Dare to Surrender: The Dare Menage Series, Book 5 Page 2

  “Not even a peep. Not once. Not when I graduated high school. Not when I went off to college. Not when our lovely mother died. Not when I was drafted into the NFL. Not when I won the fucking Super Bowl.”

  The last part sounded bitter and raw. Liv watched various emotions cross his features. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was just trying to survive. I did what I had to do.”

  “Yeah, so did I.”

  Liv looked at him in surprise at his tone, wondering what he had to do to survive. Whatever he had to do, it seemed he had come out on the winning end.

  Gryff moved forward, laying a hand on Trey’s shoulder. “Look, you both did what you had to do. It was your mother who was to blame. T, don’t lay that on your sister’s shoulders. She was an innocent like you in the whole thing.”

  Maybe the man was an ally.

  “Which one of you is Jordan and which one is Ward?”

  The stunning woman came forward with a smile and held out her hand. “I’m Rayne Jordan. And that’s Gryffin Ward.”

  Liv took her hand tentatively, but Rayne shook it firmly and with respect. She raised her gaze from their clasped hands to her face, blinked at how green the other woman’s eyes were and then gave her a small smile. “I’m Olivia Holloway.”

  “I gathered that. Why don’t you have a seat?” Rayne swept a hand toward one of the many empty chairs that looked expensive but comfortable.

  “I… uh...”

  Gryff pulled out a nearby chair and also indicated that she should sit. She sat. Then her brother and his partners moved to the other side of the table and settled across from her.

  Liv cleared her throat since she suddenly felt as though she was on trial. “I’m sorry for coming here unexpectedly.”

  “You’re family. No need to apologize,” Gryff said, his expression blank.

  Family? Yes, to Trey. But…

  She slid her gaze to her brother. “Trey.”

  “Yes?”

  “I… uh. I need help.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think you showed up because you missed me.”

  Once again, heat crawled up Liv’s throat to flood her cheeks. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

  She rolled back her chair and before she could stand, a loud, deep voice commanded, “Stay.”

  “Boss,” Rayne murmured.

  Gryff didn’t take his eyes off Liv. “No, she came here for a reason. We need to hear why.”

  Boss? She thought they were partners.

  “Olivia,” Gryff started.

  “Liv. Please, call me Liv.”

  “Fine. Liv, no matter what, we’re family.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t understand how we’re family.”

  The three across from her looked at each other and then back to her. Trey finally said, “These are my partners, Liv.”

  “Okay, I get that. I saw your last names in big gold letters over the receptionist’s desk.”

  Trey took a deep breath. “We’re committed life partners, too.”

  Liv blinked, then stared at her brother. Committed life partners. What did that mean?

  Oh shit.

  “All three of you?”

  He nodded.

  “Oh.”

  “So, as much as I’m enjoying this little family reunion, can you tell me why you’re coming to me now after all these years?”

  “I… uh.”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” the large man across from her muttered, his hands flexing on the table.

  “Gryff,” Rayne said softly. “Give her a chance.”

  Liv’s eyes slid to Rayne, to Gryff, then back to her brother. “I... I shouldn’t be here.”

  Her brother was happy, settled, successful. She didn’t need to be dragging him into her mess.

  She could do this on her own. She could.

  Fuck. She couldn’t.

  She had no one who she could trust. She had nowhere to go. This was it. She had no choice.

  “I need help.”

  “You said that,” Trey said, his eyebrows pulled low. “Legal help?”

  “Yes... No...” She shook her head. It was all so freaking confusing. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Gryff asked, frowning.

  “I’m in trouble.”

  Gryff leaned back in his chair, his arms stretched out, his palms flat on the table in front of him. “No shit.”

  It was not a good idea to come here. It wasn’t. She needed to leave. She had no right to ask her brother for help. She had no right to intrude in his life. He owed her nothing.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, meeting her brother’s eyes. He had the exact same eyes as her. The same color hair. They looked so much alike but were complete strangers.

  “Don’t be sorry,” Rayne said softly. “Talk to us. We can help.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Then why did you come here?” Trey asked.

  “Because I have nowhere else to go.” The words spilled out of her in a rush. They were true, but she hated to admit it.

  “You found a place to go sixteen years ago,” her brother said softly, the hurt evident in his voice.

  Liv closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. “I had nowhere to go then, either.”

  “Are you going to get to the point or are you going to continue to jerk our chains?” Gryff finally said.

  “Boss,” Rayne murmured softly. Her hand slid over to cover one of his.

  His eyes dropped to study them then lifted back to Liv. “We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what the problem is.”

  She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Even if they couldn’t help, she needed to get this off her chest. She sucked in another breath. “I witnessed a murder.”

  Deafening silence greeted her from around the table. She stared at her own clasped hands, afraid to see their expressions.

  “Just go to the police and tell them what you witnessed,” Trey said like he heard that confession every day.

  If it was only that simple. “I can’t do that.”

  “Why?” Gryff asked, his deep voice now tinged with suspicion.

  “Because of who was involved,” she told the table.

  “Fuck,” Gryff grumbled.

  “Who was involved?” Rayne asked softly.

  She was afraid to even say his name. “Randall Dean,” she whispered, fear shooting through her. If anyone overheard her, found out what she knew, what she saw...

  Rayne sucked in a sharp breath, and Gryff made a noise. Liv glanced up at Trey, who was shaking his head, looking confused. “Who?”

  Gryff shot Trey a look. “Randall Dean,” he repeated, as if that would clear up her brother’s confusion.

  “I have no fucking clue who that is,” Trey answered.

  “He was involved?” Gryff asked, leaning forward, his body tense.

  “Yes,” Liv answered.

  “How?”

  “He killed her.” God, he killed Peggy.

  “Who?”

  A woman who was making changes to her life, a life she was trying to improve. Liv knew exactly what that was like. She had been in her shoes once. “A woman I knew.”

  “How do you know it was him?”

  He freaking wrapped his hands around her throat until all the life was squeezed out of her. “I saw him do it.”

  “Fuck!” Gryff barked to the ceiling. He grabbed the phone on the center of the conference table and jerked it toward him. He picked up the handset, jabbed some numbers and then growled, “Eli, in here, now,” then slammed down the phone.

  “Holy shit,” Rayne murmured. She sent worried eyes Liv’s direction. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” Hell yes, she was sure. She’d never forget what she saw. Not ever. That was burned into her brain and would be for the rest of her life.

  “So why can’t she go to the police?” Trey asked, still confused.

  The conference room door was yanked open and her former captor
stepped in, closing the door, eyes locked on her. Suddenly the room had so much less oxygen. She was finding it hard to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” Rayne asked, concern lacing her voice.

  No, no she wasn’t.

  She had pushed what she saw from her mind, trying only to think about how she could escape, how she could save herself. Once again, how she could survive.

  Suddenly, everything was coming crashing down on her all over again.

  And having this big man standing next to her, dark, intense eyes pinning her in her chair didn’t help.

  “Boss,” Eli grumbled.

  “Sit down,” Gryff said.

  “I’m fine...”

  He needed to sit down. To give her space. “Please,” Liv croaked. “Please.”

  Eli looked at her, his dark eyebrows furrowed. But he finally moved to the chair down from her, leaving an empty seat between them. For that, she was thankful.

  Something about his presence overwhelmed her, and she wouldn’t be able to talk, to answer questions, with him looming over her.

  “What’s going on?” Eli asked, his eyes flicking from her to Gryff back to her.

  “She saw a Randall Dean kill someone,” Trey said from the other end of the table.

  Eli’s gaze swung his direction. “What?”

  “Do you know who he is?” her brother asked.

  “Holy fuck,” Eli breathed.

  “Right,” Gryff grunted.

  “This is a mess,” Rayne added.

  Eli held up a hand. “Hold up. We need to rewind, and I need to hear this from the beginning.”

  “I think we all do,” Gryff agreed.

  Then all eyes landed on her. Shit.

  Chapter 2

  Eli studied Trey Holloway’s sister. She looked just like the former Super Bowl champion. He should’ve seen it from the beginning.

  Trey was a pretty boy. Eli had to admit the man was sexy and the former football star certainly knew it. But Olivia was more than pretty, she was beautiful. Stunning, even. But her beauty appeared haunted.

  After what he just heard, he could understand the shadows under her eyes, the worried look, the fidgeting.

  But the haunted look ran deeper than that.

  However, he doubted that had anything to do with the information he just heard. He slid her water bottle toward her. “Take a drink. Take a breath. And start from the beginning.”

  With a shaky hand, she unscrewed the cap and tipped the plastic bottle to her lips. Eli watched her throat undulate as she swallowed.

  And, for fuck’s sake, that made him feel something he hadn’t felt in ages.

  He hadn’t had an attraction to a woman in a great long while. Maybe it was because she was a female version of Trey? Trey was hot, sure. But even so...

  What was crazy was that as soon as he saw her in the lobby acting like a skittish filly, an overwhelming need to protect her had rushed through him.

  He hadn’t felt that in a long time, either, because his husband, Grant, definitely could take care of himself.

  And when the woman was ready to run, he stopped her. He hadn’t wanted her to leave. He would never stop a client, or a potential client, from walking out of the firm. It wasn’t his business to do so.

  But Olivia Holloway was no client.

  And the name that Trey had just thrown out made a chill run down his spine.

  Randall Dean.

  Fuck.

  He turned to Trey. “Randall Dean is a state senator. Very powerful, uber conservative. He’s got connections. Most of them questionable.”

  “He’s the one always pushing against women’s rights. Like a woman’s right to choose. He’s even against birth control. Hell, he’s the type of man who’d remove a woman’s right to vote, if he could. Take away a woman’s voice. And equal pay? Forget it. His wife’s a freaking scared mouse who’s a puppet,” Rayne explained to Trey, her voice as cold as ice crystals. “She probably brings him his slippers, a pipe, and a fucking bourbon on the rocks when he walks in the door, while wearing pearls and a dress with an apron over it.”

  Trey’s gaze fell on his sister. “So, you saw him kill someone.” Not a question, but a statement.

  Eli still needed for Olivia to rewind her story. He needed to hear the details. “Again, Olivia, start from the beginning.”

  “Liv,” she corrected him, twisting the cap back on the water bottle. Then her sky-blue eyes met his and held. No, he was wrong. He may have thought she was skittish and maybe in her current situation it was true, but there was strength hidden behind those worried eyes. She was strong, tough, a survivor.

  Like Eli. Like Gryff. Like her brother, Trey.

  He knew how she’d grown up because he had investigated Trey a couple years ago and found out about his past, including his mother. Somehow, he’d missed Olivia’s existence. Although, he hadn’t been looking for that.

  But now he was looking right at her.

  She might be tough deep down inside, but he needed to coax out the information from her gently. He needed every detail she could remember, and he didn’t want her to shut down.

  Not if she needed their help. His help. Because he had a feeling this was going to land on his shoulders. And, fuck him, he was going to volunteer to help her, no matter what came out her mouth, no matter how bad of a mess she was in. And with Randall Dean involved, bad might be an understatement.

  “How far back do you want me to go?” she asked, studying him.

  This was not the time or the place for this woman to be peaking his interest. And he wasn’t thinking about her troubles, he was thinking his interest in everything that was her. Everything that made Olivia Holloway who she was.

  He wanted to know everything about her. What she had done every second of every minute since she ran from her childhood nightmare, leaving her brother behind.

  “First off, how do you know this woman?”

  “I met her on the street when she was prostituting.”

  Jesus Christ. Was Trey’s sister prostituting, too? It wouldn’t surprise him. Most young runaways ended up doing whatever they had to in an attempt to survive. Including selling their bodies, selling their souls.

  Eli shot a quick glance to Trey, but his face was a blank mask. Gryff’s appeared the same. His boss would wait to hear more details before judging the situation, but then that was Gryff. Solid and stoic, for the most part. Rayne looked sad. His eyes slid back to Liv.

  “Okay...” he said, encouraging her to continue.

  “I helped her find a decent apartment and a job. It wasn’t anything great, but it was a start.”

  “Why’d you do that?” Gryff asked, but Eli raised a hand.

  “Doesn’t matter,” Eli told Liv. “That’s a story for another time. Let’s stick to what’s important right now.”

  “I... uh... I would stop in once a week to check on her. Take her to lunch. Make sure she was staying on track, staying off the street...”

  “How did she know Dean?”

  Liv shook her head. “He’d been one of her johns.”

  Rayne made a noise, causing Liv to glance in her direction.

  “For how long?” Eli asked.

  “I don’t know. A long time. Before I met her. He was a regular.”

  “Mr. Upstanding God-fearing Man. Hypocritical asshole,” Rayne grumbled.

  Eli shot a look at Rayne and shook his head slightly. She needed to keep her temper under control. He could understand why a lot of women didn’t like Dean, he wanted to go back to the fifties when a woman remained under her husband’s thumb.

  Hell, the man thought gay marriage was an abomination. He was of the “God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve” close-minded variety. Equality was certainly not a word in that man’s vocabulary.

  “Once she was off the street and no longer prostituting he continued to see her?”

  “Yes. I think she held out hope, sort of like in the movie Pretty Woman. She expected him to take her away from everythi
ng. Hell, even leave his wife. I told her it was never going to happen, that she was fooling herself. He only went to her because he liked...” She grabbed her bottle of water, unscrewed the cap and finished it off.

  “Liked?” Eli prodded.

  He didn’t miss it when she swallowed hard.

  She lowered her voice. “He liked certain things. Things he could never ask his wife to do. Things Peggy was willing to do to keep him around, to try to draw him in. But that’s the only reason he showed up. He didn’t want her. He didn’t want a future with her.”

  “Of course not,” Eli murmured.

  “What kind of shit was he into that his wife wouldn’t do?” Trey asked.

  “I don’t think that’s important—” Eli started.

  “She only told me some of it. I stopped her before she could tell me the rest,” she told her brother.

  “Again, that’s not important right now. If and when it is, you can tell us,” Eli assured her.

  Liv nodded.

  He continued to try to keep her on track. “So, the day she was murdered, what did you see? How did you see it? What lead up to it?”

  “I stopped over there because I was close by. I had no idea he would be there. She had no idea I was coming. I figured I could treat her to lunch... I...”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, the hand still holding the empty water bottle tightened until the plastic bottle crushed between her fingers.

  Eli pulled it from her and put it aside, grabbing her hand with his. He could feel her tension as she squeezed his fingers in a death grip.

  “I knocked, but she didn’t answer. I knocked again. Nothing. But I heard her inside. I even called her name. She wouldn’t come to the door and I got worried. I heard thrashing and a voice. I... I thought she was hurt.” She stopped, her eyes still shut, her face pale. Her fingers still gripping his. “Fuck,” she whispered, then she opened her eyes and looked Eli dead in the face. The haunted look was there, stronger than ever. “I tried the knob. It wasn’t locked. Why didn’t he lock the door?”

  “I don’t know,” Eli murmured. “What did you see?”

  “She was on the floor.”

  “Where was he?”

  “On top of her.”

  “Having sex?”

  She shook her head. “No.”