Page 44 of Secret Triplets for Christmas

"Since when do you work evenings?" Mira's voice startled me. I hesitated, caught between a lie and the truth.

Mira’s head cocked to the side, her eyes narrow and assessing. "Are you dating? And if so, why the secrecy?"

“The work was really about those texts and an update on Liam’s case.” That wasn’t a total lie. “I just didn’t want to worry Dad or you.” I looked away, hoping she would drop the subject.

“Now I am worried.”

“See? It’s fine, Mira.” I thought about telling her what Oliver had learned about Liam’s possibly working with the FBI, but that would only heighten her worry. “I’m heading to bed. There’s still a lot of cleaning to do at my house.”

“Be careful, Lindsay.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

As I lay in bed, my thoughts returned to the night's events. For a moment, it had felt like old times, talking to Oliver and remembering the good times in our past with Liam. I could feel the warmth and security growing inside me like it had five years ago when Oliver had become my confidant, my protector, the man I fell for. Perhaps that was why I gave in and had sex with him. It had been about needing to feel cared for, connected to another human being like I had with him years ago.

At the same time, I felt close to him. The possibility for us was gone, extinguished by the lies I held onto. When I made my choice five years ago, the decision felt right. But now, the lies were burning a hole in my gut. What sort of person kept a man from his children? His children from their father? Especially a father who was filled with love?

I fell asleep, my thoughts a whirlwind of regret and longing. What stood out was what a terrible person I was to keep Oliver from the only family he had left.

14

Oliver

The scent of Lindsay's perfume lingered in the air even though she’d left nearly an hour ago. When she left, I ordered dinner and tried to watch TV, but all I could think about was her. For a short time tonight, we were back to the way we were five years ago. Friends. Confidants. And for me, a man in love with his brother’s girlfriend.

Being inside her was a heaven I’d only felt once before, the last time I was with her. Five years ago, I had held her like I had tonight, but the weight of our actions had been so much heavier then. At least for me. Liam might have been dead, but in my mind, Liam’s claim on her heart made her off limits to me. But for her, it had been different. Yes, they’d broken up by the time I was with her, but I was certain she still loved him. She just couldn’t be with him when his life appeared to be careening out of control. But tonight, she said she didn’t love him anymore by then, although if she didn’t, why had she hooked up with him only weeks before?

If I’d known for sure that she wasn’t in love with Liam, could I have done something different to make her mine back then? Would she have accepted my love?

I shook my head. Even if she didn’t love him anymore, I knew Liam had loved her. He might have fucked up, but he cared for her, and even in his death, I couldn’t take that from him.

So even as I was seeped inside her body, her hot breath on my neck as her pussy pulsed around my dick and the urge to spill my deepest feelings for her sat on the tip of my tongue, I’d said nothing.

I rubbed my temples and considered a stiff drink. I was making myself crazy going over the situation again and again. It was time to let go of the past and focus on the task at hand—finding out what had really happened to my brother.

With a sigh, I clicked off the TV and went to the table where all my papers and notes about Liam's case were scattered. The chaos on the table mirrored my thoughts, but I was determined to make sense of it all. I scanned each document, looking for details that might help piece together the puzzle of my brother's life before his death.

Liam had always been a bit of an enigma, even to me, especially in his last months. In many ways, he’d been like Lindsay growing up, an open, carefree spirit despite the pain and chaos of his childhood. That had turned to recklessness in his teenage years, but I’d been able to steer him toward school while working my ass off to pay for the part of college his scholarship didn’t cover. Perhaps it was Lindsay’s wealth that had him focusing on money and power and looking for an easy way out through the Back Bay Crew. Not that I blamed her. Of course, I didn’t. But something changed in Liam, and I hadn’t been able to keep him focused. He graduated college, but he hadn’t found a real job, and nothing Lindsay or I said persuaded him to find one.

And now I had to reconcile my thinking he’d been lost with the notion that he’d tried to save himself, redeem himself by turning against the crew. It gutted me that I didn’t know, that I hadn’t been able to see that his distress near the end wasn’t that he was pissed at me but that he was in serious danger. He had to know it. The idea of his being afraid and still doing what needed to be done tormented me. Fuck! I owed it to him to find answers.

The information on the papers never changed, never revealed something that could help me. So I put them aside. It was time to dig deeper into the past.

I researched gangs and organized crime five years ago in Boston. I found articles detailing turf wars, drugs, and unsolved murders, but not identity theft. Had Liam reached out for help, and no one gave a fuck? After all, if Social Services or the government cared about foster kids, they’d do something to prevent theft of their social security numbers and the demolition of their credit. At the very least, they’d have a process for fixing it. Hell, resourceful, sophisticated people had a difficult time cleaning up their credit after identity theft. How was an eighteen-year-old kid aged out of foster care supposed to deal with it?

Knowing I needed to find out whether Liam had talked to the FBI, I researched the Boston FBI office. Initially, I tried to find out who would be the head of identity theft crimes that Liam might have talked to. Since specific agents weren't listed on their website, I made note to reach out to the special agent in charge tomorrow morning. I had to consider that I’d be given the brush off, but now I wasn’t some poor ex-foster kid making my way in the world. I had money, which meant I had influence, and I’d use it to call my congressman or senator if I needed someone to help encourage the FBI to help me.

I shook my head. “What the fuck did you get yourself into, Liam? And why didn’t you tell me?” Guilt gnawed at me. If I'd been more present, more attentive, maybe things would have turned out differently for Liam.

I was getting ready to call it a night when my phone buzzed. Glancing at the caller ID, I saw it was my tech guy, Buddy.

I hoped this wasn’t a serious business issue. I didn’t have the head space for work right now. “Hey, Buddy.”

“I hope it’s not too late, but I have some news about that hack attempt.”

“It’s never too late for that. What did you find?”

"I managed to trace the breach back to Boston."

---