Tough Enough (Tough Love Book 3)

by Trixie More

  Stomach sour, he put his coffee cup on the counter, trying to decide which mundane, dead-end tasks he needed to do before work. Trying to find a single fiber in his body that actually wanted to work for Doug.

  Tommy was wandering around his bedroom, fiddling with laundry when his cell phone rang. He flipped it over, silencing it, and his sick stomach went from bad to worse. MC. Marco Camisa. He had to try twice before he was able to swipe and answer.

  Tommy didn’t speak after he swiped.

  “Good Morning, Tom.”

  “Marco?”

  “How are you doing, Tom?”

  “Not good. You know that you bastard. I almost got killed, pulling that stunt for you.”

  Marco smacked his lips, the sound dismissive, and Tommy’s stomach gurgled.

  “You lived. Get over it.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I think it’s time I get your friend out of the city. I think he’s distracting people.”

  Tommy sat on his bed. On that, at least, he and Camisa agreed. Doug had probably been distracting the fuck out of that string bean of a prosecutor. His intestines gurgled now, and he clenched his ass.

  Camisa was still rattling away in that revolting Jersey accent of his. “I expect without him around, his girlfriend can return to focusing on her obsession, which will lead her to Doug or...someone else. Either way, neither of us.”

  “I don’t know what you want from me. I did what you wanted. I have the laptop. Our relationship is over.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that. There’s so much evidence that you were involved with the death of a member of law enforcement. I think you need me.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Just an address.”

  Christ, he was going to shit his pants. Tommy stood and started heading toward the bathroom, walking carefully.

  “Whose?”

  “I believe he has a sister he’s fond of.”

  Alice.

  “I don’t have her address.”

  “You do. If it’s not handy, go find it.” Camisa sighed.

  Tommy put the phone on mute, laying it on the sink and dropped his pants.

  He could still hear Camisa talking as his dinner splattered the bowl.

  “You might as well just run this thing for me. You did good in Jersey.”

  His stomach lurched. Tommy leaned over, put his hands on the edge of the tub, he couldn’t reach. He slid off the toilet, on his knees by the tub, and vomited.

  Behind him, he could hear Camisa giving him the details.

  Chapter 27

  Being in the condo felt like wearing a woman’s robe. The yellow and white fussiness was like wearing a flouncy lace collar around his neck—all wrong. The good news was he couldn’t see too much of the room.

  He spoke to his phone. “Play ‘Bad to the Bone.’”

  The sound rose in the apartment, and he felt a bit better.

  “Wanna be yours, pretty baby,” George Thorogood growled. “Bad to the bone.” Doug pushed the volume up, moved to the kitchen. He was thankful he had enough sight to make himself eggs.

  “Wanna tell you, pretty baby, what I see I make my own.” The sound was raucous and old-fashioned, but it helped.

  “I’m bad, too,” Doug said. There was no doubt he wanted to make Sophia his own. Just for a moment, George Thorogood and the Destroyers had him feeling like that might happen.

  Too bad there was a month of Sundays between now and when that might happen.

  He had another bright spot when Robert Palmer came on. The backbeat of “Simply Irresistible” caught him, and he sang along, “She used to look good to me, but now I find her simply irresistible.” The song was so perfect for Sophia, he almost called her and played it. A backlash of sadness hooked him, and he had to turn to classical for the rest of the day.

  Time passed. He spent it peering at his laptop, answering emails, studying the market—taking long breaks when his head felt like it would explode. Work and then rest in the recliner, shut his eyes and replay the best moments of his life. The memories started with walking her out of the subway and ended with her in his bed, her arms wrapped over his shoulders.

  He adjusted himself in the chair, lay his hand on his groin. Beneath his palm, his penis jerked. He didn’t move his hand. There was nothing he could do that would compare with just being inside Sophia, but he ached, and the weight of his own hand eased that.

  Dinner was easily done. He told his phone to call for delivery. There was nothing to fight, nothing to do, and he went to bed early, just honest enough with himself to admit he might never wash the smell of them together out of his sheets. In the darkness, an endless sentence rose before him. Life without her.

  Can you take ten breaths?

  “No,” he said to the empty room.

  Can you take five?

  On his pillow, he shook his head, her pillow pressed to his face.

  One then. One breath, one long inhale.

  He breathed Sophia in, and eventually, his body demanded he exhale.

  Can you do one more?

  He still had Alice. Still had Tommy. Sophia was still alive, and he could spend his life accumulating money and give it all to her.

  “Yes,” he said to the darkness. “Yes, I can.”

  Sophia wasn’t sure if talking to Marley about Doug made sense. Marley was dating Ben, it didn’t seem right to be telling her about her problems with Doug. On the other hand, Marley at least liked Doug. Sophia fiddled with the glasses behind the bar, refilled the cut fruit, and emptied the trash.

  “You wanna job, eh?” The Aussie looked at her from where he leaned his ass next to the cash register. “Maybe I should head out home.”

  “Harris, if you want to sit home and eat Vegemite, be my guest. Don’t leave on my account. I’ll be heading out soon. Soon as I work up my nerve.”

  Harris gazed at her. “For what?”

  “If I told you, I wouldn’t need to work up my nerve,” she said. Saying that just made her waiting more ridiculous. She threw down her bar rag. “You know, you suck the fun out of everything.”

  He just laughed.

  Sophia pushed the little swinging door and headed out from behind the bar. It was only a few steps to Allison’s Kitchen, and then she was there. Marley was alone.

  “Where’s Allie?”

  “She’s home. Zach’s sick, and we only have one job tonight. They’re picking up in an hour. Why?”

  Marley’s eyes were large and worried.

  “Marley, I know you’re seeing Ben.” There, the cat’s out of the bag. “I saw you and Karito coming down the street with him the other day, but more than that, he told me that day you came to see me at the hospital.”

  Marley looked shamefaced. “I’m so sorry, Sophia, I didn’t...” The sentence kind of died there, unfinished. Marley turned away, heading to the oven, pulling out a tray of small hors d’oeuvres.

  “It’s okay. I mean, Ben told me. It’s just—fast, I guess.” Sophia shrugged.

  Marley turned to her. “It’s not as fast as you think.”

  Sophia felt her eyes widen. Surely Ben and Marley hadn’t been cheating on her? “You and Ben?”

  Marley’s expression of horror put Sophia at ease; the woman was clearly aghast.

  “No, for pity’s sake, not while you were with him,” Marley said. “But now, yes.” She paused. “And before you.” She set the tray on the worktable. “It was just one time,” Marley said. “Not even something we planned. Just a...a hookup.”

  Sophia looked around, not sure what to do with that information. She’d known Ben almost her whole life. She’d known Marley since she was old enough to work for her grandparents. Her gaze settled on a stack of peppers. “You want me to slice these?

  “No. I got them,” Marley said.

  There was nothing for it, there was only one question on Sophia’s mind, and she had to ask it. She plunged ahead, even if the new information about Ben and Marley’s one-night stand was
starting to make all kinds of sense.

  “Marley, is Doug Karito’s father?” Sophia asked. “You were about to tell me in the hospital.”

  “Doug? You think I slept with Doug Lloyd?” Marley’s eyebrows winged their way toward her hairline. “Why would you think that?”

  “The red in Karito’s hair, her blue eyes,” Sophia replied. She shouldn’t be double-checking Doug’s story, but she couldn’t resist. A hazard of her career, she supposed.

  “Sophia, I want to tell you who her father is, but now, I can’t. I need to tell him first.”

  “So, he doesn’t know?”

  Marley shook her head. “I can tell you one hundred percent, it isn’t Doug.”

  The understanding Sophia had now shouldn’t hurt, but it did. It burned and roiled. “It’s Ben, isn’t it?”

  Marley stared at her, and Sophia felt the information like a punch. It was true. Marley wasn’t going to tell her, Ben should find out first, of course, but that didn’t change the sadness and anger inside Sophia. Anger she had no right to because Ben didn’t know. Marley...

  “You were never going to tell him, were you?”

  Marley turned away.

  “If we stayed together, you were never going to tell either one of us?” There was a beat of silence. The woman, so like her and yet so enormously different, stood looking at the blank wall of refrigerators, her spine straight, head up. Her hair was tied in a neat bun, covered by a net.

  She works such long hours, Sophia thought. The idea that she had done that and kept quiet was astonishing. Sophia could handle this, she could. If Marley could survive all these years in silence, Sophia could find a way to let the unflattering jealousy and hurt go. After all, she didn’t want to marry Ben. She didn’t want the man; she wanted love. Love, but not from Ben. Marley yanked the stainless steel door open and pulled out a tray of little quiches. By the time she turned around, she’d managed to tamp down whatever had stopped her.

  “Doug is a good man,” Marley said. “I like him very much, and yes, back in the day, I would have let him take me to dinner, buy me flowers, sure. But he never did. I waited on him, and sometimes if my shift was over, I might buy him a drink with his own money and chat with him. He was very good to me, but he’s not Karito’s father. We never slept together.” Marley smiled sadly at her and slid the tiny quiches into the oven. “Is there something else bothering you?”

  Sophia picked at a large roll of plastic wrap. “Where’s the end to this?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” Marley said. “If you fin’ it, lemme know. I need to wrap the rolls.”

  Sophia ran her fingers over the spool, feeling for the end.

  “Doug told me he hurt Ed Walker,” she said.

  Marley stilled. “I don’t believe it.”

  “He doesn’t remember much about it,” Sophia said. “But, he did it.”

  “I don’t believe it,” Marley said again and resumed her work.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Sophia said.

  “About what?” Marley asked.

  Sophia couldn’t believe Marley was this dense. “About turning him in. I’m a prosecutor.”

  “Why do you have to do anything? Walker is the one who has to want to do something.”

  “I have to tell Ed that new evidence came to light.”

  Marley glared at her. “What evidence?” Her mouth turned down, her brown chin raised up, her face the picture of contempt. “What evidence do you have? Words said in bed? Nothing written, nothing but words you heard. Who knows what he said and what you heard?” Marley leaned over the table, grabbing the box of plastic wrap, yanking it toward her. Her long fingers slid over the film and plucked the rumpled end of the wrap free. With a thunk, she yanked the plastic over the cutting bar, brought the long sheet down, and wrapped the bread. “Who can tell if you heard right.”

  Sophia left Allison’s Kitchen, collected her belongs and headed out into the day. She didn’t want to live in the same building with Ben and the hotel was an extravagance. Everything felt - unfinished. So she did the only thing she could think of. She went home.

  She spent the night in her old bedroom, thankful that her mother didn’t have a sentimental bone in her body. Her mother had done away with the pinks and whites of her teenage self before her first semester at college had ended. The room was now a comfortable mix of light woods and taupe, with a bit of animal print thrown in. The bed was new, and the shades blocked every speck of sunlight. The only problem with living there was eating dinner with her parents. Now that they shared the house with just each other, they seemed lost, as if they’d woke from a dream and were surprised to find each other still there.

  That would have been Ben and me, she’d realized. If they’d had children, they would have stayed together, and when the kids left, they would have found themselves adrift. Instead, we’re adrift now. Except, Ben wasn’t adrift. He had Marley, and if what she guessed was right, he had Karito too.

  It was late, and she was exhausted. Marley was right, she didn’t have to say anything about Doug’s confession, but even though they’d been together such a short time, Doug knew her better. She would have to deal with the information in her own way, in a way that she thought was right. There were a lot of things Sophia wasn’t. She wasn’t all that maternal; she wasn’t straight with the men in her life; she wasn’t all that kind, but she was always fair. She always loved justice. She wanted the good guys to be rewarded and the bad guys to pay. Or at least, that’s who she’d always been. He knew that about her. That’s why he wouldn’t marry her, that’s why he made her hear that awful confession.

  Or was it? Maybe he told her all that so she would leave him. Perhaps she was just a one-night stand. Horrible thought, and not true. She could remember him saying that without her, he was already doing a life sentence. No, she believed him. She believed he loved her. She just didn’t believe she could live with herself if she didn’t handle his confession the right way.

  What was the right way? Tell Edward and let him decide? Who else could she tell? If nobody was pressing charges, there was nothing to be done. No, at some point, she’d have to tell Edward Walker at the very least. And then? She was sure he’d press charges, Sophia would have to testify against Doug, and then it would all be over. She might as well start mourning him now. Sophia shut off the light. She could hear William’s voice.

  Loyalty is his defining characteristic, William had said.

  Sophia turned down the bed and climbed in. She had time, nobody needed this information right at this moment. Maybe she had time to give Doug something first, perhaps she could hunt down his money, clear him of George’s murder. Then maybe she could see him one more time before she betrayed him.

  In the morning, he met with a specialist who was able to give him a contact lens prescription. With the new lens, he could see much better; he was able to make out more of the world around him. He wasn’t back to perfect in that eye, but he was able to tell who was heading toward him on the street. The loss of vision in the other eye still meant that his depth perception was off, and his eye grew tired quickly. Light bothered him, and he had headaches, but all in all, he was optimistic. His situation now beat the heck out of where he’d been when he’d first woke up in the hospital.

  On the way home from the doctor’s, enjoying the ability to see the buildings and to navigate confidently, Doug stopped and got a bagel, coffee, and a paper. Then he headed home. Even the yellow walls didn’t bother him today. The bright color matched his mood. The thought made him chuckle, and his first thought was to text Sophia. His second thought was day two of life without Sophia. Fuck yellow.

  By the time his phone rang at noon, he’d already made a couple of solid trades and was feeling a bit better. When his thoughts turned to Sophia, Doug reminded himself that he could care for her the same way he cared for the other people he loved. He could provide funds. He could make sure she wanted for nothing. Inside him though, a voice asked, What about me? He
told his inner child to take a flying fart through a rolling donut. The phone rang again. Despite being a local number, it wasn’t Sophia, so he let it go to voice mail and was surprised to see that the caller actually left a message.

  The voice on the message was low and quiet.

  “Lloyd, you’ll want to answer my call from now on.” There was a brief pause and then he heard a woman’s voice. “Doug, you can’t trust...” Doug’s skin felt like ice. It was Alice’s voice. She gave a shriek and then the man’s voice returned, quiet, deep and hoarse. “I don’t have a lot of patience. Answer your phone next time.”

  What in the hell was going on? His heart pounding, he called the number back.

  “Hello?” The woman’s frail voice told him she was well on in years.

  “This is Doug Lloyd, did you just call me?” He knew the answer before she demurred, her elderly voice quavering in confusion.

  “No...I don’t think so. Who is this?”

  “Sorry, I must have the wrong number,” he said. So the caller ID was spoofed. He’d have to answer every damn call from now on. The next number he dialed was Alice.

  “Hey. This is Alice. Let me know who you are and I’ll decide if I wanna call you back. Bye bye!”

  “Alice, if by any miracle you get this, call me right back. I’m worried sick, so call back.” He hung up. He called each of his sisters and his mother. None of them had any idea where Alice might be. His mother had only one thing to add.

  “When you talk to her, can you ask her to pick me up one of those forty-eight packs of donut shop coffee?” His mother sounded completely unconcerned. “And do you think the money’ll be here on time this month? It’s fine if it’s not, Doug, I know you’ve gone through some hard times. I just kinda wanted to be able to plan.”