Page 13 of Deny Me
“It’s someone I know, yes.” If you could call it knowing. He’d lived and breathed for Charlotte when they’d been together. And now, because he had broken things off a decade ago, her family might refuse his help. But Dain and his team were the best, and Charlotte needed the best. Just the thought of not being here to protect her made his blood run cold.
“Things here are…complicated.” Putting it mildly. “But Dain—” This time there was no stopping the jab of his hand through his hair. “They need us, whether they know it or not.”
Dain stayed silent, stared hard, boring deep to take in all the things King couldn’t say. When he nodded, King felt the tension seizing his muscles finally relax.I’ve got your back,that nod said. Not that he’d expected anything less. His team always had his back.
Now they had to convince Charlotte they had hers.
“I expect a full debrief later,” Dain said. “For now”—he jerked his chin toward the interior of the house—“introduce me.”
He led Dain into the sitting room just as Kim Alexander entered at the opposite end with Becky. Fatigue shone from the girl’s eyes, but those same eyes lit up when they landed on Charlotte. With a muffled sob that hurt his heart, she hurried across the room to Charlotte’s open arms.
“I got help,” he heard Charlotte say, her words muffled by tears and Becky’s hair in her face. “I’m just sorry it took so long.”
Becky shook her head against Charlotte’s shoulder. King didn’t miss her wince of pain. “He hurt you,” Becky said. “It’s my fault.”
Charlotte drew back, taking Becky’s face gently in her hands. “None of this is your fault. None of it, do you hear me? Richard made his choices.” She stroked a thumb along the girl’s cheek. “You understand that, don’t you? It isn’t your fault, yours or the baby’s.”
As Becky curled up beside Charlotte on the couch, King moved farther into the room. Ben’s gaze fixed on him. He had to admit, he hadn’t expected the man to like him after the choices he’d made, choices that had hurt Ben’s daughter, but it wasn’t dislike he saw when he looked into Ben Alexander’s eyes. It was hatred.
King faced it head-on.
“Benjamin Alexander, this is my team lead, Dain Brannan.”
He watched as the two men shook hands, then introduced the rest of the room. When he got to the couch, he paused.
Charlotte extended her hand, the one wrapped in an ace bandage, leaving the other around Becky’s shoulders. “Forgive me for not standing, Mr. Brannan. Better to sit than fall down.” Her smile was strained. “I was in a car accident last night.”
“A car accident Richard Jones, Becky’s father, caused,” King explained. “We’ve contacted the local police with evidence found at the man’s home, but Jones is nowhere to be found right now.”
Dain grunted, accepting the information as his narrowed gaze took in the bruises along the side of Charlotte’s face, the deep purple slash across her collarbone where the seat belt had held her in place. King couldn’t look at the marks without his gut doing a slow, ominous churn.
“I’m sorry to hear about the accident, ma’am,” Dain said, turning his palm to allow Charlotte’s hand to rest atop his without pressure. “I wish we were meeting under different circumstances.”
“Thank you.” Charlotte pulled her arm from Becky’s shoulders to reach for the girl’s hand. “This is Becky Jones. She’s my client at the organization I run, Creating Families. And she’s my friend.”
Becky’s eyes glanced off Dain, and King couldn’t blame her. The towering, muscular guy sporting a Mohawk was intimidating on the best of days. Dain proved how astute he was when he moved to sit catty-corner to Becky, getting on her level. A smile completely transformed his chiseled face.
He nodded toward the swell of Becky’s stomach beneath the thin T-shirt she wore. “My wife is due in just a couple of months with our first. When are you due, Becky?”
The girl glanced at Charlotte, her hands coming up to caress where her baby lay. Charlotte gave her an encouraging smile.
“Three weeks, the doctor says.” She gestured toward Charlotte. “Creating Families is…” A vee creased the area between her brows. “They were helping me adopt her to a good family.”
“I’ll help you no matter what, Becky,” Charlotte assured her.
Dain leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on his knees. “May I ask what happened? Did you decide not to adopt? To keep your baby?”
A tear spilled down Becky’s cheek. King tensed, wishing he could get his hands on the girl’s bastard father and strangle him.
“No.” Becky swiped at her wet cheek. Her mouth twisted. “She needs a good home, away from him—my dad. But…a couple days ago he came home with a stack of money. Said I had to call Charlotte and tell her we weren’t going to give the baby up. I told him no.” Her hand came up to press against the bruise on her cheek. “He said I’d call or he’d make sure no one got my baby. Including me.” She met Dain’s eyes, her own spilling over. “Charlotte loves my baby; she loves me.”
As the tears started to flow harder, Dain reached carefully for Becky’s hand. She latched on tight, the contact seeming to steady her.
“Do you know where the money came from?” Dain asked.
Becky shook her head. “No. Just that there would be more when we gave them the baby.” Becky’s gaze latched on to Charlotte’s. “How could he sell my baby? He said it wasn’t any different from what we were doing, but it was. It was!”
As Charlotte cuddled the girl close, Dain’s gaze met King’s. They both knew what the money meant: black market baby selling. People like that had no conscience and zero hesitation about killing to get what they’d paid for.
