The Intern Serials: Complete Box Set (18 page)

Chapter Five

Bentley

GOD DAMMIT, WHY did I still want her? After everything she has put me through, I know I should stay the fuck away.

But I can’t. Instead, I text her and tell her to tell me everything she knows about her dad’s death. I had planned to dig into his case anyway, but perhaps the information she has can help me out.

Cecilia:
I know there were issues with money. My sister remembers hearing them fight about it. According to their finances, their monthly income was not stable and was inconsistent. Do you think that could be the reason someone wanted him dead?

Me:
It’s a possibility. Just let me figure that out, Ceci. Just tell me anything you remember or any dreams you’ve had. Have you had any dreams?

Cecilia:
Well, most recently I had one that was like a flashback. I was sleeping when I heard them arguing in the kitchen about how my dad had spent all this money they didn’t have. My mom was worried about having to sell the house. My dad told her he’d find a way to get a Ramiro to give him more time. I also found a note with the name Samuel Anderson on it with a lock box code. When I told my mother about it, she freaked out and said I was going to get us killed trying to figure it out. I know she knows something…or at least has suspicions.

Bentley:
Okay, thanks. That’s all really good to know. I’ll let you know when I find more information out. It might take a few weeks.

Cecilia:
All right.

Cecilia:
Thank you, Bentley. You don’t know what this means to me.

I swallow hard as I read her last text. I never expected to be getting information from the victim’s child years later about a case. It’s almost unheard of but at this point…what did I have to lose? Ceci wanted answers and finding out any kind of truth would make Leighton Enterprises look good. I just hope my father feels the same way after everything.

I don’t text her back because I don’t want her thinking we’re now coordinating on this together. This is strictly a business relationship. Nothing more. It can’t turn into anything anymore…

I focus all my attention on everything Ceci told me. I read over the file, looking into his finances. They are definitely inconsistent for at least two years, which is ironic for someone who worked a salary day job. Something definitely looked suspicious.

I follow the bank that he and his wife shared. Turns out he had several accounts in his name without his wife’s name. Definitely suspicious.

There isn’t a whole lot to go off the name Ramiro without a last name. I look into our database anyway, perhaps a drug lord or dealer that’s been mentioned previously, but I find nothing.

For the next two weeks, I engross myself into Mr. West’s file. I go to my kickboxing classes twice a week and do more research. After awhile, I’m no longer doing this just for the sake of the company. I want Ceci to have closure as well.

*   *   *

A soft knock interrupts my thoughts, and I tell whomever it is to enter. My head lifts up as I watch Ceci walk in. She flashes a small smile as she walks over to my desk, taking the chair in front of me.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” I smile back.

“Thanks for…um…helping me. Letting me come here.” Her voice cracks and I can tell how nervous she is. It’s been a month since we’ve last seen each other.

“You’re welcome. I’ve been doing some digging based on what you’ve told me, and I might have a few answers for you.”

Her body stiffens and I know this is something she’s been waiting to hear for a long time.

“I did an extensive search for Samuel Anderson, nothing linked back that was tied to your father.”

Her shoulders slump as she lets out a disappointing breath.

“However, I investigated the lock box number and code and was able to trace it back to a bank in Iowa. It’s registered under your dad’s name.” She wrinkles her nose as her eyes narrow, confused. “He used a pseudo name for the lock box, actually.”

She adjusts her hair and sits taller. “Wait…
he’s
Samuel Anderson?”

“Yes. He has a bank account set up through them that pays the monthly cost directly. When I spoke with the manager, he told me it was set up before he died. He has just enough money in that account to pay for it for ten years.”

She gasps. “Ten years?”

“No one’s allowed to open it until then.”

“What? Why?”

I shrug. “Those were the orders.”

She leans back in the chair, defeated. “That makes no sense.”

I clear my throat to grab her attention. “I also checked into his financials again, getting the history on all his accounts. He had a joint account with your mom as well as his individual accounts.”

“Okay?”

“They were all unstable. One month they’d be broke, the next he deposited thousands. A few months later, the same thing. It went on like that for a couple of years.”

“But I thought we already knew that?” she questions.

“Well, yes. But he was taking out large chunks at once. As if he had been paying something off. One month there would be a lot, and the next completely broke.”

I watch as she chews her lip and shifts her eyes from me to the floor several times before she speaks again. “I don’t understand.”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, not wanting to tell her the bad news. “It’s speculated, Ceci, that he was into gambling.” I watch her breath hitch. “He was an addict,” I clarify.

“No…that can’t be right.” She shakes her head. “We live in one of the nicest neighborhoods. My mom was a stay-at-home mom.”

“The deposits were thousands of dollars, suggesting that he borrowed the cash to feed his addiction. He probably felt he could win it back and pay his debt. When addicts lose, they don’t stop at anything. They will borrow as much money as they can to keep gambling. So he’d win a large amount and then gamble it all away. That was why the deposits were always inconsistent.”

She continues shaking her head in disbelief, her eyes glazing over.

“I had a hunch, Ceci, and I ran with it. I contacted the nearest Casino and was able to confirm old records of his winnings. I know it’s not what you want to hear—”

I stop when I see tears falling down her cheeks. Her head is lowered to her chest, but I can see her eyes tightly sealed.

I round my desk and kneel down in front of her. “Ceci…I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted to do was deliver bad news about your dad. I swear. I’m extremely thorough. I wouldn’t pass on information I wasn’t absolutely certain of.”

Her body begins trembling as she tries to conceal the cries that are escaping. I rub both thumbs under her eyes and wipe away her tears.

Her head falls deeper into her lap. Her hands catch her face as she sobs heavily. Her body shakes as she finally releases the horror that she’s been living all these years.

I dig my face into her hair, trying to comfort her. I rub my hands up and down her legs in a consoling gesture, trying to get her to stop shaking.

“Shh…I’m here, Ceci.”

She lifts her head up just enough to grab my shirt and dig her face into my chest. She sobs uncontrollably, not concealing her emotions any longer. My heart sinks at how badly she’s hurting—reliving the event and the years she’s had to live without him.

Being able to touch and comfort her when she needs it most sends a chill down my spine. As much as she hurt me, it can’t be in any comparison as to how she’s feeling finding the truth out about her dad—
her hero.

While texting back and forth about her dad, it was easy to see how important he was to her, which makes it that much harder having to tell her this.

“Sweetheart, please don’t cry.” It’s breaking everything inside me to see her like this. Knowing the strong, confident Ceci and watching her break down like this was breaking
me
down. I cup her face and force her to look up at me. Her eyes close on contact as I wipe her tears again with the pads of my thumbs.

I’ll do anything to take this pain away from her. I’m desperate to hold her and kiss her—anything to console her, but I restrict myself, not wanting to take advantage of her situation.

Her tears finally start to fade away, and she sits back up, wiping her cheeks. She chokes out a laugh as she takes in my shirt. “I’m sorry. I ruined your shirt.”

I cock my head and laugh with her. “You really think I care about my fucking shirt?”

She sniffs and composes herself before replying, “I can’t believe I cried that hard. I haven’t done that in years.”

“Well, then maybe it’s a good thing. Something needed to trigger those emotions to come out finally.”

She nods in agreement. “I guess so.” She swallows back the tears. “I was such a naïve kid. I thought we were the perfect family—apparently we weren’t.”

I lean in slowly and cup her face with one hand. “We’re all naïve as children. You were supposed to think everything was perfect. That was their jobs as parents to protect you. And it sounds like they did a good job.” I smile weakly, hoping to give her some clarity.

I look into her sad eyes and hesitate at first, but finally close the gap and softly kiss her lips. She matches my rhythm, soft and slow. My body is pressed in between her legs, making our faces align just perfectly. I feel her body heat up as I intensify the kiss, but realize I need to slow down.

I break the tender kiss, leaning my forehead against hers not ready to let go of her just yet.

I hear her swallow deeply, almost moaning from the sudden loss. I know I can’t lead her on to think anymore can happen, or perhaps it’s so I don’t think this can go any further.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for everything. I still have a lot of questions, but at least I have some answers. It’s better than being completely left in the dark…”

I rock back on my feet and kiss her forehead before standing up. I grab her hands and pull her up with me so we are standing chest to chest. Her eyes are still red and blotchy from sobbing, but I can tell she’s feeling better since letting it all out.

“You’re welcome, Cecilia.”

She looks up at me with pain in her eyes. It’s the first time I’ve called her by her real name since I kicked her out of my office, but I need to set boundaries. The truth remains—she lied to me.

“I know I don’t deserve any of your kindness or your help, but I hope someday you can forgive me.” She looks down before stepping around the chair and walking toward the door.

I’m living in a constant battle between wanting her and hating her. No…I could never hate her, but I was shattered when the truth came out. That much I know is true. However, it doesn’t make my feelings for her any less real.

“Cecilia,” I call out. She quickly turns around, her eyes pleading for me to not let her go. “Glad to help. I’ll let you know if I find anything else.”

She nods appreciatively and grabs the door handle. She stops just before stepping out and turns toward me. “Goodbye, Bentley.”

Part Two

Chapter Six

Cecilia

THERE’S A REASON your past is supposed to stay in the past. There’s a reason you want to forget. There’s a reason the past hurts.

Isn’t time supposed to heal all wounds?

Well…twelve months hasn’t done shit.

Forgetting about Bentley Leighton is next to impossible. No matter what I did to distract myself, no matter who I befriended, or how many ‘dates’ I went out on—it’s his face I see every day.

No, literally.

Six months after leaving his office for the last time, his perfect square-jaw, and his intense eyes surrounded by his golden, messy locks were plastered everywhere. Billboards, magazine ads, E! News, T.V. Commercials.

Every-fucking-where.

Back to his roots, America’s sexy-as-sin bad boy was back in full force—the press’s words, not mine—doing international shoots, exclusive interviews, and promoting all the newest and high-end products such as underwear, expensive clothing, men’s hair products, and even foreign cars. If it cost more than my tuition, he’s promoting it. 

At first, I was happy for him. I was happy he went after what truly made him happy. I could always tell he was meant for that lifestyle. He was meant to be in the spotlight.

After reading the first dozen tabloid magazines about his exclusive lifestyle of partying, girls, and wild drinking, I was done reading them. I couldn’t without crying. I kept thinking about who he was taking to bed, who he was giving himself to, if he were missing me, or even thinking of me…

Of course not.

I didn’t deserve to be on his radar, and I’ve accepted that. We were supposed to move on. However, it’s next to impossible when your biggest mistake, biggest regret is constantly around taunting you.

As long as he’s happy.

As long as he is with someone who makes him happy.

As long as he’s moved on from the damage I caused…I’m happy for him.

Or so I keep telling myself.

*   *   *

I was no more than just a shell, living on autopilot to get through my first year of college. A shell filled with regret and heartbreak.

I’ve adjusted to my new lifestyle—college classes, working part-time on campus, studying, and hanging with friends. I look like your average college student, doing average college things, but I’m anything but average.

I was able to fool my roommate for the past year, but now I was packing up and heading back home for the summer. Casey graduated college last year and moved to California to pursue her sudden dream of acting. Threw Mom for a loop, but who was she to hold her back…so she gave Casey her blessing and helped pack her bags. So now, it’ll just be Nathan, Mom, and me. Oh joy.

“Can you believe we survived our first year? Holy shit. I can’t believe how fast it went,” my roommate, Katelynn gushes as she tapes up her last box. “I’m going to miss this place.”

I turn to scowl at her. “You’re going to miss this?” I wave my hands around. “This ten by ten prison cell?”

“Okay, so it’s a little small…but that just made us closer.” She smiles genuinely. She’s the polar opposite of me, which is how I made it through my first year of college in the first place. Even when I tried to push her away, she never let me get too far.

“Perhaps a little too close, Kate.” I grin at her as I nod my head toward her bed.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” She narrows her eyebrows at me.

“Probably not.” I laugh. “Hey, I’m all for self-pleasure. You want to use a vibrator to get your cookies off, more power to you. Just warn me next time so I can put my headphones in.” I smirk at her, making her cheeks blush.

“I’m so glad we’re going to be hundreds of miles apart.” She turns and plops a suitcase on her bed.

“No, you’re not. Stop lying.”

“All right, fine. I’ll miss you having my coffee ready for me every morning,” she mocks, turning around to face me.

“And I will miss all your Internet stalkers.”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “There was only two.”

“I don’t know why you sent them away. I mean, panty-sniffer is probably my favorite.” I cock my head to the side as if I’m really thinking about it. “Or rather, I don’t know. It’s a close tie.”

She makes a gagging noise and turns around, hiding her embarrassment. “I’m never online dating again,” she confesses.

I laugh at how easily it is to make her blush. “Sure, sure. This time next year you’ll be married and pregnant with your second child.”

“That’s hardly possible, Cecilia,” she groans. “I’m going to become an old cat lady instead.”

“Well, hope you’ll have a spare bedroom for me. Most likely we’ll be growing old together with all our damn cats.”

We laugh together at all the bad luck we’ve had in the dating department this year. Not that I’ve really tried or even really wanted to date, but I went on double dates for her sake. Let’s just say I won’t be doing that again.

“I’ll miss you,” I say softly. I spin around and face her. “You’ve been a good friend to me.”

She faces me with her arms spread wide. “No getting emotional,” she teases. “C’mon, let’s hug it out.”

I laugh. “Hug it out? We don’t hug it out. Or get emotional.”

She shrugs, not giving up. “I know. But you can’t be a brick wall forever.”

“I’m not a brick wall,” I counter as she swoops in anyway and squeezes me tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Cecilia. You’re pretty awesome when you wanna be.”

“Thanks.” I laugh, knowing she’s completely honest. I wasn’t exactly the nicest roommate in the beginning. Still reeling from losing Bentley and the news of my dad followed me to college just weeks after I last saw him. But she never gave up on me—she made sure I opened up.

“North Dakota isn’t that far. We could meet up half way, if you wanted,” she offers. “I could take a weekend off.”

“Sounds good.” I smile. “I’m going to look for a job just to get out of the house, so a weekend away already sounds perfect.

*   *   *

What the hell is so significant about ten years?

Ten years.

It explains why my mother kept the note hidden, but was she ever planning to tell us? Was she ever going to let us see what was in the lock box?

It didn’t matter anymore.

Everyone important in my life has left or
walked away.
I have Simon and Cora, but after high school, we all went in different directions. I went to the University of Nebraska—
for real this time
—Cora went to South Florida, and Simon got a full scholarship for some study abroad thing in London. We kept in touch through emails and texts, but it wasn’t the same as being together. I missed my best friends.

I drive home in a haze. I haven’t seen my mother since Christmas. I didn’t bother to come home for Easter since Katelynn wasn’t leaving either. She begged me to stay with her since most of the campus was going to be closed for spring break.

She didn’t have to beg very hard.

My mother and mine’s relationship hasn’t gotten any better, nor have I tried. She holds information about my dad and refuses to tell me—she’s lucky I’m even coming home at all.

The house is empty when I arrive. Go figure. She didn’t even take off the day I was coming home from my first year of college. Not that I should’ve expected her to.

I wheel my suitcases in and look around. Nothing’s changed in the five months since I’ve been here. Everything is always in its proper spot, not a dish out of place.

I decide to take a shower and unpack a few of my things. I put all my clothes in the basket, mentally reminding myself to do laundry later. I walk around my old room, feeling out of place for the first time in my entire life. It was still my room, but why didn’t it feel like mine anymore?

I sit on my bed and reflect over the past year. So much has changed that I’m not even sure I’ve mentally caught up yet.

What a difference twelve months make.

New school. New friends.

New everything.