by LK Shaw
“There’s nothing wrong. I just don’t feel like playing the game.”
Something inside me said I might be done playing it for good, in fact.
Randall bristled. “Since when?”
I thought of all the women I’d practiced on. All the women who’d fallen into my bed. I couldn’t recall a single name or face. They’d all become one giant blur. A wave of guilt washed over me. I shrugged. “Since now, I guess.”
His expression darkened even further. “Some woman has you by the balls, doesn’t she?” He continued, not waiting for an answer. “I knew there was something going on the last time we talked. You were distracted then, and tonight you haven’t even bothered trying to talk to that other chick.”
“Her name is Darcy,” I said irritably.
“Who cares what her name is?” he growled.
That was the sad truth. He didn’t care. Before the last few weeks, I wouldn’t have cared what her name was either. I was exactly like my father, and for the first time in my life I was ashamed of that. It didn’t mean that I couldn’t change. That I didn’t want to change.
“I care, actually,” I said.
“You sound awfully judgmental.” His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start getting all holier than thou now that you have some piece of ass you think is ‘the one’. You won’t be able to give her what she wants, and she’ll leave you just like your mother did. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
My fists clenched, and my jaw creaked from grinding my teeth. Maybe I was being judgmental. Or maybe, for the first time, I was seeing things clearly, and I didn’t like myself very much. I wanted to be different. Better. I didn’t want to be nearly sixty and still hanging out at the bar picking up women a third my age.
“Is that why mom left? Because you didn’t give her what she wanted?” I shook my head. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter anymore. I think it’s probably best if I go.”
My father looked down his nose at me. “Yes, you probably should.”
It didn’t surprise me that he agreed. I turned to leave just as the two women came toward us. Without a goodbye, my father’s attention was immediately on them, and he began to use his charm to reel them back in. His order for another round was the last thing I heard before moving out of ear shot and out the front door.
I’d spend more time later dwelling on this sudden change in our relationship, and probably mourn it, but in the meantime I was glad it happened.
Chapter 18
Never, in a million years, did I ever think that working in a stinky, testosterone filled gym would be the best thing to ever happen to me. Talking to Yvonne helped as well. She’d become one of my biggest cheerleaders and closest confidante. There was still that boundary of professionalism between us, but she definitely knew more about me than almost anyone, even Shan.
Neither Sam nor Oliver had lied when they’d said I’d be working hard. It didn’t matter that I only worked four hours a day. There was enough work to last me at least six to seven hours, especially as more responsibilities were added to my growing list. I loved it though.
My short, fifteen-minute breaks were most often spent watching men fight and sometimes, on Tuesdays, I’d stop and watch Sam teach a beginner’s class. Yvonne kept trying to teach me how to manage my anger in appropriate ways, and I figured punching a bag for hours on end would be a good way to get rid of some frustration and rage. After I returned to the shelter after work, I tried mimicking some of the moves I’d seen. My reflection showed that I definitely needed to work on my form and that I wasn’t quite as adept as I thought.
“¡Hola, Maria!” I greeted her before settling into my seat opposite her on the train.
“¡Hola, cariño!” She smiled warmly.
We’d developed a nice easy friendship during my commutes to work. I didn’t see her every day, but at least three times per week. We talked about books we’d read, the new places she’d visited, her life back in Mexico before moving here, and I shared my favorite things to do in the city. I’d even talked to her about Oliver. A couple of times I helped her back to her apartment building with her belongings before hauling ass to the gym.
“How is the fighting coming along?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“I haven’t officially started yet, but I’m planning on talking to my boss today. I practice at the shelter, but that’s not going very well, I’m afraid. I swear I’m hopelessly uncoordinated. I trip over my own feet, when I’m supposed to be bouncing lightly to keep from getting stuck in one spot. I even lost my balance taking a swing once, and nearly fell flat on my face.” I slunk down in my seat, pouting. Boxing was a lot harder than it looked. I was determined to get Sam to teach me.
Maria flash me a look of sympathy. “I am sorry you are struggling. You will get it soon. I have a strong feeling about this.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence.”
“It is all about having faith in yourself,” she said. “Let me tell you a story about a young girl I once knew. Her parents were long dead, and she had been raised by several loving servants. They tried to shelter her as much as possible, but they could not protect her against what was coming.”
I sat up in my seat, intrigued.
“It was the night of her fourteenth birthday party. She did not have any friends, so it was only her and the servants. The young girl had always been fascinated with American birthday parties so she had begged for a birthday cake with candles she could blow out. No sooner had they gone out than a loud crash came from the other room.” Maria paused for a moment, her eyes closed, and her entire expression shifted as though she could hear the crash happening.
I scooted to the edge of my seat, leaning toward her, not wanting to miss a single word. She seemed to shake off whatever spell she was under, because her eyes opened, and she continued.
“A man stepped into the room, surrounded by armed soldiers, demanding that the girl come with him. He was, apparently, her older brother, and she was to be given to one of his business associates as a bride.”
I couldn’t hold back my gasp of horror. Fourteen? She was just a child. “Oh my god, that’s awful.”
Maria’s eyes met mine, and there was a sheen of wetness she blinked away. “Yes, it is.”
“What happened then?” I asked, praying that someone came and saved this poor girl.
“For many years the girl’s life was hell, but she was strong. She swore one day she would get her revenge. All she had to do was have faith in herself.”
“Did she get her revenge?”
Her expression shifted into one of satisfaction. “She most certainly did.”
After my shift, I went in search of Sam. I found him up front, observing a couple teenage boys going against each other inside the main ring. A crowd of other kids lined the perimeter, their eyes also on the fight inside, each cheering when their favored opponent landed a strike. They were loud and boisterous and enjoying the match.
I remained within the cluster of kids, absorbing each move the two above me made, trying to spot a weakness in either of them. I caught it within a few minutes and wondered how long it would take the other guy to notice. The shorter young man had a tendency to leave his left flank unprotected. Sam preached over and over to his students to keep their elbows in tight. This guy’s arms were all over the place.
The taller of the two must have seen his opening, because out of nowhere, he threw a left hook and slammed his gloved hand straight into the side of the other kid, who doubled over in pain. He gasped for breath, clutching his body.
“All right everyone, take a break,” Sam called out before climbing into the ring with the two boys. The crowd dispersed, reluctantly going back to their own workouts, while I remained standing there, watching the lesson being given inside. The teenagers eventually tapped gloves twice, once on top and once on bottom, before removing their equipment and exiting the ring, the smaller one moving at a much slower pace.
Sam climbed down, pausi
ng for a moment when his eyes landed on me. “I thought you’d gone home for the day?”
I shook my head. “I got distracted by the fight. My guess is the shorter one is going to learn to keep his elbows in tight and protect his side and liver a little better the next time.”
My boss seemed to be impressed at my knowledge. “Looks like someone’s been paying extra attention.”
“That, and I’ve been reading some books I got from the library,” I said.
“Any particular reason?” Sam studied me.
“I want to learn how to fight. I’ve been trying to find healthy ways to release a lot of the anger I tend to hold inside. Most of my rage stems from being a victim my whole life. I want to change that. I don’t want to be a victim anymore, and I don’t want to always be so angry.”
He didn’t know my history, recent or otherwise, but the look he sent me was full of understanding.
“We can probably work something out.”
A giddy sense of excitement washed over me, and I bounced on my feet. “Thank you, Sam.”
“Don’t thank you me yet. I’m an even tougher instructor than I am a boss. You may regret wanting me to teach you.”
I shook my head. “No way. I’ve seen you during your classes. You’re patient and fair.”
“I’m glad someone thinks so.” He chuckled. “You may be singing a different tune after a few classes though. Why don’t you come in an hour early tomorrow, and when the beginner class starts, you can take an hour break and join in?”
My eyes widened, and I clapped my hands together. “Really?”
“If you’re serious about learning.”
“Oh, thank you, Sam. I can’t wait.”
He shooed me away. “Now, go home and get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I waved over my shoulder, unable to stop smiling. I still had a smile on my face when I got off the train at my stop. I’m sure all the people who’d been riding in the same car thought there was something wrong with me, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t wait to learn how to fight. It felt like I was taking one more step toward becoming the strong person Yvonne kept trying to convince me that I already was.
The sun was beginning to fall in the sky. This was the latest I’d gotten off work since starting at Franklin’s. I made my way down the street toward the shelter. It was less than a mile from the train stop on a busy road, so there was always traffic moving.
It wasn’t unusual to see quite a few people walking around as well. I was about a block from the shelter when a car laid on its horn scaring the shit out of me. I automatically stopped and turned my head in the direction of the noise.
I resumed walking, my eyes still on the two driver’s yelling and cursing at each other, except after two steps I collided with someone. I bounced off the body with a groan.
“I’m so sor—” The word dried up in my mouth and the blood in my veins froze. I couldn’t move. Oh god. My whole body started to shake. Move, Charity. “Sorry. Excuse me.”
With my head down, I swept my hair over my shoulder trying to cover my face, and moved around the man. One foot in front of the other. Keep going. I concentrated on my steps, my eyes on the ground, my ears straining for the sound of footsteps behind me. My heart raced, and I tried to control my breathing.
Taking far longer than it should considering how close I’d been, the shelter came into view. Before heading up the forecourt, I looked over my shoulder. Please be gone. Please be gone. The man I’d run into—the one wearing the yellow and black of Los Lobos—remained standing in the same spot, his eyes locked directly on me.
Chapter 19
“Everyone shut your damn mouths.” A fist slammed down on top of the podium at the front of the room where Captain Barnes stood with a beet red face and those veins on each side of his temple throbbing. Shit, that wasn’t good. It was bad enough when one of them beat at a frantic pace, but we all knew something explosive was going down when they both pulsed out of control.
Voices lowered throughout the room until finally everyone was silent and staring at Cap waiting for whatever crisis he was about to announce.
“We have a situation,” he began. “Several weeks ago we raided a location on South Spaulding Avenue. Tens of millions of dollars worth of drugs were confiscated along with cash and weapons. As most of you know, we also discovered a sex trafficking operation in the basement. Six women were found, one deceased from a heroine overdose. I just received news that two of the surviving women have been found dead over the last week, both victims of allegedly random crimes.”
The blood froze in my veins at Cap’s announcement and for a split second my vision went dark. Pablo went rigid next to me. We’d been on that raid together, and he’d seen the condition of those women.
“The first victim, Sandra Cunningham, age twenty-four, was found shot to death outside a home on West 19th on the morning of September 24th. Her wallet was found inside her purse with cash still accounted for and nothing else appeared to be missing.” He glanced down at the podium top where he always placed his notes before returning his eyes to those of us in the room. His gaze panned slowly to and fro making eye contact with every single person, drilling into us how important this was.
“The second victim, Naomi Vance, age twenty-two, was found yesterday afternoon inside a dumpster in the alley behind Club Neon. The M.E. on scene suspects asphyxiation as the cause of death based on ligature marks around the girl’s neck, but he can’t confirm until a complete autopsy is performed this afternoon.”
Mother fucker. It can’t be a coincidence.
“What do we know about the other three?” I called out.
Cap’s flinty stare landed on me. “We’ve got patrols on two of them, but the third seems to have disappeared. She left the hospital with no forwarding address. I spoke with the officer who took her statement and the information she gave him leads to a dead end. Basically, she’s gone completely off-grid. If we can’t find her, then there isn’t much we can do for her.”
A tingling sensation began at the back of my neck. “What’s the missing vic’s name?”
Cap consulted his paperwork, but it didn’t matter, because I already had my answer. His finger glided along the sheet in front of him as he searched for the name, then it stopped.
“Charity Yates,” he read aloud.
“Fuck,” I mumbled beneath my breath. Pablo’s head turned in my direction, but thankfully he remained quiet. I was glad Spencer wasn’t in the room.
Cap continued discussing the other two women and what measures were being taken for them and once he was finished, the room slowly cleared out. I remained sitting in my chair, my palms nearly chafed raw from the constant rubbing up and down the scruff along my jaw.
“What do you know about the missing woman, Oliver?”
I glanced over at Pablo, who’d stayed behind as well. Not sure it was a good idea to let him in on things considering his newly arrived stance on following the rules, I didn’t answer right away.
“Oliver,” he grumbled.
Sitting back in my chair, I heaved out a breath and told him everything. “Do you remember the day after the raid when some woman showed up out front asking for me?”
His eyes darted back and forth, not focused on anything, as though trying to recall the memory. “Vaguely. I mean, it was almost a month ago.” He shrugged helplessly, but then his eyes widened. “Wait, that was right about the time you took a couple days off. I’d been surprised, because you never take time off. And definitely not right after a huge bust like that.”
I nodded. “That woman was Charity Yates. She came here straight from the hospital with this weird notion that I was going to keep her safe. Kept telling me that she trusted me. Said she had nowhere else to go. I had no idea what the fuck to do with her so I took her home.”
Pablo ran his hand over his face. “Christ, Oliver. What the hell were you thinking?”
“She was desperate, and I panicked. I didn’t know what else
to do. Nothing happened. She took a shower, I gave her some clothes, something to eat, and then I took her to Brenda’s House.”
He stared at me, his brow crinkled in confusion. “The homeless shelter?”
“That’s where she said she’d been living for the last two years. I dropped her off, checked in on her a few days later when she basically told me to get lost. A friend of hers who volunteers at the shelter called me, and I got Charity hooked up with Yvonne Spencer. I also put her in touch with a friend of mine who ended up hiring her. I’ve only spoken to her a few times since the raid.”
Pablo dropped back into the chair next to me. “Is she still at Brenda’s House?”
“I believe so,” I said.
He was silent for a moment, but I could tell he was thinking about something. “Do you think Los Lobos is the one behind the death’s of those women?”
“It’s way too much of a coincidence for it not to be.”
“While you were undercover, did you hear anything about them having a cop on their payroll?” Pablo asked. “Is it possible that someone on the force gave them the location of the victims?”
Fuck. I sat back in my chair and rubbed my hands up and down my face. “Of course it’s possible. Your brother’s ex-partner was working for the Juarez Cartel, wasn’t he? There have been rumors of cops working for Salazar as well. It’s probably safe to assume that at least one person is on the take for Los Lobos. They could have tapped into the database from anywhere in the city to get the info.”
Narcotics was a smaller unit compared to some of the others, and we didn’t frequently interact with other departments, except homicide. There were almost twenty-five police districts in Chicago. We didn’t know everyone who worked for them all. It was impossible to.
“Shit. That’s just what we need to be dealing with is more dirty cops,” he spat, then looked at me. “If that’s what’s going on, then you need to find this woman and keep her off-grid. Brenda’s House isn’t that far away from Los Lobos territory. If I were you, I’d get her out of there just to be safe. I also think she needs to know what’s going on. She should be prepared.”
