Antihero (Imperfect Heroes Book 1)

by C. J. Pinard

  Not only did I have that going for me, Talia had forgiven me, and she’d opened up to me, too. And damn, I’d felt so shitty when she told me about her past, but the part that hit me the hardest was her miscarriage. My own mother had told me that she had one before my pops had gone to prison. He’d gotten drunk and slapped her around and she lost the baby. She still had a little sonogram picture thing of the baby in her jewelry box. I’d seen it once as a teen when I was going through it to see if she had anything valuable I could hock for some extra cash. I thank God every day all she’d had was cheap costume jewelry crap, because now, there would have been no way I would have forgiven myself for stealing from her. Seeing that baby picture had sobered me up anyway. She had told me about it once, but I never asked about it again. Bummer I never had a brother or sister, but they could have turned out even worse than me, and really, the world didn’t need that.

  After Talia had told me about the baby, I sorta wanted to ask her if she wanted kids ever, but decided not to. I wasn’t even sure I did, and it really wasn’t relevant. Two fucked up people trying to raise a kid? Probably not a good idea.

  I smoothed some goop into my hair and gave myself a quick shave before spraying on some cologne. I again contemplated if I should get a haircut, but there wasn’t time. Talia was gonna be here in ten minutes and my house was sort of a mess. I threw on some jeans and a dark-blue T-shirt and some button-down thing with a checkered design on it over it. I rolled the sleeves to the elbows and shoved my feet into my Justin boots. I loved these damn boots. Brown, worn, and comfortable as fuck.

  I left my room and closed the door, and then I wandered into the kitchen and quickly put some dishes in the dishwasher. I then got rid of the plates, cups, and beer bottles from my living room and dining room and put them in the kitchen. God, I’m such a slob.

  The doorbell rang just in time. I answered the door to see Talia standing there in a white flowy-looking sundress and those damn cowboy boots that drove me crazy. Her hair was down, the wild curls falling around her face. As usual, she didn’t have on much makeup, but her pretty pink lips were all shiny. I felt myself stiffen in my pants.

  She walked in and put her arms around me and smiled. “I’ve missed you.”

  I chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “You just saw me this morning.”

  “I know.” She laughed. “Are you ready?”

  I nodded, patting myself down to make sure I had my keys, phone, and wallet. Check, check, check.

  We walked out into the parking area, and when I saw her car parked next to mine, I said, “Your car is locked, right?”

  She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Yes, Dad.”

  I grabbed her hand and kissed it. “Don’t sass me, or I’ll have to spank you.”

  “Promise?” she asked, a mischievous glint in her pretty eyes.

  We walked to the restaurant we’d agreed on earlier. It was only a few blocks from my house, and it was a nice night. She planned on staying over, so her coming to meet me here just made sense.

  I held her hand as we walked, the warm night not too hot and not cold, just perfect. She told me some more about her mom and a younger brother who had received a college scholarship and was living somewhere out west to get his degree. I talked to her about my mom and stepdad and told her I wanted her to meet them one day. That made her smile. I finally opened up about my visit with Harper Mathis and the job prospects she’d given me. She looked so happy, and I tried to memorize her face.

  “Ellis Anderson?”

  We turned around slowly when a male voice said my name with an authority I recognized. Two Tampa P.D. officers were standing there, looking stern.

  “Yes, sir?”

  The larger of the two walked over and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Sorry, son, but you’re under arrest for assault and battery of Justin Silver.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered. I didn’t even need to ask. That pussy bitch Ripper had pressed charges.

  “Oh, my God! No, please don’t,” Talia said, seeming to know why I was being put in cuffs. “That thug attacked us first!”

  The shorter of the two officers paused for a minute, but only said, “Ma’am, please step away, we have to take him in.”

  Talia was crying now, dammit. The officer took mercy on her and handed her a card. “He’s being taken here. He can probably make bail, but call that number and they will let you know.”

  She took the card but kept looking at me as the cops walked me to their waiting car, putting me into the backseat. I gave no resistance, as I knew they were just doing their job. I could only hope to claim self-defense. There went my chances with the prison job.

  Fuck my life...

  I turned around to see Talia standing in the street with the glare from the streetlamps illuminating the tears streaming down her cheeks. I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. If that shitbag was out and I was going to jail, I was gonna find his ass when I made bail and he was gonna face the wrath of LT.

  The drive had been short and the booking process very standard. As I lay on a cold, hard bunk in a cell wearing an orange jumpsuit with nothing to entertain me but my thoughts, I wondered if I would ever see Talia again. Assaulted, had a gun pulled on her, now watching me get arrested. Yeah, I was such a catch. At least I’d told her about my past, so I held onto a small glimmer of hope that she would forgive me—again.

  God, what a mess I’d made. I should have just stayed in the Marines. Why the hell did I get out anyway? Oh yeah, ‘cause my body was starting to break down from all the stress and injuries. Plus, I was missing home, which obviously made me a pussy. Yep, should have stayed in.

  “What the fuck are you doing on that side of the bars, Anderson?”

  My head jerked up when I heard his deep voice. A voice I’d know anywhere. A smile I couldn’t control spread across my face and I stood, rushing over to the bars. “Duke. What are you doing here?”

  He pointed to the pretty-boy next to him with the dark hair and a badge attached to his belt. “My brother told me you were here.”

  “Okay… well, are you springing me, Sarge?”

  Duke laughed his deep, rumbling laugh, one I hadn’t heard in years. “Yeah.”

  I looked a bit confused. I hadn’t seen Duke Hawthorne since I’d gotten out a few months ago. I knew he lived here, had gotten himself some badass FBI job years ago, but I had no idea who his brother was. I tilted my head in confusion as I looked at him.

  “This is Detective Mason Oliver. He’s my brother, like I said. He’s with Tampa P.D. He saw you being brought in, but when he learned your name by seeing it on the prisoner list, he recognized it and called me. I told him about how you saved my life in Afghanistan, bro.”

  “Honored to meet you, Ellis,” Mason said, putting his hand through the bars. I put mine out and shook it.

  I looked at Duke, and then let my chin fall. “I didn’t save your life. How many times I gotta tell you that?”

  Detective Oliver opened the door with a set of keys attached to his belt and let me out of the cell.

  Mason Oliver had kind hazel eyes and a tough exterior, combined with professional pressed clothing that matched his professional attitude. I liked him already. I nodded my appreciation at him for letting me out.

  “What time is it?” I asked Duke.

  He rubbed a hand over his beard and looked at his fancy watch. “Almost two a.m.”

  Fuck. I’d been sitting in that damn cell for eight hours.

  “You posted my bail?” I asked, cringing at the thought of owing anyone anything. I couldn’t imagine how much that would cost, and I was obviously still unemployed, living off of my government check for now. I watched as Duke limped slightly and I felt sick that he still had pain from that injury, the one that replayed in my nightmares every night.

  “Wish I could be the hero in this story, dude, but I’m not. Your girl is.”

  I looked at him questioningly. “Talia was here? She posted my bail?”

&nb
sp; He shook his head as he pulled out a can of chew and shoved some dip into his bottom lip. “Nah, she just gave her statement to my bro here. She told him how Silver had pulled a gun on you guys in the middle of traffic, and that’s all we needed to hear.”

  “His nickname is Ripper, just FYI,” I said to Mason.

  Mason laughed with his arms still folded across his chest. “Yeah, we know. After he was treated at the hospital, two uniforms brought him in for questioning. We let him go because he left out the part about him pulling a gun on you and Red. After she gave her statement, we checked the traffic cameras, which confirmed her story. We then brought him in on felony gun charges and stripped him before tossing him in a cell. He’s got RIPPER tattooed across his entire back. We asked him what it meant, and he told us it’s his alias. And he told us fairly easily, I might add.” He chuckled.

  “Felony gun charges? He didn’t actually shoot us…” I trailed off.

  “Felon in Possession of a Firearm,” Duke said. “He’s facing another five years. He can’t be in possession of any weapons. Firearms, knives, explosives… all will get him thrown back in prison. Which is where he’s headed now… on federal charges this time. There is no parole. He’ll do the full five years, plus the three the state let him off. You don’t need to worry about that douchebag, Anderson.”

  To say I was relieved wouldn’t be a lie. I wasn’t afraid for myself, just my girl. She didn’t need to be thrust into this world of mine. Where my past indiscretions were colliding with my present. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved to be treated like a queen, and after this horrid experience, I sure as fuck was going to treat her like one.

  After out-processing and getting my clothes and personal property back, Mason dropped me off at my house. I had debated having him drop me at Talia’s, but it was four a.m., and wasn’t sure that was a good idea. Exhaustion overtook me and I thought maybe a few hours of sleep would do me good, so I gave him my address instead. I barely made it to my room once inside, and the minute my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light, my final thoughts on how I was going to go see my girl tomorrow and make everything okay again.

  If that were even possible.

  Chapter 14

  Talia

  School passed quickly the next day, and I aced my first geometry exam of the new semester. I was very proud of myself for doing it, even if I had nobody to share my elation with. Thoughts of Ellis invaded my brain at least once an hour, but I was glad I’d not let the thoughts of last night consume me to the point of failing my exam. Even more than that, thoughts of the other big news I’d received yesterday.

  Yes, I’d gone down to the precinct to give my statement. I was beyond pissed off that they’d arrested him for assault when that disgusting Ripper guy had pulled out a gun in the middle of broad daylight—and had threatened me with it. I just had to do something. So I did. I’d gone back to his house and got in my car. I then marched my ass into that police station and demanded to talk to someone.

  They’d kept me waiting in that uncomfortable waiting area for over an hour, but eventually, an extremely hot cop named Detective Oliver in a pressed blue shirt and slacks with black hair and the coolest hazel eyes I had ever seen came in and took my statement. He was so hot, it was kinda distracting, I’m not gonna lie. But he was no Ellis. This guy was a bit pretty, unlike my rugged man. I told Detective Oliver about how that disgusting piece of shit had pulled a gun from the back of his baggy pants and had pointed it at me and forced me out of the car.

  He had asked if I wanted to press charges for assault and hostage-taking. I’d said yes. So yay me, now I get to go to court and testify against that douche-canoe. The detective then punched some keys on his computer and pulled up a grainy traffic camera. I watched in awe as the scene that wouldn’t stop replaying in my brain replayed on his computer screen. Just how I’d remembered it. He’d thanked me for my time and then told me I could go.

  But what bothered me the most was how they wouldn’t let me see Ellis while I was there. They said a judge had to decide on bail and that visiting hours were at noon the next day. Discouraged, I’d left the police station to try to get some rest, knowing I had tests today. And I was glad I’d had. There was nothing more I could do. Plus, I was exhausted beyond belief. I just worried about Ellis being in jail and hoped he was safe.

  I shoved the key into the lock to my apartment and flung open the door. Throwing my purse and keys onto the dining room table, I picked up Misty and kissed the top of her furry head. She meowed loudly when she had had enough cuddles, and I put her down on the floor and went into the bathroom. I avoided eye contact with the little white stick that showed two pink lines still sitting on the back of the toilet. If I didn’t acknowledge that it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t be, right? The problem would just go away and I could get on with my life. So that was what I did. Those drug-store tests were wrong all the time anyway.

  Sighing in denial, I went into the living room and plopped down on the sofa, wondering when I would be able to see Ellis again. How long was he going to spend in jail? My stomach turned over and I gagged and almost threw up thinking about him sitting in a cold cell.

  Or perhaps there was another reason for the nausea…

  I shifted my thoughts.

  It was almost two in the afternoon and I had the evening off from the coffee shop. My classes were done for the week and I wondered what I should do to keep my mind off of all this shit. I smiled again when I thought of the test I’d aced—not the one in the bathroom but the one in the college classroom—and my immediate response was to call my mom to tell her. But my mom wasn’t around for me to call. She’d died along with my heart when she’d overdosed on a cocaine-tequila cocktail on my twenty-first birthday.

  I shook my head, trying not to remember her open, milky eyes and the white foam bubbling from the side of her mouth. I’d come home from school that day in a great mood, hoping for a birthday present. Instead I’d received a reoccurring nightmare that would probably plague me for the rest of my eternal freaking days.

  I used the remote to pop the TV on and stared without seeing at the late afternoon talk show. Another TV psych trying to help a young girl from going down the wrong path. With my arms folded over my chest, I just shook my head at this guy, thinking he could fix this young girl. Little did he know—he couldn’t. She would be fucked up for life unless she made her own conscious decision to turn in a different direction and make things better for herself. I turned the TV off and decided to visit Mom.

  I parked in the lot that could use some new asphalt and got out of my small car. In my left hand, I clutched the small bouquet of multi-colored flowers I’d picked up at the grocery store. In my right hand, my car keys were gripped tightly. I took a deep breath and headed toward the headstone that was so familiar it shouldn’t have caused me pain anymore.

  But it always did.

  I slogged over felled leaves and wet earth until I reached it. I placed the flowers at the foot of the headstone and sat cross-legged in front of it.

  SHARON MARIE SMITH-LOGAN 1969—2014

  Mother, wife, friend, angel.

  With a deep sigh, I said, “Hi, Mom.”

  The cold, gray stone said nothing in return.

  “I wish you were here. I need some advice on a boy.”

  Inhaling a deep breath, I continued. “Mom, he’s so beautiful, he takes my breath away. His eyes are the color of the sky on a perfectly clear day, and they stare at me—they stare through me. I can get lost in them for days.” I laughed lightly without humor, plucking a few blades of grass from beside me. “I suppose I sound like a total sap.” With another deep sigh, I kept talking to no one, the confessions somehow feeling like a deep cleansing of my soul. “I’m pretty sure I love him. But how can I love someone who’s bad for me? He’s bad, Mama. He’s so very bad. He’s got a bad past, and he’s done some awful things. He can’t be good for me, right?”

  A horn honking knocked me out of my whispered conf
essions to my long-dead mother. I looked up to see nothing in the parking lot.

  Shaking my head at my foolishness, I kept rambling. “He’s so beautiful, Mom. His voice is deep and his mouth is perfect. When I kiss him, I get lost in his, his… well, his everything. I try to keep my eyes open to capture the breathtaking blue of his eyes, but they end up drifting closed so I can get lost in him. And when his rough hands turn soft and explore my every inch, I am completely useless. I turn to putty in his hands.”

  A slight warm breeze blew. I closed my eyes, pretending it was my mother, coming to offer me a sliver of comfort or advice as to what I should do about Ellis. My mind wanted to hate him—to tell him to get out of my life. It would be so much simpler if I didn’t have all this drama. But my heart… it tightened painfully in my chest and begged me to go to him. Like a magnet. He was the negative charge and I was the positive, drawn together inexplicably and it was infuriatingly unexplainable.

  I shook my head. “What does all this mean, Mama? Should I just fall into him, let him have me—let me have him, any way I can get him? Or should I tell him to move on without me? Aside from being beautiful, he’s also got something deep inside of him that seems like it needs to be let out. I want to help him exorcise his demons. I want him to open up more to me. And he has, to an extent. I want to be and have been sympathetic to his troubles while trying to let him know I need him to help me through my trials, too. What do I do? Why aren’t you here to help me with this? Why did you have to leave?” I choked on a strangled sob and wiped tears from my cheeks, trying to breathe through the pain in my throat and chest at her loss. I sniffled like a child and took a deep breath. “You were so selfish, you know. You should have thought about me and Calvin before you left us. Even though we’re adults, we still need you. Why couldn’t you see that? Understand that?”