The Secret Sister M. DeLuca (read 50 shades of grey .txt) 📖

trying to catch her eye but she transferred her attention to the paper clip magnet. “I’ll get right to it, Linda. You need to get the cops onto Earl Rafferty.”

Her eyes snapped open in surprise. Dreams of golden beaches shattered for the moment. She exhaled deeply. “Anna, I told you it’s in your best interest to stay away from those downtown places. They’re bad karma for you.”

I placed both hands on her desk and leaned forward. “I don’t want to ruin your holiday, Linda, but I’m done playing games here. And by the way, I’m recording this entire exchange.”

She leaned against the back of her chair squinting at me. Her face flushed with scarlet streaks. “What exactly do you want?”

“Yesterday I dragged one of my students from a stag party. She’s underage – barely sixteen years old – but she was drunk, high, almost naked and in the process of being assaulted by men old enough to be her grandfather. She also has Earl Rafferty’s name tattooed in bold script across her back.” I sat back and took a deep breath. “And your esteemed colleague Peter Karrass and a number of other so-called respectable members of our community were willing spectators to the entire proceedings.”

I could almost hear Linda’s heart thumping. I’d presented her with something way too big for her to handle, but I wanted her to suffer. To worry about me every time she lifted a frozen margarita to her lips.

“You’re sure about this?” she said in a small voice.

I nodded. “Damn sure. And Birdie had the same tattoo fifteen years ago.”

A grin twitched at the corner of her lips. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Sorry, Anna, but you’re doing that transference thing.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You had me going there,” she said, smirking as she busied herself with her pencil holder. “But now I realize you’re just confusing Birdie with this girl that you say you rescued. Another thing – why would you, a respectable teacher, frequent that kind of party? I believe the school board might have a few questions for you.”

I flipped her pencil container over sending pens and highlighters rolling across the desk. “You stupid bitch. You wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped you in your dumb face.”

Her fingers flexed into claws as if she was trying to restrain herself from scratching my eyes out. “What’s that saying? You can take the girl out of the street but you can’t take the street out of the girl. I believe our meeting is over, Anna. I have places I need to be.”

She stood up and began to pack her briefcase, but I wasn’t done.

“Make the most of your holiday, Linda. It’ll be your last. Because when I take Rafferty and Karrass down, I’ll take you with them. You and all the others who screwed up my life and Birdie’s. You’ll be lucky to find a job flipping burgers for minimum wage.”

She clicked her bag shut then pushed her face towards me, her cheeks puce with anger. “Get the hell out of here, Anna, and don’t come back until you’ve checked in with a psychiatrist and completed a course of treatment. I can’t deal with you anymore. You won’t accept the truth.”

“You mean your version of the truth. Just watch yourself, Linda. I’ll be back when I can finally prove you’re being paid to lie.”

“I’ll call security,” she said, picking up the phone. Her hand shook.

I stood by the door and looked back. “You’ll need security when I’m done because you’ll be looking over your shoulder to see who’s after you.”

“Out,” she screamed.

I swept down the hall as if my feet were barely touching the ground. Time to set the wheels in motion.

I’d been waiting fifteen years for this chance.

32

Guy’s face was still sickly-white when he came back from work. I’d bought takeout sushi but he took one look at the seaweed salad and slumped down onto the couch, head in his hands.

“How about a chilled club soda?” I said, clearing the containers up and stacking them in the fridge.

He nodded and groaned. “I’m hungover, but worse than that, I feel like crap about last night.” He flopped back against the cushions, his face the color of plaster. “Why do I let Dad talk me into these things?”

“Okay, what happened?” I asked as innocently as I could. I wasn’t about to tell him I’d actually witnessed the whole disgusting debacle and had rescued a minor from the marauding clutches of some of the city’s most upstanding citizens. I wanted to hear it in his own words from his own mouth. To test his honesty.

“It was pathetic. All these old guys leering at kids. Touching and interfering with girls who could’ve been their daughters or granddaughters. And they acted so entitled. I was ashamed to be there among them.”

I perched on the arm of the sofa. “You were drunk. I got your text.”

He scraped his fingers through his hair. “I was wasted. Lucky I passed out before I tried to punch the crap out of some of those perverts. I’m glad you didn’t end up coming there.”

“I stayed late at school. An emergency.” I chewed at my lip, hoping he hadn’t spotted the lie.

He grasped my wrist. “Anna, I want to be honest with you. I don’t want any secrets between us.”

“Okay,” I said, tilting my head and wondering what was coming next.

“It wasn’t just a drinking party. There were girls there. Strippers, prostitutes. Underage girls. I couldn’t tell how young. Selling themselves to men who should have known better. I wanted to get out but Dad kept feeding me drinks and like an idiot I drank them. I can’t believe I was so spineless. I should’ve left but I stayed like the dutiful son. I don’t want to be that kind of guy. I detest them all.”

“So I don’t need to worry about what you were up to all night?”

“Anna, I love you so much I can’t think of anyone