Gone - Part One (9 page)

He leans against the desk, his voice a harsh whisper. "Your employment contract gives me unlimited access to any computer you own."

My gaze narrows as I feel a dull pit forming in my stomach. "I have the files for the app on my laptop. I've never brought it to the office."

His jaw tightens. "I was visiting Rebecca on Saturday while you were here with Jordan. I accessed the files then."

My eyes close as I take in a deep breath. It's why he wanted me to live with her. He hasn't trusted my motives since he walked into Star Bistro weeks ago. I shudder as I think about all the information I've stored on my laptop. I feel exposed in a way I've never before.

"I saw the schematics for the app. It's brilliant. You want to give donor families the chance to connect with the recipients of the harvested organs. I found the framework and I read your testing files," he spits the words out violently at me. "You even used the control sequence of a teenage woman as the donor. I thought you were smarter than that."

I push my head back as I let out a single, solitary breath. "You ordered me down here to go over your security files so you could violate me."

"Violate you?" He doesn't even try to suppress the chuckle that escapes his lips. "I had a right to see those files. I knew you weren't being honest with me. I had Bruce run a background check on you yesterday. You didn't exist until you enrolled in MIT."

The actions sting more than his words. After the intimacy we've shared and the promises he's made to me, the fact that he still doesn’t trust me rips through me with the force of a jagged knife. "I can't believe you went behind my back to rummage through my personal computer."

His hands jump to his hips. "I can't believe you'd use someone else's pain to make a profit."

"That's not what I'm doing." I push my hand against the arm of the couch to find the strength to pull myself up. I have absolutely no faith that my legs will support me right now. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"The information on your computer is cut and dry." He clenches his right hand into a fist and slams it against the edge of his desk. "I saw what you're doing with my own two eyes. You haven't been truthful with me. You wanted a position here so you can use my contacts to launch your app and you wanted my sister's name attached to it for all the sympathy it's going to bring."

It's a concept that might have some merit if my own past wasn't more tragic than his. "That's honestly how you see me? You think I'm capable of that?"

"I don't think you're capable of it." His hand leaps to my chin. "I know you are. I saw the proof myself."

I push against his chest to free myself of his touch. The same hand that falls from my face is the one that stroked my cheek and brought my pleasure. So much has changed so quickly. "I quit."

"If you think you're walking away with those files, you're going to have a fight on your hands, Lilly Randall," he hisses the words at me. "I'm going to sue you."

"It's not Randall." I look directly into his eyes. "My name isn't Lilly Randall."

"What?"

"It's Lilly Vanderwelle." I yank my jacket into my hand before I brush past him to move towards the door of his office.

"Wait." He reaches for my arm but I'm beyond his grasp. "I've heard that name before."

"I'm not surprised." I turn as I twist the door handle in my palm.

"In the paper." His eyes are instantly alert and locked on my face. "On the news. I remember the name was everywhere."

"Yes, everywhere," I repeat back. It had been everywhere. Every major newspaper in the country had splashed the headline across their front page.

His expression is impassive as he pushes for more. "What was it? Goddammit, you tell me what the fuck is going on. Why are you using a fake name to work here?"

I cast my gaze down trying to find a way to calm my overwrought emotions. "It's actually very simple, Mr. Parker."

"Tell me." His hand waves in the air as if to spur me on.

I spit out the words one-by-one trying to detach myself from them. "Six years ago my father came home from a graveyard shift at the factory he worked at. He walked into the room my two younger brothers shared and shot them both at point blank range. Then he came into the room I was in with my older sister. He shot her before he turned the gun on me." I rub my hand over the scar on the back of my neck, closing my eyes as I recall the sounds and smells of that moment. "My mother was last before he pushed the gun into his throat and pulled the trigger."

"Christ, Lilly." His voice cracks but I can't bring myself to look at his face.

"I was the only survivor." I bite my lip to try and ward off the onslaught of tears that always rips through me when I think of my family. "My mother's heart is inside a stranger's body. My four-year-old brother's liver saved a young woman's life. My sister's cornea gave someone their sight back and everyone I've ever loved is gone."

I don't hear anything he's saying as I pull open the door, walk through and don't look back.

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Deborah Bladon has never read a romance hero she didn't like. Her love for romance novels began when she was old enough to board the bus, library card in hand to check out the newest Harlequin paperbacks. She's a Canadian by heart, and by passport, but you can often spot her in New York City sipping a latte and looking for inspiration for her next story. Manhattan is definitely her second home.

She cherishes her family and believes that each day is a gift for writing, for reading, and for loving.