by Lola Taylor
Amy deflated. “I don’t want to argue with you.” She wanted things to go back to being the way they were between them, before the fighting. “You’re my best friend.”
You’re my only friend. Please don’t leave me alone.
Becca softened and smiled a moment before her gaze turned serious. “By the way, I got one of my friends in the police department to look into why Nathan’s parole officer has been ignoring your calls. Turns out he’s banging her and paying off her house.”
Amy’s jaw dropped. She sat there, stunned, staring at the road as Becca slowed to a reasonable speed. “Son of a bitch.”
“I know, right? Doesn’t really surprise me, though. You know Nathan. He’s a Hawke. They can buy their way out of anything.”
Wasn’t that the truth? Except, apparently, they couldn’t buy him a new career. He wanted Amy’s blood to pay for that.
She shivered. “Thanks for looking into it for me. At least I know now what’s going on.” Though she had no idea what the hell she was going to do about it.
“No problem.” Becca smiled. It was too tight. “That’s what friends are for.”
Amy gave her a smile back, unsure why Becca still seemed so tense.
“Now, let’s go rescue Prince Charming,” she said sourly.
Oh. That’s why.
Whatever. She was too tired to argue anymore.
Amy sank into the seat, crossed her arms, and stared out the window as heavy silence filled the car.
He’d lied.
Well, not exactly. He just hadn’t told the whole truth. That didn’t qualify as a lie, then, did it?
Scott sat on the mattress in his cell and stared out through the bars at his fellow inmates. Most of them were fighters who looked beaten half to hell, with scars they’d be sporting for the rest of their lives. The worst ones had gone to the ER, where the medical staff was probably trying to put them together again like broken dolls.
Silly, stupid kids. Reckless kids.
Scott wanted to scream at them to turn around, to stop putting money in Ghost’s pockets before it was too late. But he already knew once you set foot in the ring, once you signed your name on the dotted line, you’d essentially sold your soul to the devil.
Once a loan shark had you in its clutches, they would never let you go until you repaid the debt.
It had been a miracle Scott could find steady employment after he got out of the circuit. His case worker had had a hell of a time getting him work, considering Ghost’s underground reputation and the fact no one wanted to hire anyone even remotely associated with him, but after much praying, he’d found a job. Good behavior led to more jobs, and he had finally started clawing his way out of the debt Erika had dumped on him.
Now, all that hard work was shot to hell. One of the conditions of him keeping his jobs—and staying on parole—was keeping out of jail. Once his bosses and parole officer found out…
He was so screwed.
The click of high heels approached as a door opened.
“Now here’s a familiar sight.”
All the air left him in such a rush, you’d think he’d been punched.
Shooting up out of his seat as though he’d seen a ghost, he gripped the bars of the cell and stared at the skinny bleached-blonde in front of him.
“Erika?”
HE WAS IN Hell. He had to be, because Satan herself stood right in front of him.
Erika wasn’t what he remembered. If anything, she looked worse. The orange of her spray-on tan did a poor job of covering up all the bruises on her arms, left from her love affair with needles and various drugs. Her hair was too bright, too fake a shade of blonde. She’d always loved that color.
Consequently, as the reality of how poisonous Erika was sunk in, Scott began to loathe the sunny shade.
Except on Amy. Everything was perfect about his Amy.
Erika had grown skinnier. It looked as if her skin hung on her gangly form; he could see the hollow of her bones through the shadows that fell across her skin.
Calling her sickly would be paying her a compliment—calling her a corpse was more appropriate.
“My God,” he whispered. “What have they done to you?”
She fidgeted and smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress. “You’re looking well,” she said brightly, with a wide smile. Despite her other…“modifications,” it looked as though Ghost’s money hadn’t gone far enough to repair her teeth while she’d worked for him. They were yellowed, some broken off or rotten completely from years spent locked in a drug haze. It made him sad just to look at her. She, like so many other girls and boys, could have been so much more.
If Ghost hadn’t sunk his claws into them.
Scott continued to stare at her, trying to squelch the rising pity he felt.
Erika bit her lip and looked away. “I picked out this dress just for you,” she said in her raspy voice. Chain-smoking since she was twelve had been responsible for her eroded vocal cords. “I know you like violet.”
“What are you doing here?” He struggled to keep his voice calm. He needed to punch something.
No. No more violence. You gave that up, remember? Yes, he needed to deal with his stress in another way. So he grabbed the bars and squeezed hard, leaning forward to peer at her.
Erika smiled, her eyes hopeful. “I came here to get you out.”
His gaze narrowed. “In exchange for what?”
“Does everything have to have a price?”
“In our world it does.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line.
Scott was lucky he’d even gotten bail. After spending the first few hours being ruthlessly interrogated and thrown back in his cell, he didn’t think the police had believed his story. Of how he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, had only wanted to take his girlfriend out for a nice weekend out of town. Of how two thugs, and Ghost himself, had threatened them if they didn’t come downstairs. Now, Scott may have fudged the part about mistaking the police officers for more thugs when he’d punched a few of them in the face. After all, Ghost owned most of the police station.
The detectives who questioned him had brought up Scott’s past with Ghost. Scott had also pointed out he’d had a crystal-clear record since he’d made parole. The detectives hadn’t said a word after that, and shortly afterward, Scott was escorted back to his cell and informed of what his bail would be. It was…odd. He was still waiting for the catch.
Erika finally sighed and crossed her arms. “I came to bail you out because I wanted to.”
“With what money?” he almost asked. “You don’t have to,” he said instead, in an attempt to be polite, or at least civil.
She shrugged. “It’s already done.”
Sure enough, footsteps approached. Scott stepped back from the bars as the officer who’d put him in here, an older gentleman in his fifties, unlocked the door and pulled it back. “Lucky day, kid. Guess you owe this young lady a date or something.”
She beamed at him.
Did Scott mention he wanted to punch something? He almost told the man to just leave him in here, that he’d make his own bail, but he needed to find Amy and make sure she was all right. He couldn’t leave her alone with that creep Nathan on the loose. “Not likely,” he said brusquely as he brushed past a frowning officer and a frozen Erika.
She skittered after him on her six-inch heels as he barreled toward the exit. Damn, his car was still at the inn. He’d have to hail a cab. Quickly collecting his personal effects, he checked his wallet.
“Son of a bitch.” Where several ones, tens, twenties, and a one-hundred-dollar bill had been remained a few torn Washingtons.
Crooked pigs.
“Something wrong?” Erika leaned over his shoulder.
He slammed his billfold shut. Somehow, her seeing his wallet, something so personal that had been with him since high school, only pissed him off more. It felt like an invasion of privacy. “Everything,” he growled, bursting through the exit. The door ban
ged into the side of the building and made the glass sing. Some people leapt out of his way as he passed. Wise move.
The sky was starting to lighten. It had to be close to six a.m. Traffic had started to pick up with the early-morning rush hour, and pedestrians walked along the sidewalk, hustling to whatever glass-and-steel high-rise they worked in.
He’d have to ride the bus over a few blocks and walk the rest of the way. The police station was downtown, about fifty blocks from where he lived.
His long stride was purposeful as he stalked toward the bus stop.
The irritating click-clack of heels followed him. “Aren’t you going to thank me?” Erika said, annoyed.
“Ha, thank you? Don’t you mean ‘thank Ghost’?”
She stopped and gave an exasperated sigh. “I wanted to repay you.”
“Well, you didn’t!” Scott whirled around. People stared at them as they passed. Let them. He was past his boiling point, a slow simmer that had started the moment he’d laid eyes on the woman who’d nearly ruined him. “You think anything good comes from cutting deals with that thief? Huh? You think he won’t want something in return?”
Tears gathered at the rims of her eyes. “I only wanted to help you the way you’ve helped me, baby.”
“Don’t call me that.” There was enough venom in his voice to rival a snake’s. “Don’t you ever fucking call me that again, you hear?”
A sob escaped her lips. People glared at him. He nearly rolled his eyes. Of course they’d take her side. They didn’t even know him. Poor, helpless Erika.
Biggest mistake of his life.
Feeling himself on the verge of a complete meltdown, he turned and ran his hands over his face. One, two, three, four… Once he got to ten, he took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and turned back to face her.
She watched him with her head ducked and her shoulders rolled in, like a scolded puppy. That innocent act might have sucked him in once, but not now. Not after he knew better.
Still…he felt a bit like an ass. “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I’m sure you tried to do the right thing, but it was with the wrong method. Ghost will think I owe him even more now.”
“You don’t have to owe him anything.” She clung to his arm and gazed hopefully into his eyes. He resisted the urge to shrivel his lip and step back. “We can leave right now, never come back.”
Restraining his anger, he peeled her hands off. “Erika, don’t.”
“Please!” She gripped him even harder and dug her nails in. “Please don’t walk away from me again, don’t leave me all alone.” She shook her head as her voice broke. “I couldn’t live through it.”
“Yet you survived somehow,” he said dryly.
“Only because I kept dreaming of the day when we would be together again.” She cupped his face with her hands, eyes shining. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”
Before he could blink, she planted her mouth firmly over his.
“I still think this is a horrible idea,” Becca said tiredly as they turned on to the street where the police station was. The sun had started to peek over the horizon. It felt as if Amy hadn’t slept for ages. Emotional and physical fatigue were probably to blame for that.
Speaking of which…this topic was getting really old. Amy grated her teeth. “I know. You’ve said that at least fifty times.”
“Because I keep hoping what I’m saying is going to sink in.” Becca parked along the curb. They got out into the brisk early-morning air and walked along the sidewalk. The police station was just around the corner.
Amy kept her pace quick, partly from her desire to get this over with so she could leave Becca and her obstinate opinions behind and partly from her desire to get Scott out.
Deep down, she knew Becca had a point. Illegal fighting rings? Blood money? Scary mobster-like bosses who basically threatened her life? Any other girl with common sense would have pounced on the opportunity to run for the hills and leave Scott to his fate.
But not her.
Since meeting him, she’d felt more alive. More like her old self, a part of her she never thought she’d see again. It felt comfortable and right being with him, even if it was wrong on so many other levels.
Nothing else had done that in years. Not therapy, money, shopping, or meaningless blind dates.
She literally owed Scott her life. Finally, for the first time in two years, she felt as if she was actively participating in her own life and not just going through the motions.
She felt alive.
Her heart pounded as they rounded the corner. The police building was in view now; the American flag waved jovially in the breeze on the pole out front, along with the state’s and city’s flags.
They were close to the steps when a lip-locked couple caught her eye—and drew her to a complete stop.
Becca nearly slammed into her. “Hey, what’s wrong?” She looked up; a small gasp escaped her lips. “Oh.”
Oh was right.
Amy stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at Scott.
Who was apparently too busy sucking tongue with blondie to notice her.
She didn’t know how long she stared. It felt like an eternity, as if all the sound of the things happening around her vanished, leaving her with tunnel vision of the couple directly in front of her.
Becca grabbed her arm and gently tugged. “Come on, Amy,” she said quietly, “you don’t need to watch this. Let’s go.”
Amy couldn’t move. She felt her heart break. Her chest hurt. She couldn’t breathe, and her knees shook.
Becca stepped in front of her and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Amy, please. Come on.”
She knew she should go. Hell, she sure wanted to. But still, her eyes wouldn’t budge, and neither would her legs.
Then something amazing happened that made Amy gasp and lean forward.
Scott broke the kiss and shoved the woman away. “What’s wrong with you?” he said. “I don’t feel that way about you anymore!”
Amy listened intently, holding her breath because she was afraid if she so much as breathed, she’d miss a word of what they were saying.
The woman’s eyes were starry as she gazed adoringly at Scott. “But didn’t it feel good, baby?” Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she leaned in again. “You taste amazing. Always did.”
Planting his hands on her shoulders, he firmly held her back. “Look, I don’t know what Ghost promised you in exchange for helping him get to me, but I’m not part of some package deal. You can’t win me over with money.”
She trailed a finger down her breasts. “I have other things that might interest you.”
“No,” he said firmly.
The girl was on the verge of speaking again when she looked up and spied Amy and Becca. “What are you looking at?”
Scott turned around. All the blood drained from his face when he saw Amy. They stared at each other for a pregnant second. “Amy, I can explain—”
“It’s okay.” She held up a hand to stop him. She stepped closer, smiling. “I heard everything. It seems you were forced?” She looked at the girl.
The girl sneered and glared at Amy. “I didn’t force anything on him. He begged me to kiss him.”
“That’s not true,” Scott growled. “Erika, you should leave.”
Erika? Amy racked her brain. Where had she heard that name before?
Realization sank in. “You’re the woman whose debt he took on.”
Erika blinked. Her heavily glossed lip rolled up to her nose. “Excuse me? Just who the hell are you?”
Scott gave Amy a questioning look. There was a wariness to his eyes that made her heart squeeze, like a puppy waiting to be scolded.
Stepping up to him, Amy took his hand and looked Erika in the eyes. “I’m his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Erika shrieked. Her eyes did a full-body take on Amy, sliding from her head to her toes and back again. “You’re not even that pretty! Plus, you’re fat!”
“Eri
ka!” Scott snapped. “Not everyone has the same limited definition of beauty as you.”
Erika’s face turned red. She crushed her bony hands into fists. “Is she another stray? Another ‘damsel in distress’?”
Scott hesitated.
Erika smiled. “I know your type. You like to try to rehabilitate people and then release them back into the wild. He’ll do the same to you, honey.” She pointed at Amy. “It’s just a matter of time. He’ll leave you, mark my words.”
“That’s enough,” Scott said with quiet fury. His jaw ticked, and tension radiated off him. Amy could tell he was walking along a very tightrope of patience that was about to snap.
A hand touched Amy’s shoulder. “Come on, Amy,” Becca said softly. “You don’t need this right now.”
Damn straight she didn’t. Wasn’t getting away from drama the whole point of starting over? And here she was, right smack in the middle of another soap opera.
Maybe some people were just screwed like that.
Amy remained rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave Scott’s side.
“It’s okay.” He turned his back to Erika with a warning glance. “I’ll handle her and then come get you.”
“Why can’t I come with you?”
“I…need to take care of something.”
She raised a brow, not liking the guarded look in his eyes. Much as she wanted him not to keep secrets from her, she couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t time to have that conversation yet. Because if she expected him to spill his heart, to reveal all his monsters, then she’d have to return in kind.
And that was going to hurt like hell.
So instead, she smiled. “Okay. Call me when you’re ready.”
“I will.” He smiled back, giving her hand a squeeze before he let her walk away.
Becca eagerly tugged her along. “Nice ex,” she commented dryly.
Amy made no comment. She was too busy thinking about how she was going to tell Scott the truth about Michael.
About exactly how he’d died, and how it had all been her fault.
