Free

by Kristen Ashley

  “Keep goin’,” he kept growling when she stopped.

  “I was like, you know, trying to help her.”

  “Help her what?” he pushed.

  “Help her get clean. Help her get back to the life she should be leading.”

  Jesus Christ.

  Janna and her misfits.

  “Janna—”

  “There was word . . .” Back to talking fast. “She was seeing two guys. This wasn’t good. They were . . . if they found out about each other, it would not go well. Everyone was talking about it. They were like, not good guys. Both of them old enough to be her father.”

  Beck felt a weird sensation prickling at the back of his neck.

  “They said . . .” She shook her head but kept going. “I could tell she was tweaking more than she normally tweaked. Even when she was high, she was upset about something. I went to her house when it was late and I thought she’d be home because she partied a lot. She was there but she was really gone. She was stoned, but it was more. She was acting super funny. I tried to talk to her, but she just wanted me to go. I should have known something was up because she was kind of . . . frantic about me going. We fought. I didn’t want to give up on her and she was mad I just wouldn’t go. But, I had a feeling. I had a feeling with the way she was acting that something had to give. And soon.”

  Yep.

  Janna and her misfits, not giving up.

  “And then someone knocked on the door,” she said.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  “That’s when she lost it, pushed me in the closet and told me not to make a noise. Told me whatever I saw, whatever I heard, just sit there and be quiet and do not move.”

  His girl.

  In a closet.

  He knew what came next.

  “Jesus, fuck, Janna,” he ground out.

  “I know.” She nodded like she couldn’t stop doing it.

  Then she looked like she was going to start crying.

  She got control and kept talking.

  “He came in. He knew about the other guy. They fought, Beck, right away. It was bad. Like . . .”

  Her voice broke.

  He slid off her, took them to their sides, gathered her close, twisted his fingers light in her hair and held her tight around the waist with his other arm.

  “But she wouldn’t talk about that with him,” she continued. “All she wanted was drugs, you know, before they started. He said he didn’t have any. That was when she got angry. Got into his face. Said things to him, really ugly things, worked him up.”

  “All right,” he said gently.

  “But I . . . it was getting bad. He was really mad at first. Then suddenly, he wanted to get things started. You know, have sex. It was creepy, I can’t explain it. But, it was not right, not normal any way you looked at it. She wanted drugs before they did it, he was single-minded about just doing it. He got over the other guy like it was nothing. And I wondered if that was their, you know . . . thing. How they, well . . . played. Not even having a drink first, or I don’t know . . . something. They just fought and then . . . did it.”

  “Yeah, sweetheart,” he whispered.

  “It was weird, and wrong and so incredibly ugly,” she said. “And it made me sad for her because I don’t think that was her. I just think that was what she’d do to get her fix.”

  “Yeah, baby.” He kept whispering.

  “I had my phone,” she told him. “She had this friend. I’d met her once, briefly. So briefly, I probably wouldn’t even have remembered her name, but it was unusual. She was not in the life. She was trying to pull her out too. I found her number. Looked up the directory on my phone in the closet. I called her. I . . . I didn’t want her to know who I was, but I wanted to, I don’t know, maybe scare her into doing something. I was scared, Beck. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever experienced. I was in a closet. And it just didn’t feel right.”

  “Safe now, baby,” he murmured gently. “Keep goin’.”

  “I . . . I don’t know. I couldn’t really tell. The way she was. She was . . . dressed up for him. Ready for something. In, you know, schoolgirl clothes.”

  Jesus.

  “But I . . . Beck, I think in the end he actually was mad about this guy and I think he . . . he might have raped her.”

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  “I listened. So weak. I listened and did nothing. I was terrified. At first he was shouting. Destroying the house. But they stayed in the living room. I couldn’t get out without being seen. And she told me not to move, not to make a noise, and I wondered if she thought he might hurt me and was trying to protect me. Then they were doing it and I couldn’t tell. It didn’t sound right. It was rough. But she didn’t shout ‘no’ or anything. It was just not . . . not . . . not like it should be.”

  “Why didn’t you call the cops, sweetheart?”

  “I didn’t know if this was their normal thing,” she cried, her voice going higher. “And she would . . . she would . . . she would hate me. I’d never get through to her if I called the cops. She would cut me out. This guy gave her drugs. If he got in trouble and he couldn’t do that . . .” She let that lie but kept talking. “Her friend seemed really together. She knew her before she got hooked on drugs. I thought, if she came, she could intervene. She wouldn’t be scared. Not like me.” Her eyes got haunted. “It was all loud and ugly and then,” her voice got throaty, “nothing. Nothing, Beck.”

  He fucking knew it.

  Jesus Christ.

  Janna.

  “He killed her,” he guessed.

  She nodded, then shoved her face in his chest and sobbed, “He took off and I came out and she was . . . oh God, it was so hideous. And I sat in that closet and did nothing!”

  She pushed into him, her body overtaken, shaking violently with her sobs.

  He leaned into her, giving her his weight and warmth . . . and time.

  But they didn’t have a lot of that last.

  Because she was talking about a drug addict in the porn scene.

  He needed her to get it together so he could take care of her.

  And he could take care of business.

  Digger was out on a limb, no one at his back.

  Who knew what that fucking guy would do.

  “What’d you do then?” he asked.

  “I go-got out of there,” she bawled. “I d-didn’t know if he’d come back. So weak,” she whimpered her last.

  “Did you see him?” he asked.

  She shook her head against his chest. “No. Th-the closet d-door was closed.”

  “Did she use a name?”

  Her head shot back.

  “Beck, you promised!” she cried.

  “Promised what?”

  “You wouldn’t do anything.”

  “Baby, have you been to the cops?”

  More shaking of the head, terrified. “No way.”

  That was so not Janna.

  “Why?”

  “Because Rebel came.”

  “What?”

  “I . . . this guy, these guys . . . they were both tied up with my boss. My big boss. Benito Valenzuela. And if I snitched, Beck, if you do anything, say, now, he’d . . . he’d come after me. Come after you and me.”

  Fucking shit.

  “They were like, allies or something,” she told him, her eyes getting wild. “Beck, it was . . . one of them . . . one of those men was in your club.”

  Yeah, he was.

  “That’s why I don’t . . . ask about your club,” she explained haltingly. “I don’t know how it goes. I stay out of that. If you weren’t . . . who you are, how you are with me, I’d never . . .”

  She let that lie but didn’t stop talking.

  “But everyone knew about it. Both the men she was seeing were wound up with Valenzuela. If one found out about the other, Chantilly w
ould pay. If Valenzuela knew she was messing with things, Chantilly would pay. So everyone was worried. But she was getting drugs from both and she . . . she did that. She just did that. She couldn’t help herself. Anywhere she could get them, from anybody. And everyone knew it was bad. It was dangerous. So I tried to stop her, talk some sense into her, and that happened. That happened to her, she got killed, and then Rebel came.”

  “Who’s Rebel?”

  “She’s Tally.”

  He was confused.

  “Your director?”

  She nodded. “So I knew someone had sent her in, like, you know. Undercover. Because she was Chantilly’s best friend and I knew they’d get him. Rebel would get him. She’s so together, Beck. She’s not even afraid of Mr. Valenzuela like everyone else is. And I’d . . . I didn’t have protection. Like Rebel has to have, you know, since she’s working with the police. She has to be. But me? I don’t have any family. I have friends at work, but no one would go against Valenzuela. Help take care of me. I was alone. And I’d be like . . . like . . . one of those women laid out for Chaos. Just a dead girl caught up in a lot of ugly stuff.”

  She drew in a heavy breath and her expression turned tortured.

  “I was weak. Rebel totally didn’t even remember me, and I didn’t remind her. She’s undercover and looking after her friend who’s dead and I didn’t say anything. You have to live with what you did and I have to live with being weak. Sitting in that closet and thinking that was maybe just their way and doing nothing.”

  He didn’t know about anyone named Rebel or Tally, or anything about a woman undercover.

  What he had to know was who killed Chantilly.

  “Did she use a name?” he pushed.

  She went stiff in his arms. “You can’t do anything because I don’t want you to get dead either, Beck. The people involved in this all have ties to Valenzuela and that includes your club. And that man is crazy. I’ve heard the stories, but I’ve also been around him and you can actually see the crazy.”

  “My club is not tied to Valenzuela. Not anymore,” he told her.

  She blinked at him. “It-it’s not?”

  He shook his head. “And I’m not gonna get dead, baby, but I gotta know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m a police informant.”

  She grew completely still and stared at him.

  “Did she say the names Digger, Chew, Arthur or Wayne?” he pressed.

  “Wayne,” she whispered, eyes huge on him.

  Fucking fuck.

  He knew it.

  “I gotta call this in.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, still staring at him with big eyes.

  Beck held onto her as he reached over their heads off the side of the bed for his jeans.

  He got his phone, dialed Lucas and continued to hold her close as he put the phone to his ear.

  “Seems you’re havin’ a busy day,” Lucas remarked in greeting.

  “Wayne Benson killed that girl. There was a witness.”

  “Say again,” Lucas demanded, his tone now alert.

  “There was someone there. In the closet. Heard it all. And they heard this Chantilly woman call him Wayne.”

  “How’d you get this?”

  “I’ll get into that after you haul him in.”

  “They willing to testify?”

  “I’ll get on that after we get off the phone and you haul that sick bastard in.”

  “This person needs to come in and make a statement, Beck,” Lucas shared tersely. “We can make an arrest based on the physical evidence and his sketch alibi, but seeing as she was carrying on a sexual relationship with him, explaining why his DNA is at the scene, we got nothing else, so no DA is gonna push this through without more.”

  “You do your job, we’re off the phone, I can do mine.”

  “You got good thoughts you can back this up?”

  Beck looked down at Janna.

  “That isn’t my call to make. But I’ll state the case and it’s up to them.”

  “Eddie and Hank can at least lean on him with this info. Maybe he’ll break. We’ll send someone out. And we’re going after Sanderson, Beck. He’s obstructed an investigation. Provided false information to the police. He’s got a record. He’s fucked.”

  “I do not give a shit.”

  “Figured that,” Lucas muttered. “He retracts his alibi, we got more on Benson and more to break him. But we still need that statement.”

  “I’ll do what I can do.”

  “Right. Gotta go.”

  “Later.”

  “Later.”

  He made sure the call was disconnected before he tossed the phone on the bed.

  “You’re a police informant?”

  He gave his attention to Janna.

  “The deal was, I got something solid on anything beyond Valenzuela, the big catches, I get immunity and WITSEC. But I made that deal and then Valenzuela dropped off the face of the earth. He got back, broke ties with our club. The deal changed. I get something on my club, or anything on Valenzuela, I plead guilty and get a reduced sentence for assault and battery on Rosalie. Coincidence, and this fucked-up shit that is life, the man who killed your friend was a brother in my club. Until today. He was one of the guys I told you about earlier. One we jacked his ass out. I never liked him. He was acting cagey. I looked into things. Felt in my gut he was the one who hurt your friend, though I didn’t know she was your friend. I had no proof. But you just confirmed it.”

  “You were with me to get at Valenzuela.”

  She put that right together.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Fuck.

  “Baby,” he whispered.

  She stared at him.

  Fuck.

  “You know,” she said quietly, “this fucked-up shit that is life, sometimes the more fucked it gets, the less fucked it is.”

  He’d be shocked she dropped the F-bomb, repeatedly, if he knew what the fuck she was on about.

  “You’re not making any sense, sweetheart,” he said.

  “You were going to use me.”

  He wanted to tighten his hold on her.

  He forced himself to loosen it.

  When he did, she wrapped her arm around him.

  His chin jerked into his neck.

  “But you couldn’t do it because you’re a good man trying to do right. You weren’t after immunity. You were after atonement.”

  “Babe.”

  “You like me.”

  He pulled in another big breath that set his chest to pushing against hers.

  “You like me a lot,” she whispered.

  They were doing this?

  Time to do it.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  Light hit her eyes.

  “They need me to come in, don’t they?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said softly.

  “Okay, we should get dressed.”

  That was when he tightened his hold on her.

  She focused on him. “We should get dressed, Beck.”

  “You kept this secret for months, scared shitless about Valenzuela, and babe, you should have been. That guy is a whackjob. But now it’s, ‘okay, we gotta get dressed?’” he asked.

  “I didn’t have you before. Then even when I had you, I didn’t. Now I have you. And it was killing me, not saying anything. Not doing my part. Not helping them find who hurt Chantilly. Now I can do my part. So yes. Now it’s ‘okay, we need to get dressed.’”

  Well, shit.

  She trusted him.

  Trusted him to keep her safe.

  He looked in her eyes.

  She was all in.

  All in with him.

  And it was all out there.

  All out there for the both of them.

  But getting it out didn’t force a bunch of shit in between.

  Having it out brought them together.

  So he had to get it all out there so she knew what she was getting.


  “I loved her,” he shared.

  Her expression went soft.

  “I know,” she replied.

  “I hurt her,” he said.

  “I know,” she repeated.

  “I let them hurt her,” he kept at it.

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Beck slid his hand to her jaw. “I won’t let anything hurt you.”

  Janna, pressing close, her face growing gentle, her eyes going warm, slid her hand to his throat.

  “I know.”

  She knew.

  Fuck.

  He kissed his girl, his woman, wet, but light and soft, making it sweet.

  When he pulled away, the melting look was in her eyes.

  He gave her that.

  Beck made her happy.

  He took that in.

  Then he said, “All right, baby. Let’s get dressed.”

  While Janna sat with a cop named Jimmy Marker, giving her statement, Beck stood off to the side, out of earshot but not out of sightline of his woman, with Brock Lucas and his partner, Mitch Lawson.

  “As I told you, Bounty is now Resurrection, we ousted Digger and Pacino. Straight up, the guys who we have left are the decent ones. The guys in the joint kinda sucked. As evidenced by them refusing to swing deals and instead live off the state because they think it makes them badass to serve time. Way the club is going, not sure they’ll be asked to patch into Resurrection when they get out. So there’s nothing there,” he said to the detectives, eyes not leaving Janna.

  “So what you’re saying is, you’re not gonna be able to get anything on Bounty or Valenzuela,” Lucas noted.

  He turned to look at the man. “Aurora charter of Bounty is dead. They’re Resurrection, man. They’re into that shit. Valenzuela dropped us, and without Digger or Lannigan pulling the strings on that, he’s not coming back in. But it doesn’t matter. They’re not hyped up to get caught up in shit again. Not any shit. At all. So yeah, there’s nothing to get.”

  Lucas looked to Lawson, but Beck looked back to Janna.

  “I gotta go in, do the rest of my time, let’s get on that, yeah?” he muttered.

  “We’ll talk to the DA, see what’s happening with that,” Lawson said.