The Win: Rebels of Ridgecrest High (Book 4)
The Win: Chapter 8

When I turn up for another interrogation, I stand and wait for Grace away from my mom and George. If I can avoid being near them, I will. There’s a man looking at me from across the room. I would say he’s early forties, dark hair with graying sides. He looks good, older but attractive. But why is he looking at me? I’m not even seventeen yet, and we are in a police station.

When he approaches me, he puts his hand out for me to shake. “Mila Hart, I’m Joe Bulger. I’m here to represent you.”

I look to where my mother’s standing with George and note the confusion on her face. When did I get a new lawyer? I had no idea this was happening. Shit, did Dad take out a loan so I could have a better lawyer?

“Is my dad paying you? He can’t afford you.” I don’t want this man helping me if it means my dad’s going to be in debt.

Roman left last night to go and replace Junior; he said he’s on to something and he’s so close. Hunter’s been helping him with tracking Junior down.

I think it’s just a matter of time before they replace him, and my mom will be behind bars. Because I know she’s the one who killed Malcolm if she was the only other person in the apartment as she keeps telling everyone. And I know I didn’t kill him. It had to be her.

I don’t want to stay at the apartment anymore, if George is working for her . . . which, I think he is. If so, she’s onto me. She will come for me. I don’t think she would bother keeping me alive. She has everything she wants. That’s why I only eat the food that Mary gives me. I wouldn’t put it past my mother to drug me and stage my own suicide.

“I’m here because a friend of yours hired me,” Joe says. “He’s worried about you. But I’m here to fix this all up.”

My mouth drops open. What friend hired this man? Hunter? Does he have the money? Oh shit—Walker. He has this kind of money. Fuck, I can’t let him pay this guy; I bet he charges a thousand per hour. His suit is designer and custom. If this guy’s good, I’ll tell him to stay, and I’ll pay Walker back when I get home. Somehow.

Grace approaches me and smiles. I hope it’s a good smile. One that tells me she believes me, and I’m being set free.

“Come into the room, Mila. We won’t be very long today.” She eyes Joe, and he gestures for me to follow her.

I take a seat, and he take the one beside me and opens his briefcase. There’s a Manila folder in there with my name on it. After taking out his laptop, he closes his briefcase, and before I can even say anything, he turns to Grace.

“I’ve been going over all your files, and I have sent over everything I have gathered on Amber Bradshaw and Malcolm Junior Bradshaw. You will release my client into the custody of her father, and she will return home. All future communication will be through me.”

My mouth drops open yet again. Can he do that? Am I really going home with my dad? Home to the boys? I don’t want to get my hopes up; all my emotions are rolling around deep in my belly.

“I will speak to my boss.” Grace nods and leaves the interview room.

“Do you really think I’ll be able to go home?”

Joe looks at me, his dark gray eyes really seeing me. “You’re a victim, Mila, and I’m here to make sure you go home.”

A lump forms in my throat. That’s the first time someone has called me a victim. I’ve known the whole time that I’m not the killer. I haven’t even been able to grieve for Malcolm. But he’s a victim, just like me, and he didn’t deserve to die.

Grace returns with Officer Holliday, and I roll my eyes. I’m not getting out of here. He made up his mind from the start, and he’s never going to change it.

But he surprises me. He does a double take at the sight of Joe and freezes. I watch as he visibly swallows and shakes his head a little. I’m confused at his reaction to my new lawyer; does he know him? It only takes a moment before Holliday straightens and takes a seat in the room.

“Joe.” He nods my lawyer, his voice different from how he’s been speaking to George. Joe must be a very respected lawyer, and they obviously know each other.

“I presume you received my files on the case. I don’t want to be doing your, job Holliday, but someone has to.”

My mouth drops open, and I could catch flies with how long I’m staring at Joe like that. Holy crap, Joe has balls. He doesn’t even let Holliday answer.

“As you can, see there’s no motive for my client to have killed her stepfather. She gains nothing. She’s never gained anything from that woman who calls herself her mother. She’s a victim in all of this, and she’s going to be released into the custody of her father. And he will be granted full custody.”

He stops talking, but no one says a word.

So, Joe continues. “You can ask your final questions now while I’m present. All future questions will come through me. You may start.”

Joe waves his hand at Holliday, and I’m stunned to silence. I think Holliday is too. He’s looking everywhere but at Joe, like he doesn’t want to be in the same room as him.

I look back and forth between the two men, and that’s when I see it. Holliday has been coming in here and verbally attacking me, making himself look bigger than he really is by being a bully.

Joe comes in here and tells him how it is. He has that big dick energy, and there’s only one other person I know who has that kind of power to shut someone up so decisively.

I don’t need to ask who sent Joe to me. I’ve figured that out on my own.

Fuck, this guy works for the mob.

“Are you aware that Malcolm had a vasectomy? Meaning, he didn’t want to have any more children.”

I shake my head at Grace. It would be a little weird if Malcolm had told he’d had a vasectomy. But I know my mom really wanted to have a kid with him, so I’m assuming she knew. She would have had to know . . . right? They were trying.

“No.” It was kind of gross talking about my stepfather’s balls.

“Do you believe Malcolm asked you to return home to tell you that he was divorcing your mother?”

“Yes.”

These are all questions I’d asked them for the past month, but with Joe here, they were finally taking me seriously.

“Do you believe your mother had an affair which resulted in a pregnancy?”

“I don’t know.”

“We have some test results here that show the baby is not Malcolm’s.”

My fingers rise to my parted lips. I can’t believe she had an affair. No, I can. She did it to my dad. But Malcolm was everything she wanted; he had the money and the connections. She could buy anything she wanted, travel anywhere in the world. I wonder if she knew he’d a vasectomy?

“Do you know who the father is?” I ask.

They probably don’t. I wonder if it’s someone with money. I bet it is. But if so, why didn’t she just get divorced and marry this other person? Unless he’s already married. I don’t know if any of the couples we used to see at events were ever really happy. Pretty sure all of them were having affairs.

The officers shuffle some papers around, and Joe points to several. He must have found all this. What have the cops been doing? And how long has he been working to get me out of here?

“Yes, and we now understand what really happened that night you came home.”

I hate how they keep calling it home. New York has never been my home; that apartment has been nothing but a prison. But I’m glad that, after today, I’ll finally be going back home. My real home.

“Can I ask who it is? The father. If you know.”

Grace clears her throat and places the paperwork on the table. It makes me nervous when the whole room grows serious. Who could the father be? They would need his DNA to match against. Is it a criminal? The president? The way they are acting is kind of scaring me.

“Malcolm Bradshaw . . . Junior.”

What. The. Fuck!