Page 13 of Redemption

Chapter 11

There werebenefits to being good with computers. Although I was no longer in contact with my family, that didn’t mean I hadn’t kept tabs on them. It gave me a sick sense of satisfaction knowing that I was spying on my father and he had no idea. After my father kicked me out of the house, I’d hacked into his security system and was able to see first-hand how my sister lived.

Even at the age of twenty-three, she’d never left my parent’s house, although that was something I was working on. She’d become a complete shut-in. Her agoraphobia was crippling. I’d learned afterward the day I’d come across what was happening was not the first time either. She had been given as a “gift” to my father’s business associate on more than that occasion. It was my father’s way of showing his appreciation for investments in his corruption. I threw up when I’d read the note on the counter next to the wine bottle that long ago day. It killed me that I hadn’t realized what was happening sooner.

There was another benefit of being a computer hacker… I had a record of my father’s illegal business dealings. He was into drugs, money laundering, even guns. He had no idea the evidence I had been gathering over the last seven years. He still was arrogant enough to believe that because he’d made the body and murder weapon disappear, I was indebted to him. That I somehow “owed” him.

Time was quickly ticking by as to when he was going to cash in the “favor”. To be honest, I was surprised it hadn’t happened yet. Which was why I was doing everything I could to make sure that Casey stayed safe until I could proceed with my plan. Now, I had leverage. One of these days I was going to figure out a way to make him pay for what he’d done without revealing my own sins. I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen, but I kept my eyes peeled for an opening. I’d been carefully planning vengeance for Casey for years. No one knew, not even Connor. He’d worry I was taking too many risks. For Casey, though, the risks were worth it.

Once a week I logged into my computer and checked up on dear old dad. The first thing I did was check the security feed on the cameras to make sure I was still online. I would go back through the recorded video and make sure that Casey was as well as could be. During the first six months of me monitoring the house, I cried until my tears ran dry seeing her trudge through the house like a zombie.

She never changed out of her pajamas. Her hair lay listless on her head, its shine long gone. In fact, from all appearances, she never even combed her hair. She wore no makeup. The light had all but left her eyes. Not once in all these years had I seen her smile. If my heart hadn’t broken the day I found her, it would have broken every time I sat and watched her. Like a voyeur. Now, it was a muted ache.

Today was no different than any other day for the last seven years. Everything checked out on that end. I tapped a few keys and located my hidden folders. Once they popped up, I clicked on an icon. My eyes scanned the screen and stopped. No fucking way. I ran an encryption code and waited. I hoped my eyes were deceiving me. Because if what I’d just read was true, I was going to puke. A few keystrokes later had bile rising to my throat.

Encrypted emails had been exchanged between my father and someone with the code name Korol', which translated to “King” from Russian. Talk about a self-inflated ego for god’s sake. In the emails they talk of an exchange involving pricey merchandise. The amount of money discussed blew my mind. There was also talk of an auction. As I continued reading various correspondences, I realized the “merchandise” in question was women. More like girls, really. Sweet mother of God. What had my father done? Rage clouded my vision at the thought of what was happening to those girls. Bile churned in my stomach. Those poor girls. They were all Casey’s age. And they were being sold off like cattle. So far, there weren’t any dates of this auction, but based on the exchanges, it would be happening soon. I had to stop it.

I was so livid that I didn’t even think of the consequences of my actions as I picked up my phone. I dialed a number by rote.

“Charles Santiago.”

Automatically, my mind traveled back to happier times at the sound of my father’s voice. I hadn’t heard his voice since I was twenty. It was surreal to hear it and still recognize it. Even after all this time. But then, I remembered exactly why I was calling, and I couldn’t help this disdain that colored my voice.

“Hello, Dad.” The word came out on a sneer.

“Josephine, I thought I gave you explicit instructions never to call again. You are no longer a member of this family.”

“What kind of monster are you? How did I never see it all those years?”

My father yawned on the other end of the line, unconcerned with my questions.

“You’re boring me Josephine. You have thirty more seconds. I suggest you take advantage of my generosity.”

“Your generosity?” I sputtered in disbelief at his words. “Does your generosity now consist of selling women into sexual slavery?”

Silence greeted my pronouncement. A kernel of satisfaction stirred inside that I had struck my father dumb.

“Explain yourself.”

A bark of laughter escaped, the noise almost maniacal. “All these years you’ve had no idea that I’ve been watching you, have you? Of course not. No one would dare spy on the great and powerful Charles Santiago. No one, but me. Never would I be indebted to you. I would rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he snapped.

“Are you threatening me?”

“No threats. Just fact. Don’t think you can toy with me. You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Josephine.”

“I know exactly who I’m dealing with. Drug dealer, extortionist, gun smuggler, and now sex trafficker. I promise you’re not going to get away with this. This was the final straw, Dad. I refuse to sit by and let other women, girls, be hurt like you allowed Casey to be hurt. I’ll find some way to stop you. I promise.”

Before he could reply, I disconnected the call. My vision clouded with anger. I let out a pained whoosh of breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding when I unclenched my fist. Crescent marks dotted my palm where my nails had dug in. White skin pinkened as blood flow began again. Emotions churned inside me. Rage, pain, hopelessness, and fear all fought for control like a maelstrom. The line in the sand had just been drawn. After this revelation, I needed to figure out how to be the first one to cross it.

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