Mad Love (Guns & Ink Book 1)
Page 22
I pursed my lips.
“You’re protective of him. It’s the first spark of real emotion I noticed in you. I won’t do anything wrong to Klayton. I promise.”
“Caldwell. His name is Klayton Caldwell. He owns his own tattoo parlor. Guns & Ink, it’s called. In Denver. He lives above it.”
“Interesting. Do you mind if I give him a call and set up a meeting?”
The question was out of my mouth before I could understand it. “Can I come?”
He frowned. “I’d like to speak to him alone if you don’t mind.”
Blushing furiously, I nodded. “Okay. He left me here.” I bit down on my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling. “He doesn’t think he’s good for me. He thought I’d be better with my family.”
He nodded seriously. “I think Klayton sounds like a smart man. He did the right thing bringing you home. Major points in his favor.”
Was he keeping score? “Be nice to him. He’s the only person who kept me together all this time.”
He smiled with a promise in his eyes. “How old is he?”
“Twenty-seven.”
“A little old for you, don’t you think, Madison?”
His big brother act caught me off guard. And I thought he was fishing. “We weren’t dating, Mr. Hawkins.” I gave him a haughty look that only made him smile. “But no, I don’t think he is too old. I’m twenty. What’s the big deal?”
He shrugged. “You’re not in the right mind frame right now. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of you.”
“Klay would never.” I glared at him. Was this what Klay had to deal with all his life? This judgment?
“Let’s move on.” He knew when I was pissed. Smart man. “Tell me about Cat.”
“She’s Klay’s best friend. She works at Guns & Ink, too. She was, um, ah—”
“Raped too?” he supplied.
I almost shattered. Put that way, so raw and true, it felt like pain and fear were colliding. “Um, yes.”
“What happened to him?”
“The man who hurt her? I don’t know. Klayton beat him up, though. Bad. He went to prison for it.”
Brando quirked one brow in admiration. “Interesting. Let’s go over everything one more time.” When we had, he turned off his recorder and leaned back, finishing off his coffee. “I’ll give you a break for the rest of the day and call you tomorrow. Do you have a cell?”
“I did. I don’t know anymore.”
“I’ll check with your parents. Is that good with you?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
“There’s a doctor coming over in a few. I’ll wait for her report before I takeoff. I’ll be back tonight for patrol.” He gathered his things and rose, giving me a small knowing smile. “I’m proud of you, Madison. You’re a fighter. Your fight’s barely started, but the hard part’s over. You’ll beat him.”
The hard part’s over. I’d never thought of it that way. Because it wasn’t true. It wasn’t over. In my mind, it existed every single day. Replaying like a nightmare stuck on loop. The worst parts were on display for my mind to taunt me. We’re supposed to be a team, my brain and I, but lately, we were too broken to work together. I wanted free, but it couldn’t let what happened go.
“Madison?” a soft female voice said.
I blinked aware, looking over to find a middle-aged woman beside my mother. She gave me her hand. “My name is Doctor Billard. I’m here to give you a checkup.” She gave me a smile I thought was supposed to comfort me.
I looked at my mom for help.
“You have to take care of yourself, honey.” She took my hand and lifted me to my feet. “I’ll help you to your room, and then you let Doctor Billard take care of you.”
I didn’t fight, didn’t know how to. Mom left me alone with the doctor, who set her things up on my bed as I stood there awkwardly. The only thing that comforted me was her gender. When she asked me to disrobe, I did so in the bathroom and then came out in a gown she gave me. She asked me to lay down on the bed, to get the hard stuff out of the way.
“Open your legs, please.” She examined my lower half, prodding me with her gloved fingers. “Hard questions coming up. But I need to know. Did your attacker ejaculate inside of you?”
I wiped my tears away, feeling so exposed and empty I could’ve puked up the air in my lungs. “He used condoms every time.”
“Are you sure?” She wrote something down in her notebook with her free hand.
“Yes.”
“Only vaginal?”
I whimpered. “Yes.”
“What about other places, Madison?”
I shook my head. “Only there.”
“Were you a virgin, sweetheart?”
“No.” I talked into my hands as she swabbed me.
“It’s been how long since you escaped?” She placed her specimen in a tube and then set to wrapping it and marking it with tape.
“I don’t know. Over a month, maybe?”
She clucked under her tongue. “Have you had intercourse since then.” When I hesitated, she met my eyes. “Be honest.”
“No sex. Klay just, um. Oral sex only. And—” I couldn’t breathe. “His fingers. I’m sorry,” I blubbered.
“Madison,” she breathed, shaking her head at me. “No judgment, sweetheart. I want to know for your health. Your vagina healed from your attack.” She wrote something more down. “Do you have a therapist?”
“No,” I whispered.
“I’ll refer you to someone. She’s great, I promise. Let’s continue. Have you done drugs in the past thirty days?”
“Never.”
She didn’t react. “What about alcohol?”
“I had two beers, but I only drank like half of both.”
“Good girl,” she mumbled. “Do you have any pain when urinating?”
“No.”
“Discharge?”
“No.”
“Have you had your menstrual cycle?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“It just ended a few days ago.”
She looked at something and then scribbled down a note. “When did you get the tongue ring?”
“A week ago? A few days ago? I don’t know. Time is hard for me.”
“Clean it, please. Who gave it to you?”
“He owns a tattoo parlor.”
“Licensed?” Her expression was stern.
“Yes.”
“Okie dokie. That’s it for the invasive part. I’ll go change my gloves, and we can continue.
Thankfully, Brando was right in that case. The hard part was over. She examined my weight, my eyes, my mouth, nose, and throat. She searched my entire body, pausing when she got to my throat.
“Is that a bruise? It’s faint, almost gone, but the yellowing is there.”
“He choked me. Punched me too.” I couldn’t look her in the eye.
She restarted her examination, asking me where he’d hurt me, what he’d used, had he drawn blood? When I said he’d cut his knuckle on my teeth, her eyes shifted infinitesimally.
“Let’s take some blood.”
I found it interesting how unafraid of needles I’d become, when before they would make me faint. She took four vials of blood, deposited them all, and then snapped the rubber band off my arm. She had me urinate in a cup as well and then packaged it carefully.
“I think that’s it. Your weight is poor. Your malnourished and iron deficient. You should work on putting some weight on and getting yourself back to the healthy state you were before. I’ll phone with the results.” She began packing everything, and I scurried into the bathroom to put my clothes back on. “I have to share my report with the detective,” she said, all packed up. “A hottie, isn’t he?” She gave me a playful shove.
I gave her what she wanted, a smile, and shrugged. I could understand what she meant. Brando was handsome, but it hadn’t occurred to me in real time. I led her downstairs, finding my parents talking with my detective. He gave me a
tender smile when he spotted me.
“Ready?” he asked Doctor Billard.
“Quite.” She gave my arm a squeeze. “It was lovely to meet you, Madison. I’d like to see you again in a month. See how much weight you put on. I’ll make an appointment, and I’ll leave some pamphlets and sites for you to visit.”
“Thank you.”
Brando gave me a nod after saying goodbye to my parents. When we were finally alone, I collapsed on the sofa and curled into a tight ball while my parents stared at me with identical, helpless expressions.
Chapter Fifteen
Klayton
I stared out into my shop, feeling nothing.
I should be used to this feeling. It had been my life since I was a kid. But with Mad gone, I was too aware of my empty life, and that it was, in fact, missing something. And I had a feeling it had something to do with my blond houseguest.
The shop was full today. My eye ached a bit, but nothing that stopped me from joining in and taking care of some of the jobs. I was in the middle of working on a piece when the door opened. I looked over and saw one big son of a bitch walk into my shop. He smelled like a cop from a mile away. His hand on his hip, where his gun hid. His eyes cold, hard, and unafraid. He was easily taller than my six-foot-four inches. In his late twenties, a little older. He was young, and his hardness could be a show, but instinct told me he’d earned the right to be cold.
“Woah,” Cat breathed.
I looked to find her staring up at him the way I would a horde of panty-less underwear models. I smirked at her reaction, but she didn’t respond other than to blink at the huge goon. “Go take a break,” I told my canvas, rising and snapping off my gloves to approach him. “Can I help you?”
He looked me over quickly, head to toe. “I’m looking for Klayton Caldwell.”
“What’s going on?”
“Is that you?”
“Depends on what’s wrong.”
He extended his hand to me. “My name is Brando. I’m a detective.”
I took his hand, matching his grip with one of my own. “Then I guess I’m Klayton.”
He looked over my shoulder at something, frowning amidst his badass exterior. When I looked over, Cat was still drooling on the chick she was tattooing. He ignored her and returned to me, expression impassive. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
“About what?”
He looked me right in the eye. “Madison Hart.”
My stomach fell, my heart too. My legs struggled to hold me up. “Is she all right?” I grabbed his collar and shouted in his face. I’d break his fucking jaw. “Is she?”
He shoved me off easily, situating his shirt. “She’s fine, Mr. Caldwell. I just have some questions.”
I sagged in relief, bending over so my heart could breathe. “Oh, thank, God. Is she here?”
He shook his head. “Are you busy? I can wait.”
“Yeah.” I straightened up, running a hand through my hair. Everyone was looking at me. I could feel them. I refrained from firing them and got my shit together. “I’m in the middle of a cover-up job. I should be done in an hour. You can wait in the breakroom if you want.”
“Back there?” He nodded toward the open back doorway. “I’ll show myself. Get back to work.”
I stared after him and then turned to Cat. She was watching him go, her throat bobbing. Finally, she looked at me, mouthing “oh shit,” like we’d both somehow hit the jackpot. I ignored her and returned to my canvas, covering up a wedding date with a skull. I didn’t want to mess it up, so I pushed the detective from my mind, and like I’d been doing for the past couple days, I pushed Madi from my mind as well. Otherwise, all I thought of was her. Her absence gutted me.
“All done,” I announced, pushing away and pulling off my gloves. “Let’s go in the back for a minute.” I led her to the back bathroom and instructed her on washing her tattoo. After I collected payment and properly disposed of the tattoo supplies, I took a deep breath and went into the breakroom.
Detective Giant barely fit on my sofa. He was on his phone, staring at the screen intently as I watched him. The idea of this guy anywhere around Madi had me clenching my fists. But what could I do? I left her where she belonged. Watching her fall apart with her family was all the proof I needed to know that I wasn’t a part of her future. And I was okay with that. Being a part of her pain and earning her trust even for one night was worth the heartburn I’d had since I left her at home.
“Let’s go to my office,” I said, waiting for him to grab his suit coat and follow me. When we got to my office, I offered him the guest chair and sank tiredly down into my own. It had been hard to sleep the past couple nights. Not knowing if she was okay, eating, sleeping—safe. “Why are you here?”
He took a recorder and a notebook out of his bag. “I spoke to Madison. I’m taking it slowly with her, not wanting to dredge up too much too quickly. She mentioned your name a lot.” He met my eyes. “I wanted to speak to you to find out if you have anything crucial to add.”
“If it helps her, I’ll do it. Although I’m not fond of police officers.” I shifted uncomfortably.
“You did two years in prison. I imagine not.” He gave me a no bullshit look and set the recorder on my desk. “I looked you up, Klayton. Personally, I would have given you an award for beating that shithead up, but since you never told the jury why you did so, they had no choice but to convict you. Why? If you don’t mind me asking?”
I shrugged. “If I ever see him again, I want to keep beating the ever-loving shit out of him.”
He gave me a small smirk. “I won’t get in your way.”
His response confused me. Weren’t cops supposed to be anti-violence? But then again, Madison probably wasn’t his first case. After a while, rules started shifting.
“You mind if I record our meeting? I like to listen to them later, glean things I didn’t.”
I waved him on.
“Okay, first thing first. When did Madison Hart come into your life?”
The way he worded it made me smile. I pictured her gray/blue eyes, the frailness that surrounded her strength. “Some time in May, I’m not exactly sure when Cat showed up here with her. It was hard to keep track of time with her around. Some days she was good, rarely, but most she wasn’t, and she kind of just faded in and out.”
“What do you know about her disappearance?”
I met his gaze. “I know he’s around here. That’s why she didn’t want to leave.”
He nodded like go on.
“I read articles, so mostly that’s all I know. She didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to push her.”
“Did she say anything that you think could help lead us to her abductor?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you think he’s close by. Why?”
“Because she didn’t stop looking over her shoulder until I drove her to Boulder. She wouldn’t leave my house unless I forced her. She looked over her shoulder. If a man came into the shop, she freaked. Because it could be him. If that makes sense.”
“Have you looked for him?” Again, no BS.
“I’ve considered it. I drove around looking for places you could hide a woman for a month. But what good does it do when I don’t know anything?”
He nodded slowly like he’d done the same thing. “Did she describe him?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you anything at all about him?”
“No. If she did, I’d be in prison again.” I let that hang there.
He sat back, processing that. “You know, I could probably hang his ass up to dry far worse than you. Trust me, Klayton, I’d love nothing more than to rip his dick off and cram it down his tear ducts, but him rotting in prison is a lot better than you. Plus, Madison clings to the idea of you. You wouldn’t want to take that from her, would you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you’re her hero. Her strength is wrapped around the support you
gave her. I see it all the time in cases like this. She’ll need to lose that way of thinking to get better, but right now, she’s here because of you. He could have gotten her again on those streets. In her eyes, you’re the reason she’s alive. You take that from her, and you take her recovery.”
His words were a knee to the nuts. I couldn’t breathe around the feeling. I looked away. “She doesn’t feel that way. She should be her own hero.”
“I agree, she should, but for right now, you are. Stay out of my investigation. If I need your help, I’ll let you know. Now let’s talk about Madison’s behavior. What was it like?”
I bit back my retort. This was about Mad. Not me. “She doesn’t like men. Touching her, around her—she doesn’t want them. She didn’t talk a lot either. She’s apologetic. She thought she was a burden, and it pissed me off to no end. She can’t keep anything down, food wise. She’ll fade away for large chunks of time. Toward the end, she wouldn’t let me out of her sight.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. I missed her. “How is she?” I met his eyes, felon to cop, lost man to one searching for the man who broke her.
“She’s taken care of. She was examined by a doctor, by me. She’s set up with a therapist. She’s doing well, all things considered.”
“Should I stay away from her, or …” Can I see her? Can I touch her? Smell her? Taste her sweet soft lips? I bit down on my piercing to staunch the desire to grab him and shake the answers out of him.
“I think she’d like that.” He nodded at me with an amused smile. “I guess I know where she got her piercing from.”
I shrugged, not liking the idea of him near her tongue. “What about her ex?”
He frowned. “Leigh Statham? I wasn’t aware they’d officially ended their relationship.”
“He broke up with her that night.” I let that sink in. “She blames her father because he forced her to study, but it was her dipshit ex-boyfriend’s fault.”
“He never told me they broke up. Why would he lie about that?”
“There was no proof. It had just happened. He probably felt bad for being an inconsiderate twat.”
“Kid is a twat,” he mumbled under his breath, earning a breathless laugh from me. “I’ll stop by, give him a visit.” He stopped the recorder. “I think that’s all I need from you. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Caldwell.” He gave me his hand.