Author: Allison Brennan
Category: Suspense
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/allison-brennan/page,9,90279-the_lost_girls.html
But not now. Not when he was shy of eighteen, expelled from Stanford, and on three years’ probation.
He would never forgive Duke for cutting this deal.
Madison started crying. Sean ached—he didn’t want to hurt her. He hugged her tightly. “Hey, I’ll visit.”
“You know it’s not the same. You’ll be there, I’ll be here—it’s over, Sean.”
He’d known it would be, but it still stung. “Maddie, don’t say that—”
She jumped up. She couldn’t look at him. “I love you, Sean. But it’s over.”
His heart stopped. Love? She loved him? Oh, God, he’d really hurt her. He never wanted to hurt anyone, especially Maddie.
“Maddie—”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it, because you won’t mean it.”
He wasn’t going to say it. He liked Madison a lot, he cared about her, but love? He was seventeen. His life was fucked up. He was moving to Massachusetts. Love? Really? He didn’t even like himself half the time, how could he love anyone else?
“Let’s just see how it goes, okay?” he said. “You don’t know that we can’t make this work.”
“Good-bye, Sean.”
“Maddie—don’t leave like this.”
She left.
He didn’t go after her.
* * *
Sean hadn’t seen Madison since that Sunday afternoon. Until now. Almost thirteen years later to the day.
CHAPTER NINE
What the hell was Madison McAllister doing on his doorstep?
The bell rang again, forcing Sean to his feet. He strode out of his den and opened the front door.
“Madison.”
She smiled at him, a perfect smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Madison McAllister had been unattainable. He’d thought … well, what had he thought? He’d been two weeks shy of his eighteenth birthday when he was expelled; Madison was two years older. They’d had fun, which was all he’d wanted at the time. It was all she wanted. That was a lifetime ago.
“I should have called first, but I wasn’t certain you’d speak to me.”
“How did you get my address?”
“I can be persuasive.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“May I come in?”
He hesitated, just a fraction. She sensed his indecision and said, “I would never have flown out here if it wasn’t an emergency. I need your help, Sean. You’re the only one who can help. You’re the only person I can trust.”
A bit melodramatic, but his curiosity was piqued. He had cared for Madison once upon a time. They’d spent the better part of his freshman year together. She’d been a sophomore when they’d met in a French literature class. Sean hated French, but it was better than the alternative language requirement. Madison loved French. It was the only class Sean had ever struggled in, but he’d ended up with a B largely because of Madison.
“Come in,” he said.
She looked around, her back to him. “You have a lovely home.”
“Yes, we do.”
She was surprised. “You’re married?”
“Almost.” He closed the door behind her.
When she turned to face him, tears leaked from her eyes. He hated seeing tears; it always hit him in the gut. The last time he’d seen Madison she’d been crying, too.
“My husband is in trouble—but I wouldn’t come to you if it was just about Carson. It’s my son, Jesse. I didn’t want Carson to take him to Mexico—I told him no, it’s the beginning of the school year. But he talked me into it, said he’d only miss one day of school. They flew down Thursday afternoon. He promised me they’d be back Sunday.”
“Yesterday?”
She nodded.
“And he wasn’t.”
“I called Saturday because he didn’t tell me what flight he’d be on, but he didn’t answer. An hour later he forwarded me his itinerary. They were supposed to be in at eleven fifty Sunday morning. They weren’t on the plane! And the airport said they never boarded. I tried calling, no answer. I haven’t spoken to him or Jesse in forty-eight hours. Jesse’s phone goes straight to voice mail. I’m terrified.”
Madison was panicking. Sean steered her to the living room and she sat on the couch. Though she was dressed impeccably, with perfect clothes and makeup, she was playing with her fingers, twisting them around. Her fingernail polish had been nearly all scraped off, and all of the nails had been bitten to the quick.
“They may have lost their phones,” Sean said. “And I won’t lie to you—Mexico can be very dangerous. Depending where they are, they could have had their luggage stolen, or been pickpocketed; Carson could have lost his wallet.”
She was shaking her head. “I called the resort and they would not tell me whether they were registered! Said it was against policy, but I’m his wife! I flew down to Acapulco and finally the manager told me the truth—they’d checked out on Saturday. Saturday. Not Sunday. I’ve been calling and calling and sending emails and…” She took a deep breath and reached for Sean, squeezed his hand. “Sean, I called Carson’s employer. He works for a start-up in Orange County. They said he’d taken vacation time. That he wasn’t in Mexico for their business. I didn’t know what to do. I know your family rescues h-h-hostages.”
“Stop. You don’t know what’s happened, do not assume the worst. Did Duke give you my address?”
Why would his brother just share that information? And not tell Sean about it?
She shook her head. “I called Quentin. Told him I wanted to mail you some pictures I’d found, asked if he had your current address.”
Of course Quentin would give it out. The guy was as honest as the day is long and the least suspicious person Sean had ever met. He was the only friend from Stanford that Sean had kept in touch with, they’d worked on some computer systems together—he’d even invited him to the wedding.
Sean was going to have a talk with him. He worked for one of the biggest computer gaming companies in Seattle. He should be more security-conscious.
“Madison, you don’t know—”
“Yes, I do. Something is wrong and I need you to find them.”
The last thing Sean wanted to do was go to Mexico to find his ex-girlfriend’s husband and son. Yet … they could be in trouble. Kane was itching for work. If this job seemed tame enough, Sean could ask Kane to do it. But he needed more information.
“How is your marriage? Are you separated? Divorcing? Any reason for Carson to leave the country with your son?”
All standard questions Sean would ask any potential client—even if he had no intention of taking the job. Kane would ask him, and he needed the answers.
“No, we’re fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! I’m positive.”
“Why are you coming to me? Your father can hire the best PI in the business.”
“Rogan-Caruso is the best.”
That was certainly true, but Ronald McAllister hated Sean, and he would never let her hire RCK. Still, there were a couple of other firms RCK could refer her to.
“Truthfully, if it’s a kidnapping, you need to talk to my brother Kane. He works south of the border. The best way to reach him is through JT Caruso. I’ll call him for you, but I don’t work for RCK anymore.”
Her lip quivered. “But I need you.”
“Madison, this just isn’t something I can do.” He wasn’t going to work for his ex-girlfriend six weeks before his wedding. Not only because it was awkward, but because he had a wedding to organize. And a honeymoon. He wanted—needed—to be home at night for Lucy, especially when she was working a difficult case like the one in Laredo.
Madison scraped off the last of the nail polish on her left thumb. “I think Carson got involved in something he can’t get out of, and now my son is in the middle of it. I’ll die if anything happens to him.”
Against Sean’s better judgment, he asked, “What exactly did your husband get involved in?�
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She knew, he could see it in the way she avoided looking him in the eye.
“Madison, you need to be completely honest with me.”
She stood up and paced. Madison had always been a beautiful woman—the kind of beauty that was graceful, classic, almost like a porcelain doll. Age had improved her.
But he also knew her tells, the way she avoided his gaze, the way she wrung her hands, the scraping of the polish, so discreet, as if no one would notice.
She had a secret and she didn’t want to tell him.
Sean walked to the door. He didn’t have time for games. “I’m sorry you came all this way, but we’re through.”
She spun around, a flash of anger in her vivid green eyes. “Do you think this was easy for me? Coming here, asking for your help?”
“Then why did you?”
She tilted her chin up. “Carson is a lawyer for a start-up. But he made some bad investments a few years ago and refused to go to my father to bail him out. He has a strong sense of pride—a lot like you, Sean.”
That grated. Their breakup had been more or less mutual—he’d been expelled, after all, and moving cross-country. Long-distance relationships rarely worked, especially not as teenagers. And then there was his anger—that Madison’s father had forbidden her to see him and they snuck around, that he’d been expelled in the first place even though he’d done the right thing, that his brother Duke had made an agreement Sean didn’t want to sign, but had no choice because he was still a minor and Duke was his legal guardian. Sean had a lot of anger buried under his happy-go-lucky, partying lifestyle.
“Don’t compare me to your husband, Madison.”
“He took a freelance accounting job—before he went to law school, he was an accountant. He didn’t lie to me—he told me he was going to Mexico on business. I just think it wasn’t for the start-up—it was for this other business.”
“What other business?”
“I don’t know! I’m telling you the truth, Sean. I never asked. Maybe—I didn’t want to know. Carson is a good man, but over the last couple years he’s become sullen. We had more money than ever before, but it didn’t seem to make him happy.”
“Money doesn’t make anyone happy.”
“You don’t understand!”
“I understand a lot more than you think. He’s a lawyer and an accountant. Freelance? He was laundering money for someone. It’s as clear as day.”
“No.”
But there was no venom in her voice. She’d thought the same thing.
Sean rubbed his face with both hands. He didn’t want to turn Madison away, but he couldn’t be involved with this bullshit.
He said, “Put together everything you know about Carson’s travel plans, his businesses—legitimate and illegitmate. We’ll need a recent photo, passport numbers, phone numbers, credit cards, bank accounts. I’ll make you a list. We’ll get on a conference call with JT tonight and he’ll put together a team to find Carson and Jesse.”
“So you will do it.” She sighed in relief. “Thank you, Sean.”
“No, I’m not touching this.” Of course she didn’t understand; Madison McAllister always got her way. But there was no way he could go to Mexico now. “I’m getting married next month, I don’t have time. But I’ll help you with the details. JT and Kane are far more capable of handling something like this anyway. Kane has rescued hundreds of Americans, those who were in danger and those who just didn’t want to come home and face the music. And I’m only helping because there’s an innocent child at risk. I couldn’t care less what happens to your husband, Madison. He made his own bed. That he dragged his kid into the mess makes him ten times worse.”
“He couldn’t have known that something might happen—he wouldn’t do that to Jesse.”
Sean shook his head. “Get your head out of the sand, Madison.”
“I need you on this. Only you care enough.”
“Maddie, I’m sorry, but believe me when I tell you that my brother is just as good as me. Better, in situations like this.”
She opened her purse and took out her phone. She stared at the screen, then walked over to Sean and showed him a photo. “This is Jesse.”
Sean stared at the image. The boy was older than Sean had thought he’d be. Older … and he knew. As soon as he looked into Jesse’s deep-blue eyes, he knew.
He couldn’t speak. His hand began to shake. Jesse had dark-blond hair, darker than his mother. He had his mother’s smile.
But he had Sean’s eyes. The same color, the same shape. And if that didn’t convince him that Jesse was in fact his son, the dimples did. Madison’s smile, but Sean’s dimples, one side deeper than the other.
He didn’t need to ask her if Jesse was his son; he could see it in the boy’s face. That’s why she’d come to Sean.
He could hardly speak. Waves of anger and sorrow and a cold disbelief washed over him. “How dare you.” His voice was barely a whisper. “How dare you keep this from me.” He’d scream if he didn’t control his growing rage.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
“A choice? He’s mine.”
“He’s my son.”
He stared at her, took a step forward. She stepped backward.
“You—you didn’t give me a chance,” he said. “Do you think so little of me that you thought I would have walked away from my responsibility? From my own child?” Now he was shouting. He had to get these emotions under control. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything except feel a deep loss.
You have a son who doesn’t know who you are.
“I wasn’t going to be a responsibility. We were young, we were stupid, I didn’t even know I was pregnant until the night you told me you were going to MIT. Do you actually think we could have been parents together?”
“Yes!”
“What, you would have married me?”
“I wasn’t impoverished, Madison. I’ve done well.”
“We didn’t love each other.”
“So you lied to me?”
“You didn’t love me. I knew it that night when you told me you were leaving.”
“I never lied to you. I cared about you, and I would have done everything for you and our baby. Dammit, Madison! You should have told me! I should have been a part of Jesse’s life from the beginning!”
“And you would have what? Dropped out of college? Worked where? Done what? Resented me and Jesse because we forced you into marriage?”
“You have no idea what would have happened then because you didn’t give me a chance.” His voice cracked. He swallowed; his mouth was dry as sand.
“Because you are known for making smart decisions. Like embarrassing the university and the FBI when you hacked into their database.”
“I had a right to know. He’s my kid. My son. And you had no right to keep him from me. No right!” He was repeating himself but he didn’t care.
“I had every right. It was my choice to have him, I didn’t ask you for anything. No money, no child support—”
“That has nothing to do with it! I would have supported him. You know that!”
“I didn’t need you.”
Sean felt like his heart had been turned inside out. He wanted to slap her. He’d never wanted to hit a woman so badly as right now. He backed away, overcome by the intensity of his emotions.
“That came out wrong,” she said.
He didn’t respond. He couldn’t even look at her.
“Sean—my father—you know how he is.” Her voice was softer. Through his overwhelming emotions, he knew she was manipulating him. Trying to calm him down. Trying to get him to do what she wanted. “You’d been expelled. It … tainted you. Us. I didn’t want it to come back on my son.”
He didn’t regret his decision, but it had come back to bite him in the ass so many times that he was beginning to wonder if he should have just turned his back on the pedophile.
Of course, that wasn’t the issue—the issue was how he’d exp
osed the bastard. He’d embarrassed the university and law enforcement. In hindsight, there were other ways to yield the same result. But at the time … he liked to prove how much smarter he was than everyone else. He was a teenager. A showman. A genius with too much anger and the need to prove himself to … to everyone.
He didn’t have anything to prove to anyone anymore.
“I was weak, Sean. I couldn’t go against my father.”
That he believed. Ron McAllister was a narrow-minded bastard who had never thought Sean was good enough for Madison. They were kids, they should have been going out and having fun, but it was as if Sean were always on trial for something. It didn’t matter that Sean started college early, that he had a genius-level IQ or had made six figures designing a top video game before he’d turned eighteen. All that mattered was that he didn’t come from a “good” family, that he had gotten in trouble as a kid. Trouble? No one knew the half of it. The three years after his parents died … Sean could have killed himself a dozen times over. That he didn’t was a miracle—and Sean didn’t believe in miracles.
“Forgive me, Sean.”
“No. No way in hell am I ever going to forgive you, Madison.”
He turned to face her. Silent tears ran down her face, but they had no impact on him.
“Please. Sean. I can’t lose my son. I don’t have anyone else to turn to.”
“I can’t believe you kept me from knowing my son. He’s twelve years old. Twelve. I lost out on twelve years. Does he even know I’m his father?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “I—I told him I didn’t know.”
“Am I on his birth certificate?”
Again, she shook her head.
Sean didn’t think he could feel any worse, but he did. His son—his child—out there, not knowing him, not knowing his heritage, who his father was, what he was made of. A blank line on a birth certificate. How could Madison have done that? How could she have done such a thing to Sean? To her own son?
Instead of hitting Madison, Sean swung out and knocked over a decorative vase. It shattered on the tile floor. He stared at the pieces of glass. He and Lucy had gone to a craft fair one Sunday afternoon and bought the handblown vase. It didn’t really match the house, but they both loved it. Like his heart, it was broken.