Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  “Well, it appears that’s where Lambert headed after we released him. Butler and Benedict also used to work for him,” Darryl said.

  “The boys apparently decided to go it on their own.”

  Kellie made a tsk tsk sound. “Coleani would not appreciate that.”

  Amelia agreed. If anything could be said about him, he demanded loyalty from his employees and wasn’t kind to those who betrayed him. She had been unfortunate enough to see his handiwork once—her first lesson in anatomy, and she’d never forgotten.

  Darryl opened up the box and grabbed a slice of pizza. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Both Benedict and Butler have been part of his crew since puberty. They were both from foster homes and were regulars at his youth centre.”

  “You mean his tax deductible recruitment centre,” Kellie corrected.

  Amelia grinned. Kellie wasn’t one for mincing words no matter her stance on rights for criminals. Coleani always brought the devil out in her. Had since they were teenagers.

  She leaned back in her chair. “We had our tech boys take apart their hard drives and found they were running a website out of their home.”

  “What type of website?”

  “An all stop shop for your pharmaceutical needs, catering to the illegal side of course.”

  “How enterprising of them,” Kellie commented.

  “It seems the boys had a five-year plan, and hoped to become big real estate moguls. They already bought up six houses on Hamilton,” Darryl added.

  “Moving in on Coleani’s territory…never a good plan if you want to see your next birthday,” Amelia said.

  Kellie frowned. “Hamilton isn’t Coleani’s territory.”

  “He’s moved up in the world.”

  Chapter 10

  Kellie rolled fitfully in her sleep, the blanket twisting around her waist. In her mind she was back in the gutter, wishing, praying to die. Warm, sticky liquid rolled down her cheek from her forehead, which burned, the pain slightly below unbearable. Her whole body felt bruised and battered, used and discarded, and a sickening disgust threatened to drown her. The worst thing was knowing she would live to remember and relive the night over and over again.

  She couldn’t move, no matter how hard she tried, her limbs refusing the orders her brain sent. She listened to the thud of running footsteps, the small splash of stagnant water as those feet hit a filled pothole. The shouts of frightened people beside her filled her head, telling her to hold on. The sharp siren shrieked in her ears as the ambulance approached and the pungent scent of urine and the garbage in the alley filled her nostrils, making her want to gag.

  Her body was jostled as someone lifted her into a vehicle, the blue and red flashing lights aggravating her eyes. She moaned as needles were shoved into her skin. Instantly she felt better, her mind and body weightlessly soaring through the sky. She let the sensation take over her body. Soon her pain dissipated, leaving only sweet pleasure as the morphine kicked in.

  She felt serene until hands touched her body and head and she started struggling groggily. When the hands restrained her, she screamed. The words tumbled out of her mouth but as she heard them sounding far in the distance, they made no sense to her, just a bunch of gibberish. She dug her fingernails into the nearest hand and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

  “Calm down, miss. We’re here to help you. You’ve been hurt and we can’t heal you if you don’t stop moving,” a voice said, a moment before her hands were bound to the stretcher.

  “Stop, please, no more,” she screamed as she bucked wildly.

  “Shhh, miss…”

  Kellie felt a soothing hand on her face and hair. She bit down on her lower lip as a sharp stab of another syringe penetrated her skin. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her body relaxed without her permission. Her eyelids grew heavy and drifted shut as her racing heartbeat slowed.

  “She’s lucky to be alive, poor girl,” she heard someone say.

  “I don’t think she’ll see it that way when she regains consciousness,” another voice, filled with sympathy and compassion, replied.

  Kellie rolled over in her bed, unable to stop the flood of memories.

  She awoke when someone drew near while she lay vulnerable in the hospital bed.

  Her eyes opened wide in terror and she almost screamed at the intruder, feeling vulnerable as she lay in the hospital bed, her mind and body broken.

  “Don’t touch me!”

  Surprise etched into Mia’s mocha tanned face.

  “I’m sorry,” she said hastily, her gaze wandering up and down Kellie’s prone figure lying beneath the light muslin hospital sheet.

  Deep down, she knew she should apologise. Her friend had done nothing wrong, had in fact only tried to comfort and support her. But she couldn’t find the words or the energy to take the bite away from her actions, and didn’t care to do so.

  Her body felt tender all over, her head pounding, and she could feel something wrapped around her crown. She moved her hand towards her head and the needle in her hand pinched as it tugged against her IV. She winced at the new pain as she touched the white gauze bandage protecting her head.

  Kellie turned away from the now blurry face, her hands clenched into fists as sobs welled in her throat and her heart constricted in her chest.

  “Kellie,” Amelia said softly.

  Another voice spoke her name, too. It was familiar yet she couldn’t place it. The deep voice belonged to a man and her brain screamed at her not to open her eyes, but she couldn’t help herself. As if she no longer had control over them, they opened and she stared into the cruel face of her attacker.

  She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out as he approached her with a deadly calm demeanour, reaching out towards her as he prepared to finish the job. She struggled to stand, her body weighing her down so she couldn’t move.

  She bucked wildly on the bed, willing herself to wake up as in her mind she felt him touch her.

  “No, no, no, no,” she whimpered.

  Please, Kellie, wake up…wake up now, she told herself, knowing she was in the midst of a nightmare.

  She coughed as huge hands caught hold of her throat and squeezed. She reached up to hold onto his hands as she fought him with everything she had. Her nails dug deep into his skin and blood dripped out from the small half-moons she left there.

  The world spun around her and she could smell smoke and body odour. Not the normal odour from a man, but something worse, something dark and wrong. Kellie stared into brutal dark brown eyes just before everything went black.

  She jerked up in bed, a scream tearing through the dark room. Her blanket fell to the floor in a heap as her fitful movements pushed it off the bed. She could hear her own screams inside her head and outside, filling the otherwise silent bedroom, her shriek piercing her eardrums. She collapsed back, her head falling on the pillow as perspiration coated her forehead and her clothes stuck to her overheated, damp skin.

  She fought to catch her breath, her hand resting over her heart as she willed it slow. It had been years since she’d dreamed about that night and the events after. The case involving Coleani was bringing about old memories she preferred to keep hidden, never to see the light of day again.

  On shaky feet, she made her way to the bathroom that adjoined her bedroom and turned on the tap to the shower. She stripped out of her sweat soaked pyjamas as she waited for the water to heat up, and when it did she stepped into the glass cubicle and washed the remnants of her nightmare away.

  Forty-five minutes later, she was dressed to kill in her red A-line skirt and black V-neck blouse. She had put her hair in a loose chignon and had slipped into her favourite pair of black heels. She couldn’t sleep and had no desire to try in case her past returned to haunt her. Since it was too early in the morning to do anything around her house, she grabbed her purse and climbed into her white Ford Laser. A moment later she was driving off down the street.

  ***

  K
ellie stepped through the doors of the LAC carrying a bright pink box and a travel coffee mug. She pressed the button for the second floor on the elevator, and waited in silence as it took her there.

  She entered the Pig Pen and stopped short. Darryl sat at his desk, his gaze moving from his computer monitor to a sheet of paper. She glanced around at the other empty desks and let out a deep breath before moving slowly to join him.

  She hadn’t expected him to be there and wasn’t sure how to deal with it. There was something about him that set her on edge. It wasn’t anything he said or did. It was just... him.

  She was hyper aware of him, the attraction bone deep. He set her body ablaze, made her grow warm every time he was near. She’d never experienced the sensation before and wasn’t sure if she liked it or not. Her body belonged to her. She didn’t want anyone else to have control over it, but when butterflies fluttered in her stomach every time she caught him looking at her with heat in his eyes, she knew that it belonged to him, if only for the small time they were together.

  She’d felt the small spark between them the moment they met. It wasn’t anything spectacular but it was disconcerting. It made all rational thoughts leave her head and left her floundering.

  Not that she’d ever act on those desires. She couldn’t share more than her body with carefully selected bed buddies. Some were fine with that. Others wanted more. For them, it was like trying to draw blood from a stone.

  She knew her shortcomings which was why she never looked in her place of work for night time entertainment. Not that she had many other choices since she was always working, anyway.

  Sensing someone else in the room, he turned his head in her direction. His face showed surprise as his gaze found her. She stopped short of his desk and smiled brightly. As infectious as it was, he smiled as well.

  He was too damn sexy.

  “Surely it’s not morning already?” he asked, stretching.

  “Kind of, but very early morning.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “I couldn’t sleep or rather preferred not to,” she replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask why. The last thing she wanted to do was discuss her very real nightmares with him.

  Darryl interlocked his fingers and cupped the back of his head, leaning back in his chair to eye her. “So you came in early,” he concluded. “How did you know I was still here?”

  Heat suffused her cheeks. “Um…awkward. I didn’t know you’d be here. I actually came looking for Nick. I thought it was his turn to be on night shift.”

  Darryl nodded. “We swapped. But he should be arriving soon, so feel free to wait for him.”

  Kellie waved him off with her hand. “Nah, his loss is our gain. I have freshly baked donuts and they’re best eaten hot,” she told him, not exactly displeased by Nick’s absence. Maybe the time spent with Darryl would give her answers as to why her body seemed to sing in his presence. “Besides, maybe I get to actually have some. Nick usually gobbles them up before I have a chance to pig out. You in?”

  He nodded as he stood and brought a vacant chair toward his own. He sat back down as Kellie took her seat, placing the box of donuts before him. She crossed her legs and she caught him looking at her naked thighs where the fabric of the skirt had ridden up. Liquid heat pooled low in her belly and her mouth dried. He clenched his hands into fists as if forcing himself not to reach for her, making her imagination soar. Suddenly she pictured him tossing her down on his desk and running his hands up and down her body. She willed herself back to reality and pushed away those decadent thoughts, deciding to save them for when she was home alone.

  Darryl took a donut and stuffed it into his mouth. She smiled at the obvious pleasure on his face and was thankful Nick hadn’t been there when she’d arrived. Nick may be good looking, but he’d never turned her on with a single glance like Darryl seemed to do.

  “Tell me, what do you think about the case?” she asked him, her gaze probing his brown eyes.

  “It was sloppy. At first glance, it looks professional. But I’d say it was a first time killer by the amount of evidence he left behind,” he said.

  “That makes sense. An initiation or graduation. Do you believe it could be retribution? It’s a powerful motivator.”

  He shrugged and once more leaned back in his chair, dripping the raspberry centre from the donut onto his shirt. He cursed under his breath and swiped the blob with his finger, slipping it into his mouth. When she handed him a serviette, Darryl coloured as if suddenly remembering she was there. That didn’t do much for her ego, she thought, then reached up and swiped the small dollop of raspberry from the corner of his mouth.

  His eyes darkened and she pulled away. She was pretty sure they were both skirting close to a sexual harassment suit. He poured some water from his drink bottle on the desk and wiped his shirt clean—or near enough before tossing the soiled serviette in the small trash can beside his desk.

  He cleared his throat. “I believe it’s a possibility, and we’ll know more when we investigate further. I don’t like to base my opinions on conjecture. I like hard facts and evidence.”

  Kellie leaned forward and scooped up a cinnamon donut before taking a small bite. She chewed thoughtfully.

  “Okay, fact…Benedict and Butler were poaching on Coleani’s territory. He isn’t known for his restraint.”

  “Coleani didn’t pull the trigger,” Darryl pointed out, playing devil’s advocate. “Lambert did.”

  “But you can’t argue that Coleani is up to his ears in this. He may not have made the shot. That would be beneath him, but he was definitely involved and had prior knowledge.”

  “I’m not arguing, but what we know and what we can prove are two entirely different things. Coleani has been pulling the strings on his boys for years and everyone knows he doesn’t do his own dirty work anymore. Which is why he’s been so hard to catch. We can’t pin anything on him and have it stick. He’s as slippery as an eel.”

  A loud banging sounded behind them, and both she and Darryl glanced over as Amelia—dressed in jeans, boots, a Broncos shirt and a leather jacket—strode towards them, her long gait eating up the distance while the scowl on her face warned them, approach at your own risk.

  Kellie stood and placed the travel mug down on Amelia’s desk. She gave Amelia her bright jubilant smile and said, “Here you go, sunshine.”

  Amelia glared up at her, her mouth disfigured into a snarl.

  “Fuck off, Kellie,” she growled.

  “And a good morning to you too,” Kellie replied, her smile never wavering. She knew what got on Amelia’s nerves; bouncy and energetic was at the top of the list. “Still not a morning person I see.”

  Amelia shook her head. “Jesus, Kellie, what the hell are you wearing? We’re not on parade here.”

  Kellie looked down at her clothes, then over at Amelia’s casual look. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

  She turned to Darryl, who shrugged and said, “I’m not getting involved in this.”

  Kellie fingered the hem of her blouse self-consciously. She liked her clothes, which screamed professional, and gave her a slightly cool, keep away sign that saved her time knocking back unwanted advances. She was always the aggressor, never allowing another control. It was the only way she could be intimate without panicking.

  Amelia took a sip of the coffee from Kellie’s travel mug and her eyes bulged as the caffeine entered her blood stream. She felt some satisfaction when Mia looked down at the cup in surprise. She liked her coffee strong, especially on days like this when she’d had little sleep the night before and knew it would be a long and tiring day.

  “No offence, but your outfit is a little stiff,” Amelia said. “You know, rigid. The kind that says you don’t know how to have fun, that you have no idea what spontaneity is.”

  “They’re work clothes. They’re supposed to be bland and practical.”

  “All I’m saying is, how are you supposed to run down a criminal in three
-inch heels? I don’t see that as being practical.”

  “I sit behind a desk five days out of seven. I’m not chasing anybody down any streets. I don’t need a lot of movement or comfort in my clothes.”

  “Yeah, well, you’re not in the office anymore, sweetheart. While you’re a part of our team, you might have to do that, and I’d rather you not break an ankle.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  “Good, because we’re going to make a little visit to Coleani and ask some questions and if we’re lucky, ruffle some feathers.”

  Kellie’s body temperature dropped at the thought of casting her eyes on the man she’d hated for so long. She had never met him in person, never wanted to, and had managed to avoid it. Now it seemed her luck had run out.

  “I’m sure we can manage that.”

  Amelia smiled at her, the look in her eyes telling her that she’d thought of the times they’d interfered with Coleani’s business in the past. It was about to happen again.

  “I’m sure we can.”

  They’d been threatened by Coleani’s runners more than once in her youth, but she’d never been scared. No one did anything without Coleani’s authority and she wasn’t afraid of him. He’d already taken everything he could from her, and she’d doubted he even knew she existed—or cared, for that matter. She was nothing but a spit in the ocean to him. It had been a bold move to go up against Coleani, but that hadn’t stopped her from speaking out against the obvious corruption. Her voice had been lost in a crowd of people. Nothing she ever did made any dent in the world, and she figured if she pissed him off, she would hear about it. He’d almost been a stepfather to her. Even now, she practically gagged at the thought.

  She steeled her backbone, glad she’d dressed in her business attire, not casual like Amelia. She would need every bit of protection she could get, and as they said, the clothes made the woman. She felt confident and powerful in her heels and suit.