.

“I’ve heard this propaganda before,” I said. “It’s the same story – New Eden has made some people mad, and the two go-to items for smearing an organization are sexual abuse and exploiting children. Neither go on at New Eden. Keep your lies and propaganda to yourself. I don’t know who you are, and I want to talk to Kurt, and to know Calanthe is okay.”

“It’s not propaganda,” the Englishman said.

“I don’t care what anecdotes you have, and anything you can print or show me is going to be something anyone with a computer and a decent hand at Photoshop could make. Fuck you. You could use deep fake AI to make a video of whatever you wanted, so I don’t care about your bullshit evidence.”

“Let me go get Kurt,” he said, the sighed and stood up.

Slight limp.

That was the weak point when the time came.

“Obe?” It was Kurt.

“What the fuck, man,” I almost snarled.

“There’s a lot to explain,” he said, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “But there are things you have to know—”

I interrupted him. Hearing his voice, seeing him looking clean and healthy, fire boiled inside me. We both hit the wall, and there was a crunch of drywall caving in. Everything came up at once, and I turned and slung him onto the tasteful coffee table. There were cracking noises, and part of the table gave way.

The air went out of Kurt in a gust, and I saw his face turn red.

Those were broken ribs.

Fire lanced through my back and there was the familiar crackle of a taser. The brunette was there, jabbing the device into my side.

Far from the first time I had taken a taser.

I knocked the thing from her hand and sent her tumbling over the sofa. There were shouts, and I paused long enough to kick the taser away before grabbing Kurt up off the table.

“You son of a bitch, do you know what you’ve cost me?” I shouted at him.

“Put him down,” the sociopath said. He was unarmed, but the look on his face was murder. He helped the brunette back to her feet and gave her a handkerchief to wipe the blood from her face.

“Maddy, wait,” Kurt rasped. “Please.”

I didn’t listen, I couldn’t listen.

I refused.

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