More, Sloan Parker [guided reading books TXT] 📗

Richard didn't sound like himself. He wasn't talking in his commanding tone. He wasn't being firm, yet caring. He was screaming at me.

“I have to!” I yelled back and sank into a chair. Matthew put his hand on my shoulder, the touch nervous, but solid.

We were in an empty interrogation room on the third floor of the FBI field office, five days after we gave our statements.

Only a couple of the detectives had glared at us like we were crazy when we told them the three of us were in a relationship together. Then, all of them gave us stares of disbelief when I told them my father, the senator, had fraudulently stolen millions from Richard's investment accounts and had threatened to have Matthew and Richard killed if I didn't do as he asked.

Because it involved a US senator, the FBI had taken the allegations seriously and was working the case with the Department of Justice and local authorities. Even the FBI Special Agent in Charge had been involved in the initial layout of evidence. Not that there was much of that. A few sheets of testimony from my lovers and me were all they had to go on— were all that connected my father to any of his crimes.

The FBI said they needed tangible evidence in order to continue with any investigation. They could either question him or I could help them. Neither option was on my top ten list. But the week deadline was almost up, and something had to happen or Richard and Matthew would never be safe. So I agreed to do what had Matthew nervous as hell and Richard pissed off at me.

I agreed to wear a wire and go after a confession from my father.

The plan wasn't a popular one with the FBI either. Even after the warrant had been signed, there was much debate over the planned surveillance. No one wanted to attempt a recording of the presidential hopeful confessing anything more mundane than where he gets his hair cut. In the end, the task force reluctantly came to the conclusion it was the best way to either learn if he had anything to do with the stolen funds and threats, or to eliminate him as a suspect.

In spite of it being what I had to do, the decision was met with resistance from the men in my life, neither wanting me anywhere near my father or his lackey. I shuffled them into the empty interrogation room in hopes of gaining their support. We'd just made it inside when Richard protested the plan, screaming like I'd never heard him do before.

“What other options are there?” I asked when I could speak without raising my voice.

“How about we let the agents do their jobs first? See what they can find out. We just brought this to them. Give it some time. They're trying to track the money.”

“They still think you might have stolen it. It's been five days. You know as well as I do, if they bring my father in for questioning, he'll know it was me. He'll think I've defied him. You were right when you said he'd risk it all to come after us. He's that fucking crazy.”

Richard's eyebrows rose. “That's supposed to be your argument that it's okay to do this? What do you think he'll do if he catches you wearing a wire?”

“The FBI will be there.”

“He won't let you take everything from him.”

Matthew stepped close to Richard and placed a hand on his arm. “I don't think you or I've got a say in this.”

I laughed at the look Richard gave Matthew. Boy, he liked to have control, and Matthew telling him he couldn't shocked us all.

Matthew rubbed Richard's arm. “This is his chance to show his father what sort of man Luke is. Show him that standing up and fighting mean more than running and hiding. That Luke is more of a man than his father will ever be. We can't keep him from doing this if he needs to. If his father gets away with it, becomes president, he'll blame himself... and us.”

Richard met Matthew's gaze. His eyes pleaded for understanding. “I can't. I can't let him do this.”

I flew out of the chair. “Let me? Who the hell do you think you are?”

Richard glared at me. “The man who's in love with you.” He pointed a finger at me, jabbing it in my face, reminding me of the entire year of verbal abuse I'd received from the ninety-year-old nun at St. Mary's Elementary who was pulled out of retirement to cover my class when Mrs. Slawinski had gone on maternity leave. I wanted to swat his hand away as much as I did hers. I held back. Although I wasn't sure why. I certainly wasn't ten. And he wasn't a nun. He yelled louder. “I won't stand by and watch you try to prove something and get yourself hurt. All so you can stand up to your father.” Richard stalked across the room, grabbed a chair, and fell into it. “I don't know if I can keep doing this.”

My mouth dropped open. “What?”

“Sit back and watch while you pull away from us.”

“I'm not... this has nothing to do with you.”

“How do you figure? We're the ones he's threatening. I'm the one whose reputation he's trying to ruin. I'm the one who might end up in jail. Matthew's the one that fucker had a knife to. How does it not involve us?”

“I didn't mean it like that.”

“You meant what? I've no say in how we protect ourselves? I think the FBI should handle this. Not you.”

“They're the ones asking me to do this.”

“Doesn't mean you have to. What if he doesn't confess? What if they get nothing on him? And he knows you were helping them? What do we do then?”

“We'll figure it out.”

“I'm not waiting around to find out.” He rose and covered the distance between us with two large strides. “If you do this