by Kim Faulks
She crossed the empty space to the corridor on the far side and climbed the stairs and yawned. Her sleep had been restless. A strange room, strange bed. Her life was no longer familiar. Her stomach cramped low, tensing until her steps slowed. The familiar ache made her heart sink. Oh, not now, please? Just one more week.
The bathroom was at the end of the hall on the left. The glassy tiles shone in the mid-afternoon sun that streamed into the high windows. Everything in this place was oversized, the men included. The soft padding of paws followed her. Holy Shit trotted into the bathroom and plonked down across the doorway.
“You sleep okay, boy? Guard the door while I have a shower, okay?”
The dog never answered.
She exhaled, letting out the tension and muttered. “All right, good talking to you.”
Bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and soap lined the long shower stall. She opened the cabinet, searching for pads, tampons, anything. Tucked discreetly in a corner were pads. She whispered a thank you and pulled them free. Surely Fate wasn’t in need of these. She remembered the party she’d crashed, the dark corner where Fate and another woman had sex. That’s right, she’d into girls. Now this made sense.
There was no tub that she could see. A row of shower heads jutted from the tiled wall like a high school locker room. She glanced at the dog, who now seemed to be asleep, and pulled her shirt over her head. Naked, she wrenched on the water.
The hard pressure stung until the heat invaded her muscles, taking away the tension in her shoulders. She lathered and rinsed, picturing the spilled blood and shampoo that covered her bathroom floor yesterday. Creed would do all he could to find Claire.
It’s my job to help him.
Helaine shut off the water and grabbed one of the thick towels from the rack. She dried and wrapped the towel around herself before grabbing her clothes from the floor. The jeans would do, but a change of shirt was needed. She’d need to purchase some basics, fresh underwear and a change of clothes. There was no way she was going back to her apartment. Not alone.
Holy Shit snored. She stepped over him and made for Fate’s room. She didn’t know how long she had before Creed and the others returned. She looked at the bloody jeans, there was no way she could wear those again. Fate was of similar build, particularly in the bust. She opened Fate’s cupboard and rifled through her shirts, searching for something appropriate. What the hell was appropriate dress to see the man who ruined your life? She settled for a sheer black shirt with a low neckline and a clean pair of jeans.
She tied her hair in a loose bun and tucked in her shirt before pulling her boots on. Surveying herself in the mirror, she supposed for someone who had a hell of a few days, she didn’t look half bad. She squared her shoulders and bared her teeth. I can do this. I can face him and walk away. He won’t hurt me again.
The dog was waiting for her in the hallway. When she neared, he rose, just like a bodyguard. “Not this time, okay? I’ll be back soon. You won’t even know I was gone.”
He chuffed and then yawned. She guessed that said it all. She felt bad for leaving him, but marched down the hallway. Something squealed and crashed in one of the rooms as she passed. The sound spurred her to walk a little quicker, until she remembered the pig. That must be Heath’s room.
She closed the front door behind her without locking it. She’d be an hour at most. If someone broke in, well, they had the dog and the pig to contend with.
The white corridor looked different during the day. Helaine walked to where the sheeting looked loose. She pried the edge away and peered into the alley before squeezing through. Cars rushed past the busy street. Helaine hurried, heading toward the sidewalk. She had enough money to grab a taxi to the Sutherland Station where Mark worked. From there, it wasn’t far to the shopping center, but time was running out. She had to hurry if she planned to see Mark and return to Creed.
She headed west, walking along Gordon Street until she found the nearest row of taxis. The car she chose smelled of cigarette and pine. She swallowed and tried to breathe through her mouth as she gave the driver directions.
The taxi sped off, merging with the traffic while she thought of Mark. As always, his memory brought pain. She couldn’t deny the loss of their son hurt him. It severed their family. She’d become mired in grief while he’d moved on.
The cab slowed and pulled up to the curb. The driver pressed the small screen in front of him. “Thirty-five seventy.”
Helaine passed him a pair of twenties and looked out at the imposing building. “Keep the change.”
Coming here had once been pleasant and familiar. Now she felt a need to be on guard. Just get this over with. She stepped out and closed the door behind her. She was here for one thing alone, to try to reason with Mark.
Helaine knew Marissa, who manned the front desk at the station. She glanced up, smiled, and then the smile faltered. “Helaine, it’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has. How are you, Marissa?” Helaine caught the extra stripe on her lapel and nodded. “See you finally made sergeant.”
“Yeah, it only took me fifteen years,” she answered with a laugh. “You here to see Mark?”
“Yeah, if he’s available.”
Helaine headed toward the door that divided the officers from the public.
“I think so. Go on through. And, Helaine….”
Her hand was on the cold door handle, she didn’t want to turn around, didn’t want to hear what was coming next.
“I’m sorry about the baby.”
She nodded and answered abruptly. “Thank you.”
Helaine pushed the handle and entered the back office. Blue uniforms filled the room. Suspicious eyes followed as she made her way through the General Duties floor to the stairs at the back. The detectives’ level was one floor up. Her stomach clenched as she hit the top and turned, making the last few steps toward Mark’s office.
The familiar bass of his voice drifted down the hall to greet her with a punch to her stomach. She slowed at the open door to his office, catching sight of Mark’s partner perched on the edge of his desk. Mark glanced up and his brows rose. “Let’s continue this later, Tommy.”
“No problem. But we have to make a move on this soon. We can’t let this one slip through our hands, Mark.” Detective Tom Holston was Mark’s best friend. At one time he’d been her friend, too. Tom turned and halted and his face froze into an expressionless mask. The moment lengthened until his expression suddenly changed. “Helaine, it’s good to see you.”
He grabbed her by the shoulders as though he didn’t know whether to hurt her or hug her. His grip was hard, grinding the bones in her upper arm before he wrenched her close.
She winced and stared over his shoulder at Mark. He just sat there, unmoving. “It’s good to see you too, Tommy. It’s been a long time.”
He stiffened and then stepped back, but didn’t meet her gaze. “Yeah, that’s my fault. You know how it is. Work gets in the way. I’m sorry Hel—”
“Yeah.” She cut him off and looked to Mark. “I know how it is. Do you think I can have a few minutes alone with Mark?”
“Sure, sure… whatever you need. “ He took a few steps down the hall before he spun. “And Hel, don’t be afraid to come to me if you need anything. anything at all.”
She nodded, managing a weak smile. She could feel Mark’s eyes on her, trying to ‘work her out’ as he used to put it. Tommy returned her weak smile and then left her alone with the man she once loved. The man who, somehow, she still loved. She felt naked under his gaze, so easy to pull apart, yet harder to put back together. To her, Mark was an enigma, hidden and undecipherable. This trait was both the one thing that fascinated her about him and the one thing she hated.
Mark crossed his arms as he spoke. “So, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on, Helaine?”
She stepped inside and closed the door. This wasn’t police business. This was personal. “It’s not what it looks like, Mark. These people—“
>
“Are dangerous.” He cut in. “You have no idea the kind of people that you’re dealing with, Hel. They’re murderers. They’re filth.”
Even though Mark was the one sitting, he still looked down at her, treating her as though she was a porcelain doll, too delicate to live her own life. Creed’s tortured gaze returned, haunting her. Mark didn’t understand Creed or the others. He didn’t realize the sacrifices they made, or the battle they fought… he’d never understand because. Creed’s voice echoed. Because they are naïve, Helaine.
She swallowed. She had to try to reason with him. “You don’t know them, Mark.”
“And what? You do, Helaine? I’m struggling to find the connection here. I mean, first I get a call from Claire telling me she’s worried about you, asking, no, begging me to come see you. Then I find you in a fucking sex club!”
His voice rose. She was sure the other officers could hear. “Please, Mark, lower your voice.”
He stopped. Silence and humiliation occupied the space. How could she have been so stupid to think he’d listen to her? Only a fool would think he’d actually care enough to try to see things from her point of view. “They were there when I needed them, which is more than I can say for you.”
Her heart thundered so hard her chest ached. As soon as she said the words, she wished she could take them back. Mark stared at her with a vacant expression. She waited, waited, until he growled. “How dare you say that to me!”
“You’re not seeing things from my point of view, Mark. You never have. All I’m asking is to not let your judgment cloud the truth. Creed didn’t kill anyone. He’s innocent.”
His lips curled back from his teeth. “I doubt that very much. This loser and his deadbeat crew all have records as thick as my damn arm. You have no idea who you’re getting mixed up with, Helaine. Please, for the love of God, let me take you to see your doctor. Let me get you the help you need.”
He didn’t understand. He never would. She’d always be something for him to fix and leave when things got too rough. She was done with being treated like a child. There was nothing she could say to change his mind, she could see that now.
“Mark, baby. How much longer are you going to be? I’m starving.” Helaine swiveled at the smooth voice, catching a vibrant green dress, long brown hair, and a startled gaze.
Helaine was puzzled by the crooning tone. The woman’s face seemed unfamiliar until a spark of the past returned. Mark had introduced the young constable to her months before their break-up, before she lost her baby. She wracked her brain. “April, right?” The woman stared from her to Mark.
Wait a minute. Mark, baby? Was this woman seeing Mark? The thought sent fire racing through her veins. Up until meeting Creed, she’d been blindly holding on to the hope they’d get back together, that somehow, their love would see this through. Now, she felt like a damn fool.
“April, honey. I thought you were meeting me at the café?” The way he spoke, so kind, hit Helaine like a blow.
“Sorry to barge in like this. I’ll just wait for you in the lunchroom.”
Her dress billowed slightly as she turned and then settled against the curve of a stomach that started under her breasts. The arc ended low in her abdomen. Helaine couldn’t breathe. Someone reached into her chest and wrenched out her heart. “You’re pregnant?”
“Fuck. I was going to tell you, Helaine. I just… didn’t know how you’d react.”
Mark’s words meant nothing.
She focused on this woman, on the glow in her cheeks and the way her hand fluttered to her belly. “How far along are you?”
April’s eyes widened. She glanced to Mark for answers, but Helaine wanted answers of her own. Her voice became a growl. “How far along are you?”
The answer was brutal. “Seven months.”
Helaine exhaled in a whimper. She reached for something, anything to stop her from falling. Seven months, seven months. She shoved herself toward the doorway. This was a mistake. Her shoulder smacked the door frame as she barged past and broke into a run.
“Helaine, for fuck’s sake, come back! Helaine. Helaine!” Mark called from behind her, but there was no going back. Her mind raced as she flew down the stairs. Numbers crowded her head as she counted backward. Just over six months ago, she’d lost their son. Six months of pain and heartache. No wonder he’d taken their loss in stride. Mark knew he was going to be a father all along. Just not with her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The evening sky above Sydney was the color of blood and old pewter. Creed’s heart felt just as heavy. More endless hours spent searching for the Corrupt’s lair, only to come up empty-handed again. Failure sat on his chest like unwanted armor. His job was to lead, to find the source of the demonic infestation, and cut off its head.
So why were his thoughts centered on Helaine instead?
In the seat beside him, Loc shifted his massive weight. Creed felt another pound of guilt with the motion. He’d asked his brother to risk his life to save that damn cur, for her.
He supposed Loc thought saving the fucking dog gave him the right to stick his nose into his business. It’s everyone’s business. I brought her into our home. He ignored the tiny voice.
“Blood on the moon.” Fate’s words sent a shockwave through Creed. There’d been blood on something else, too. Blood on him, after he’d been with Helaine. Was that from her slight body trying to take his girth, like he’d thought, or was it from a different, but equally womanly reason?
The light changed. Impatiently, Creed punched the button to turn off the air conditioning. He lowered the window, needing to feel the night. Their next destination lay two kilometers ahead, but the wind whispered through the close-set buildings. The sound reminded him of something. Of soft moans, from a woman enduring the pain of a lunar cycle.
Fuck. If that’s what’s going on, it will only remind her of her loss. He turned right. At the next corner, he turned right again.
“Quitting time already?” Heath asked, his lilting voice an octave higher than usual.
“Waste of fucking time,” Creed snapped. “Calling it a night.
His brothers fell silent. Miracle of miracles, even Fate held her tongue while he pushed the SUV through the familiar back streets, heading for the warehouse.
Like the moon that hid behind charcoal clouds, he couldn’t see Helaine, but he felt her pull. Her pain. She needed him. His big words from earlier, when the cop came by, rang in his ears. I’d never leave you. He knew what she faced, had been through what lay ahead of her, and he’d walked out anyway, to do something that seemed less possible by the day.
“Just give me two hours.” He slid the vehicle to a stop and leaped out, leaving the engine running. Someone else could park the damn thing. For all he cared, they could continue the hunt without him. This night wasn’t for the Corrupt. It was for Helaine.
He took the stairs two at a time. The scent of jasmine hit him long before he reached the corridor where the bedrooms lay. He didn’t have to search to find her. Four massive paws marked the spot. Creed stepped over the beast and pushed the door open.
The moon peeked from behind a cloud, showing him a form curled into a ball. Her sobs were silent, but his soul quaked along with the slender, shaking shoulder bathed in faint moonlight.
Two long strides took him to her side. He flung back the blanket and scooped her into his arms. She wound he arms around his neck. She pressed a damp cheek to his. Her skin felt like it’d burn him alive.
“You came back.”
“What happened?” he murmured, turning for the door. “Tell me.”
He had to listen intently to make out her words. “He h-had another. Another wo-oman. Ano-other c-child.” The last word tailed off into a wail that cut him deeper than any blade.
Creed clenched her to his chest, striding down the hallway. He kicked the door to his room open and laid her on the bed. “Just let me put my blades away. I’ll be right back.” He brushed her hair from swollen eyes.
She turned her face away. He gripped her chin and forced her to look at him. “Stop. You don’t have to hide your pain from me, Helaine.”
Her eyes held him now, but he backed away. Peeling off the blades took a minute. Placing them in their cupboard took another. Then he crawled into the bed and pulled her onto his lap. Stroking her hair, he commanded, “Tell me everything.”
“Her baby’s fine. That’s why he ignored me while I grieved for mine. Sent me off to a hospital. Left me t-to be cared for by strangers. Because he still had h-his child.”
With each agonized sentence, her voice hit a higher pitch. On the last, near-unbearable note, the door burst open. The dog gave him a baleful look. She stroked the huge head until the dog landed beside the bed with a thump that shook the floor. The spot where her tears soaked his shirt bore the weight of sea water, pressing on his heart. Creed visualized his hands around the detective’s throat. His hands tightened on Helaine’s waist, tugging her closer, wishing he could siphon her pain into his heart. That couldn’t hurt worse than hearing her sobs.
I’m going to kill that bastard. Kill him and cut out his heart. Every fiber in his body cried out for blood, but he made his strokes down her spine gentle. He didn’t stop to reason out why this woman he barely knew affected him so deeply. Some things weren’t to be known. He’d accepted that long ago. She was here. She’d breached his wards. She was meant to be here. He saw that now. He may be a killer, but she’d been brought here for him to heal.
Something he had no idea how to do.
“You must think I’m crazy.” Her choked whisper was thick with tears. She raised her head to stare into his eyes.
An idea the cop forced into her head. Creed vibrated with anger, but he kept his tone soft. Her bewildered whisper told of her sense of alienation. By all the gods, do I ever understand that.
“You’re not crazy. Everything you’re feeling is normal. Normal for one of us, anyway.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “Let it out, Helaine. Let it all out. Give me your pain. Let me take it.” He’d rather walk into the Corrupt’s nest bare-assed naked than hear her cry, but he smiled.
