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She told him there wasn’t a chance and attempted to focus. Months passed of spending each communications class together and the knock-knock jokes had continued. She quickly came to realize Hays was as smart as he was kind, handsome, unassuming, witty, and charming. Those five hours each week spent next to Hays, smiling, laughing, talking, sometimes brushing hands under the table, had been the highlights of her miserable life.
She’d never forget the day they were walking down the hall together, her guards trailing them, when a crowd of basketball players blocked her guards from view and Hays was tugging her around a corner and into a janitorial closet. Her heart raced as Hays gathered her close and said, “Knock knock.”
“Who’s there?” she managed.
“Canoe.”
“Canoe who?”
“Canoe see yourself falling for a corny basketball player?”
“I already have,” she admitted.
Their lips had met, and she’d tried to show him with a sweet kiss that he was the only man she’d ever love. In his arms she was safe, exhilarated, and strengthened.
Fourteen years later, Hays and the stolen moments with him were still the highpoints of her bleak life. The only time she’d been able to let down her guard, drop her mask, be herself, and experience happiness. Even with her siblings, who she loved, she’d never been able to relax. Her parents would hurt Thomas if she wasn’t on her guard constantly.
Her focus now, as it had always been, was that her brother Thomas, now Quaid Raven, and her sister Jacqueline, Jacey, were safe. Even if Quaid despised her and believed she was as evil as their mother, Elizabeth would quietly protect them and their new spouses. She was ecstatic that they were safe and happy, but they wouldn’t stay that way if she didn’t intervene. Especially when Jacey did imprudent things like invite her and Father to visit.
Their mother had been killed over a month ago. It was a relief to know the murder and torture Catherine had thrived on wouldn’t be as prevalent. But nobody was safe. Especially not Quaid and Jacey and their spouses. Elizabeth’s puppeteer was still alive, and he was cunning, underhanded, and ready to move his devious plans forward. No one was capable of stopping him.
Elizabeth feared only she and the deceased Catherine Oliver knew that her sadistic mother had been her father’s pawn. A terrifying pawn who reveled in treachery, death, and pain, but she had never made a move without explicit instructions from Benjamin Oliver. No one would believe it if Elizabeth told them, and sadly, she had no one to tell. She had prayed as the FBI combed her father’s homes, email correspondence, bank accounts, and investment portfolios this past month that someone would see the truth.
Sadly, her father was far too brilliant. Catherine had taken the stain to her grave as Benjamin resurfaced as a freed victim, ‘grateful and willing to make recompense for his wife’s depraved acts that he was unable to stop while she executed her reign of horror.’ Of course the media had been impressed by Father’s humility and grace.
Shuddering, Elizabeth heard his voice in her head. The man behind the scenes moving the chess pieces has the real power, doll. You will receive the glory and I will direct the path. We’ll rise together.
Glory? Nightmare was the only description that fit Benjamin Oliver’s plans of glory for his eldest daughter.
Elizabeth listened but heard no footsteps or indicators that her father was back from his meeting. Taking a deep breath, she memorized the details of Jacey’s smile, hoping for Jacey and her new husband’s sake that Elizabeth would never see them in person.
She slid the photo back into the envelope. Did she dare hide it in her closet? Not long term, as Father had everything of hers randomly and regularly searched, but for a few hours to gaze at Jacey’s radiant happiness a few more times.
No. That would be foolish. She’d destroy it as soon as possible and continue searching for some means to relay a message to Quaid and Jacey. If only her siblings had any idea what they were dealing with. If only any of the FBI agents Elizabeth had attempted to confide in the past fourteen years had not been murdered in front of her to teach her a lesson or revealed themselves to be double agents working for her father.
Shoving those excruciating memories away, she pulled out the small white card.
Dad! Lizzy! I am married to the most incredible man on the planet. A cowboy. I know you will both love that.
Cade and I are ecstatically happy. It would mean the world to us if you would come celebrate at our wedding party.
Much love,
Jacey Miller
An address, date, and times were listed below that.
Panic. Elizabeth clutched at her chest and forced herself to take breaths. In and out. In and out. She crumpled the card in her hand.
What was Jacey thinking? Obviously their father knew exactly where Jacey was because Mother and six of their men had been killed while Cade Miller rescued Jacey. It was the most romantic image—the cowboy protecting her sister and killing the person Jacey had been most afraid of.
Elizabeth shook her head. Jacey had no idea who the real monster was. She and Quaid imagined they were safe, could live their lives with Mother dead. They believed Father was a beaten-down, spineless pawn, just as Mother had made him out to be, at his instruction.
Elizabeth should have found a way to show them the truth years ago, but Quaid would have thought she was playing her part, trying to lure him in or gain some other advantage. Mother had spent Quaid’s lifetime abusing and controlling him; he had been her favorite toy. Of course Jacey would now turn to their father, trusting that her dad, the person who had ‘protected’ her, would never hurt her.
Elizabeth had wanted to warn them for the past month now, but she hadn’t found any way to accomplish it. Not that they would believe her. Jacey believed their dad had sacrificed himself to protect her; she had no idea it was Elizabeth who had kept Jacey semi-safe until Quaid had rescued her. Quaid did not trust Elizabeth. He hadn’t for many years. How could Elizabeth get them to understand the truth? They were letting down their guard like they never would have dared when Mother was alive.
Elizabeth’s phone buzzed. She hurried to pull the slim device from the pocket of her tailor-made skirt. Each item of her clothing had such a pocket specifically designed so Elizabeth would never be away from her father’s beck and call. She had used the excuse once that her phone was in her purse and she hadn’t heard it. All of her clothing had been altered the next day.
