Breaking Free (7 page)

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Authors: C.A. Mason

BOOK: Breaking Free
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“No, I didn’t escape,” I said, laughing. Laughing? Was I really laughing? The sound was so foreign, I could barely believe it was still possible. “Someone else confessed to murdering those girls.”

“I knew it,” my mother said, squeezing my arm as she bounced on her toes. “I just knew the truth would come out.”

“But there’s more to the story,” my father said, eyeing me shrewdly. As a career cop, of course he’d know I was trying to hide something. “What is it?”

“This guy said he had nothing to do with Maura’s case.” I shrugged as if I couldn’t care less. I couldn’t let them know how much that still hurt. “The main thing is I’m free.”

“Yeah, but you have a record,” my father said, sighing. “That’s gonna make it tough to find a job. And what about parole? You have to check in, right?”

“Yeah, I do.” But I didn’t intend to. I intended to go so far underground, they’d never find me. I’d given the justice system a chance to work, and it had failed me. I wouldn’t play by their rules anymore.

“Enough about that,” my mother said, guiding me into the living room. “Can I get you something to eat?”

Real food. My mama’s home cooking. My stomach rumbled at the thought. She must have heard it, because she smiled.

“I made a roast beef last night. Let me fix you a sandwich.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

My father was still standing in the doorway, and he glanced at my duffle bag.

“Don’t worry, Dad. I don’t intend to stay here.”

His ruddy cheeks gave him away. That was exactly what he’d feared. “Well, you know you’re welcome to, but—”

“I can’t start a new life here. Everyone knows my name, my face. They all know what they think I did. I need to start over in a big city, somewhere where no one knows me.”

My father sank into a worn old armchair that had a permanent indent from his ass. “Yeah, but what about your parole officer? You have to check in with him.”

“I will,” I assured him, knowing full well I wouldn’t. Some would say I was crazy to risk being a fugitive, but I had a scheme that would allow me complete and total freedom. I intended to reinvent myself. “I won’t move that far away, just far enough to get a little distance from these close-minded—” I bit my tongue, knowing how much my father still loved the citizens of the town where he’d been born and raised. “People. I’ll get a job as a day laborer, save some money—”

“About that,” my father said, looking thoughtful. “I have something for you.” He walked over to an antique desk in the corner of the room. He extracted a key ring from his pocket before fitting one of the small keys into the lock and pulling an envelope from the drawer. “When your grandmother died, you know we sold the family farm to a developer.”

“Yeah.” I hated that I couldn’t even go to my paternal grandmother’s funeral. We’d been close when I was growing up; I’d even spent some summers with her after my grandfather died. I knew she’d hoped I would take an interest in the family farm, but just like everyone else in my life, I’d disappointed her. “What about it?”

“Your grandmother’s will was very specific,” my father said, turning the envelope over in his hands.

My mother returned with a plate piled high with fresh veggie sticks and a sandwich on her homemade bread. Even though I was salivating, I was dying to know what my father was getting at. Sitting on the arm of the chair beside her husband, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You know how fond she was of you, Matthew. She never believed you could do the things they’d accused you of. She said you were a good boy, and they’d realize their mistake in time.” Placing a hand on his wife’s knee, he said, “Just like your mama, she was a woman of faith. She believed God would set you free, and apparently she was right.”

God or an inmate on death row with nothing left to lose? I had no desire to argue semantics.

“So her will stated the farm was to be sold and her assets divided among her only living relatives. That means me and your mama split everything with you.”

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard of this before. My grandmother had been dead for almost eight years. Her farm was on almost a thousand acres of prime land. “I don’t think I deserve—”

“It doesn’t matter what you think,” my father said firmly. “My job is to carry out my mama’s wishes, and that’s what I’ve done.” He handed me the envelope. “We invested the principle on your behalf. It’s grown to a considerable amount.” He smiled. “It was a considerable amount to begin with. God’s not making any more land. The developers know that.”

I looked around the old house. It looked the same as it had the last time I was there. The furniture was still old and scarred. The wallpaper was original. Hell, I even recognized the cars in the driveway. “Why didn’t you retire sooner?”

My father squared his shoulders. “Why would I? I worked damn hard for that pension. They weren’t going to cheat me out of it.”

I smiled. My father had always been a proud man, determined to provide for his family on his own terms. I turned the envelope over, almost afraid to look inside. I knew without even looking that it would be enough to chart my own course, and now that I was on the verge of starting my new life, I was apprehensive. I’d never been anyone other than Matt Cooper, and I was preparing to become someone else. Someone I didn’t know. Someone no one knew.

“Go on, look at it,” my father said, grinning. “I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

Stunned was more like it.
Two million, eight hundred, seventy-three thousand dollars and twenty-three cents.
Yeah, definitely enough to start a new life. It was like the Universe was giving me the means to execute my plan. I’d never been the lucky one. Years in prison had proved that, but was the tide finally turning?

“I can’t believe this.”

“What are your plans now, honey?” my mother asked, beaming. “You can do anything you want with that money. Start a business maybe? How about a martial arts school? You could train young people.”

When I didn’t respond to her idea with enthusiasm, she and my father shared a look. I could tell they were concerned I might blow the fortune my grandparents had spent their lifetimes amassing. I knew exactly what I intended to do, but I couldn’t tell them.

“I’m not sure yet,” I said hesitantly. “I was just telling Dad I need to get away, put a little distance between me and this town.”

“Oh, you’re not leaving right away, are you?” my mother asked, looking disappointed. “I was hoping you’d stay with us for a while. I’d love nothing more than to take care of you, you know, until you figure things out.”

My mother was a good woman, which was why I couldn’t drag her or my father into my problems. The court may have acknowledged I wasn’t guilty of raping or murdering those other girls, but they still believed I’d hurt Maura. More importantly, she still believed I’d hurt her. I had to prove to her and the rest of the world I hadn’t.

“I appreciate that.” I reached for her hand and squeezed it. “But I’ll be moving on tomorrow. I just wanted you guys to know that I’m gonna be okay now. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

My mother frowned. “Why does it sound like you’re saying good-bye, Matthew? You’re not, are you? You’ll still come to visit, call, email—”

I held my hand up to silence her. “Mama, I love you both. You know that. But I have a lot of lost time to make up for. I need to make a new life for myself, and I don’t know yet where that’s going to take me.” I did know exactly where it would take me, but I’d have to get good at lying if my plan was going to work.

“Just know that we’re always here for you, son,” my father said. “And we’re so glad to see you out of that place.” He pointed at the envelope. “I know you’ll do good things with that money. Your nana always said you were one of the smartest people she knew. Prove it. Make her proud.”

“I will, Dad.” I had to. Failure wasn’t an option.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

February 2014

 

I stared into the mirror, startled by the face looking back at me. It shouldn’t catch me off guard after six years, but sometimes it did. The cosmetic surgeon had been a magician, gifted in the art of transformation.

I pried my eyes open and slid the colored contact lenses into place. My real eye color was light blue, just like my old man’s, but now my eyes were brown. I had a few slightly chipped teeth—a fighter’s teeth—but they were hiding behind veneers. I thought they looked a little too perfect, a little too white. But they suited the new me.

I had a new name. A new face. A new career. There was no trace of the man I used to be.

In six years, I’d built an empire that would take others a lifetime to build, and I’d done it on my terms. I brought my brand of fighting, mixed martial arts, into the mainstream. I made my fighters celebrities who had their faces plastered all over TVs nationwide. More importantly, I made myself a billionaire in the process. Now it was time to face my past.

Walking into the crowded ballroom, I looked for familiar faces. It was my company’s anniversary party, a celebration. But for me, it was so much more. Everything I’d been working for revolved around my plan to clear my name, and tonight, I would take the first step.

My partner, the man who’d financed my dream, walked up and clapped me on the back. He was in his seventies and didn’t know a thing about fighting, but he’d recognized the hunger in my eyes the first time we met. Malcolm claimed he didn’t get rich by ignoring his gut, so whatever I was pitching, he was buying. The rest was history.

“I still can’t believe we managed to pull this off, Blaise. It’s one hell of a coup, wouldn’t you say?”

Blaise.
Hearing that name often gave me pause. Blaise Walsh, the man behind the fighting dynasty. That’s who I was. Matthew Cooper Jr. didn’t exist anymore. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, he’d gone into hiding. He was a fugitive, on the run, and he’d keep running for as long as he had to.

“It is,” I said, when I realized Malcolm was expecting a response. I snagged two glasses of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and offered Malcolm one. “To success.”

“To success.” Malcom smiled, looking wistful. “You’ve brought something to my life, something I didn’t even know was missing.”

Malcolm had brought something to my life too. He was like a father to me, a confidant, and the only person who’d believed in me, but even he didn’t know the man behind the mask.

“Really? I can’t imagine you were missing anything. You were already wildly successful by the time we met.” I was trying to give Malcolm the attention he deserved, but I was subtly scanning the room for
her
.

She was around somewhere; she had to be. Her company had organized the event for us, and she’d promised to attend to ensure the event went off without a hitch. One of my senior managers had hired her. I’d wanted to wait until tonight to
meet
her. Of course, we wouldn’t be meeting for the first time, but I was the only one who would know that.

“You reignited a passion in me. It had been a long time since I’d built a business from the ground up, especially one that I knew nothing about. You taught me as much as I taught you. We’re good together,” Malcom said. “A hell of a team.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

It’s her.
My heart was in my throat, and the composure I prided myself on was completely lost. I felt as though I couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in on me. Would she recognize me? Would she scream or slip outside to call the police? As tempting as it was to think about abandoning my plan, I knew that wasn’t an option. I’d come too far to quit.

“Excuse me, Malcolm. I see someone I need to talk to.” I approached her slowly, afraid to spook her.

She was on the phone, having what appeared to be a heated conversation. At first I assumed it was with a supplier, but it didn’t take me long to realize it was personal.

“I don’t care. You don’t have the right to decide for me, Jeff. Of course I love you, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to commit to a wedding date right this second.”

I felt as if the room was spinning, but I couldn’t blame it on the champagne. My world had just bottomed out. Of course I knew she had a boyfriend, but the wedding bit had thrown me for a loop.

I knew her engagement may make it more difficult to put the next phase of my plan into action, but since failure wasn’t an option, I was determined to find a way. Every woman had an Achilles’ heel and no one knew her weaknesses better than I did. That gave me a distinct advantage, and while the old me may have felt a twinge of guilt about ruining her relationship, I knew there was no place for guilt or remorse if I wanted retribution.

“I have to go,” she hissed, spotting me. “No, I’ll call you later. I’m working. Don’t call me again.” She plastered on a fake smile as she disconnected the call and extended her hand. “You’re Blaise Walsh, aren’t you? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you. My name’s Maura Lancaster. I’m the event planner. I trust everything is to your satisfaction?”

I grasped her hand, moving into her personal space. My eyes roamed her body, taking in her shimmery silver dress that grazed the floor and was cut low in both the front and back. It was elegant, like the woman wearing it, but I knew she too was wearing a mask. Unless she’d changed. Maybe the attack had changed her. Maybe she didn’t enjoy sex anymore. Perhaps she was even afraid of intimacy.

“Mr. Walsh?” She frowned as she withdrew her hand from my firm grasp. “Is there a problem?”

“No, no problem.” I narrowed my eyes, searching for some trace of recognition. One of the few things I hadn’t been able to change was my voice, but it didn’t seem to faze her. She hadn’t recognized me. “Everything looks great.”

“I’m so relieved,” she said, flattening her palm against her chest. “I was surprised when one of your staff members called me. We normally do local events, weddings and such. We’ve never managed an event this large or so far from home.”

“I trust you were fairly compensated for your trouble.” I knew she was. I’d read her contract and made sure my people made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.

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