Pieces of Me

by Walker, Shiloh

  I didn’t skim through them. I just opened a new email and started to write.

  Dillian,

  We need to talk. If you decide not to talk to me, that’s answer enough and I’ll just close up the house. I don’t think this is the place for me anymore.

  If you do want to talk to me, you’d better be—

  I stopped, rubbed my brow and got up to pace, unsure of what I wanted to say, what I needed to say.

  Three minutes of internal debate didn’t make the words flow any easier so I returned and forced them out, one by one.

  You have to give me some kind of answers here. If you don’t, or even if you can’t, I guess that is answer enough. I had everything from my name and my voice and my choice stripped away. I won’t be made into nothing again, and you deceiving me makes me feel like nothing. I can’t do this. Either you talk to me or it’s just over. I realize that might feel unfair, but I deserve more than that.

  I’ll be at my table until noon Wednesday. If you’re not there, I guess it’s done.

  A part of me feels like I’m falling in love with you. But I can’t do that if I don’t know who you are.

  S.

  I read it through twice.

  Since there was nothing else to say, I sent it before I could lose my nerve.

  Then I leaned back in the chair and rubbed my eyes.

  I made myself stare into the velvety black that lay over the ocean, waited for the punch of fear to come, but it didn’t. Maybe I could beat some of it back after all.

  Minutes passed and an odd sort of acceptance rolled over me. It wasn’t peace. I couldn’t be at peace in the dark, not with everything going on, but I wasn’t terrified, and come what may with Jenks, I wasn’t going to roll over and just take it anymore, either.

  I was so done with—

  The phone chimed.

  I frowned.

  That was a ring I hadn’t heard in ages.

  Tony?

  Man, I hadn’t heard from him in a while. I bumped into him every now and then in town, but we rarely had anything to say to each other. With a frown, I read the message on my screen.

  Got time to talk? Feeling kind of blue lately about Seth. Don’t know who else to talk to.

  Tony wasn’t exactly one of my favorite people in the world, but I wasn’t really feeling ready to go bed, either.

  Blowing out a sigh, I typed out, sure. Then hit send.

  As I waited for the phone to ring, I went back to email and mentally groaned as everything started to load.

  The email at the very top caught my attention. Held it. Almost numb, I answered the phone more out of habit than anything else.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Grace,” Tony said, his voice soft. “It’s been a long time.”

  My skin went cold, tight. Grace. Why was he calling me Grace?

  Still staring at that picture, I swallowed “Hasn’t it? How are you?”

  I enlarged the picture. Stared at Marla’s face, the gag. There was a hand in her hair, jerking her head back. I knew from experience, it would be painful. What I didn’t know was who stood behind her, or who took the picture. What I didn’t know was where Seth was.

  Or why Tony had called me Grace.

  “Kicking my own ass. A lot. I never should have left Seth. Never should have fought with him like I did. He was right, you know. Standing up for you like he did. I should have done the same, should have stayed by him.” He was quiet a moment and then softly, he added, “I miss you two. I…I hear he’s planning to get married.”

  Planning.

  “Yes. Marla’s wonderful.” I kept my voice neutral.

  “I bet,” Tony said sourly. “He gets to pretend he’s nice and normal, just like he always wanted.”

  “All Seth ever wanted was to be happy. Marla gives him that.”

  Tony was quiet. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess. Listen…can…maybe I can come over. I just need to talk. This phone shit doesn’t work. Are you at home?”

  My skin went tight, started to crawl and it had nothing to do with that picture of Marla. I checked the time stamp. It had been sent today. Maybe two hours after they left Jenks’ house. I couldn’t see much of her clothing, but the strap of her shirt looked to be the same one she’d had on earlier. The earrings, too.

  “I’m not at home,” I said softly. “There was a problem at my house a few days ago. I…I guess I could meet you at Seth and Marla’s. I won’t be able to be there for a good two hours, though. Guess it’s a good thing I’m such a night owl, huh?”

  Tony flat-out loved that idea.

  I hung up the phone. I stared at Marla’s picture. Then I called Seth.

  The phone rang for a very long time.

  But there was no answer.

  I wanted to cry.

  Instead, I called another number.

  Jenks answered almost immediately.

  I told him what I needed to say, and then, as he yelled at me, I hung up.

  I knew what Tony was up to, and I knew why.

  It had nothing to do with Seth, with Marla, or even Tony.

  Somehow, Stefan was behind this.

  It took forty minutes to get to the street where I’d once felt safe.

  Once.

  No longer.

  The monster that had stripped me of my life, my name, even my voice for a time had managed to come back in and strip me of my safety. He’d touched my life, yet again, and I wanted to bloody him for it. I wanted to hurt him. The fury inside me had blasted me into wakefulness and I realized that it wasn’t going to subside.

  I’d wanted to wake up.

  I had my wish.

  As I’d asked, the cab driver let me out one street ahead and I moved in behind Seth and Marla’s house, taking the alley that most of the people on that side of the street used to access the narrow parking slots for their cars, assuming they had cars. Staying in the shadows, I found Seth and Marla’s little place and stopped.

  It was dark.

  Dark and quiet and my skin crawled as I stared up at it.

  Going inside was going to take every bit of courage I had and I wasn’t sure I had enough.

  But I had to look.

  Maybe the picture had just been a really, really good piece of photoshopping. I hadn’t thought to look because I’d been so freaked. Maybe it was something Seth and Marla were into and I didn’t need to know about their kinks.

  And maybe I would wake up tomorrow feeling like Xena, Warrior Princess.

  One step. If I could just do one step.

  I lifted my foot—

  And almost screamed as a hand shot out and closed around my arm from behind me.

  As the shadow in the darkness whirled me around, I struck out, fighting and clawing. I wouldn’t go back, I wouldn’t—

  Jenks caught my wrist. “It’s me.”

  His voice, low and steady, penetrated the fog, but not immediately. I struck him a second time and was almost ready to go for a third before the words made sense.

  The street lights were enough to see his face.

  They were also enough for me to see the badge he had hanging around his neck and I paused, swallowing at the sight of it.

  “What…” I backed away, looking down the alley. “Why are you here?”

  From the corner of my eye, I saw the look on his face and I realized I sounded as though I’d lost my mind. Had I really called him just to inform him that I thought Stefan had somehow managed to get Seth’s former lover to spy on me, talk him into…what, exactly?

  I’d called him, I realized belatedly, because I did trust him.

  What that meant for us, I didn’t know.

  Yet.

  But he was here because I trusted him, because I could trust him.

  Looking back at the house, I said, “Stefan’s done something to Marla. And more than likely, Seth, too.”

  “You don’t know that.” He pushed something into my hand and I looked down to see a set of keys. “My car. It’s at the end of the block, a b
lack Mustang. Get in. Lock the door.”

  I looked up at him blankly. “Are the police here?”

  “I am the police.”

  “You’re one police…officer. Whatever.”

  He muttered something and then pointed. “Would you go?”

  I stared down the dark maw of the alley, all the shadows looking like hungry demons, ready to suck me into hell. “No. If Stefan has anything to do with this, he’s more than likely around somewhere watching. I don’t think alone is the ideal thing anyway.”

  Not to mention that whatever was going on was because of me. Yes. It was stupid, and yes, it was foolish, but I was the reason this was happening. I had to see it through.

  Besides, my gut whispered that Stefan wasn’t here.

  He’d brought Tony in a for a reason.

  He never did like to get his hands dirty.

  I was still trying to process why I’d gotten the pictures of Marla before Tony had made that call, but I’d work that out later.

  “You’re not going in there,” Jenks said, his voice implacable.

  “Well, I’m not going to a car, either.” I glared at him, fighting the urge to do something stupid and childish, like kick his shins, as his eyes glinted down at me, all but black in the darkness.

  He snarled and spun away, skimming a hand over his close-cut hair.

  “You can’t go in there,” he said, shaking his head. “We compromise. I’ll walk you around the block, you go into the coffee shop. I come back here, I’ll have my phone on speaker, talk as I do a walk through.”

  I just stared at him. “What about calling this in or whatever it’s called? Aren’t you supposed to do that?”

  “And what if there’s nothing to call in?” He shook his head. “If the house is empty, then what?”

  “It won’t be empty.”

  His stark expression didn’t soften. “If I find something, then I call. But if you try to go in there, I will haul you away from here over my shoulder, fuck everything else.”

  I ordered a latte I didn’t want and sat in the back of the all-night coffee shop, watching students plunk away at their papers, listening as a couple talk about how expensive the houses were and why it was so insane trying to find a decent house here. Yeah, guys, it’s the Carolina shore. Deal with it.

  My phone rang.

  It was Jenks.

  “Hello,” I said, heart pounding. Everything had better be okay—

  Jenks spoke a moment later and my skin broke out into goose bumps.

  “I got your email. I’m going to talk to you now because I know you won’t hang up. I wasn’t using you. Yes, I wanted something, but it had to do with your fuck of an ex, not you.”

  My heart hammered against my ribs.

  “You were the last person I planned on coming in contact with, because I thought I knew everything I needed to know about your…type.” He paused, sighed. “Call that narrow-minded. I’m sorry. I’ve known too many women who were abused. It comes with the job. They always go back. They blame themselves, they blame their parents, they blame everybody but the one person who needs to be blamed—the fucker who did it. Even though I feel all the sympathy in the world for a battered woman, that’s not who I saw myself falling for.”

  I closed my eyes. A battered woman. Not the picture I saw of myself. That wasn’t who I wanted to be. Not who I saw myself.

  “And that’s not who you were, either. I was watching you, yeah. But I was watching you hoping he’d show up. He never did and the longer I watched you, the harder it got to look away. But I never set out to hurt you. Believe it if you can, if you choose. But I am sorry.”

  I heard something click. Or maybe it was a snap, like the sound my heart might have made.

  “Are you there?” he asked.

  “Where else would I be?” I sighed, feeling exhausted. He was right. I wouldn’t hang up. I wished I could, though.

  “I’m here. Inside Seth’s.”

  I suppose it could have been the door shutting.

  “His door wasn’t locked. Barely even shut all the way,” he said, his voice a bare murmur. Then, louder, he called out, “Seth?”

  My breath hitched.

  Then it stopped.

  “Sugar. I have to call the cops now.”

  “Jenks?”

  “Just stay there,” he said, his voice low. He tried for that soothing tone, but I couldn’t handle being soothed.

  Shoving back, I demanded, “What’s wrong?”

  A dozen people were staring at me.

  I didn’t care. Clutching the phone, my heart racing. I demanded again, “Jenks, what is wrong?”

  “Just wait there, baby. I’ll come to you, soon as I can.”

  I hung up and started to run.

  Chapter Seventeen

  An ambulance came screaming around the street about the same time I hit the front porch.

  The lights were on and that made it that much easier to see Seth.

  All the blood.

  All the bruises.

  He’d fought. And he would have fought hard.

  Jenks looked up at me and swore, long and low and I saw the gun in his hand as I came to a sliding halt on my knees next to him.

  “He’s not dead,” I said, the words bubbling out of me. “Tell me he’s not, tell me he’s not.”

  “He’s not.” Jenks turned to me, reached up, his hands coming up to cup my face and I felt the cool, hard surface of the gun pressed against my cheek as he forced me to meet his eyes. “Listen to me, he’s not dead, but he’s hurt and we have to get him help.”

  Gulping in a breath of air, I forced myself to stop. Forced myself to breathe.

  Not dead.

  Seth wasn’t dead. “Okay.” I nodded. “Okay.”

  Jenks let me go as a soft, broken moan escaped Seth.

  I went to him, going to my knees. “Seth.”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Listen to me, Seth,” I said. “You can’t let him win. You hang on for me. Okay?”

  There was no answer and then there was no time for one because there was commotion at the door.

  Officers came.

  Men in suits.

  Paramedics.

  I heard Jenks talking in low, hushed voices and then one of the men in a suit approached me.

  “You had contact with somebody about this.”

  My head was spinning.

  Seth was hurt.

  I didn’t know what was going on.

  Stiltedly, I told the man in the suit—Captain James Brooks. So innocuous, I thought. Such an innocuous name—the short version about my ex, the vandalism at my house, but he lifted a hand. “I’m familiar with that. I want to know about tonight.”

  I told him and he looked away, staring at the wall for a long moment and then looking at Jenks.

  Jenks stared at him impassively.

  A hundred unspoken things seemed to pass between them.

  Neither of them looked at me and I wanted to scream. All I really wanted were some simple answers and nobody would give me that. Nobody.

  “I understand you were going to meet a friend…Tony?”

  I nodded slowly.

  “This would be easier if you would talk to me,” Brooks said gently. “I want to help. I want to know what’s going on and I want to help. But you need to talk to us.”

  I shuddered out a breath and glanced at Jenks. He had a grim look on his face, but he looked at me and gave a short nod. “He’s a good cop, Shadow. Assuming you want to hear anything I have to say.”

  I wasn’t sure if I did or not, but I wanted to help Marla.

  So I told Captain James Brooks.

  Everything, or as much as I thought he needed to know so he could help Marla.

  When I finished, he took me through it again, asking short, concise questions.

  I got two texts from Tony, asking if we were still on. I guess that meant Stefan didn’t have people watching this place.

  I gave the phone to Brooks, let
him read each message and eventually, he told me he’d have to take the phone.

  “Okay. I think it’s safe to assume your friend Marla is in danger?”

  “You think?” The words flew out of me, a biting slash of sarcasm that caught me off guard.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Jenks smile, a slash of white teeth in his dark face.

  “That might have been a…facetious comment,” Brooks said, inclining his head. He stroked his chin. “Would this Tony be helping your ex if he knew that Seth had been hurt?”

  “No.” I shook my head, certain of that much. “He’s a self-centered piece of work, but he loved Seth.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Brooks continued to rub his chin, then he pinned a hard look on me. “If we put you out front, with officers in the house, in the houses across the street and on the perimeter and Lieutenant Jenkins nearby, would you be comfortable talking to this Tony to see what is going on?”

  Lieutenant Jenkins?

  As he opened his mouth to respond, the captain cut him off.

  “Be quiet.” Brooks shot him a dark look. “This is already more of a mess than I can even comprehend and we have a woman missing. Whether it’s tied to her ex and your sister, I don’t know, but we might only have this one shot and we have less than an hour. So shut it.”

  Sister.

  Jenks’ gaze came to me then. And in the back of his gaze I saw something. Some that maybe I should have recognized. A haunted look. I knew that look. I saw it every day in my own eyes.

  “Sister,” I murmured.

  He closed his eyes, lowered his head.

  Brooks looked between us, a troubled expression on his face.

  Silence, taut and strained passed. I broke it, unable to handle it another second. “I’ll wait for Tony.” Then I said softly, “Although I don’t know if anything will happen.” Although Tony had called, I still found it hard to believe Stefan wasn’t aware of what was going on here, hard to believe he didn’t know the cops were here.

  He probably knew.