The Girl I Didn't Kill For (Jessie & Nick Book 2)

by Annabelle Costa

  In another minute, I’ll be unconscious. The blackness is already descending on my vision.

  And then, without warning or explanation, Seth releases me and steps away.

  I start coughing violently. I lean forward and retch while Seth laughs at me. It’s a horrible laugh that I’ll never forget for the rest of my life. I wish he were dead. If I had a gun right now, he would be.

  “That’s what you get,” he says, “for being a dirty little slut.”

  “Fuck you,” I manage through my gasps for air.

  My eyes are watering badly and all I can think is I need to get the hell out of here. Seth could start choking me again any second. Or he could decide it would be fun to burn me and cut me with a knife. I have no idea what he’s capable of. All I know is I will never return to this apartment ever again.

  I manage to work the locks with badly shaking hands. Seth is still laughing, and I know that if he desired, he could stop me from leaving. It takes me three tries to turn the lock and get the hell out, my legs still rubber underneath me. I race down the hallway to the elevator, then at the last second, decide on the stairs. I need to put distance between me and Seth as quickly as possible.

  It isn’t until I’m safely in a taxi, headed in the direction of Nick’s building, that I burst into tears.

  Nick

  When the doorman informs me that Jessie is downstairs, I get worried.

  She’s supposed to be at dinner now with Seth. She’s supposed to be breaking up with him. So why is she here? It’s obvious something has gone wrong.

  All I can think is she changed her mind. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  My heart is thudding wildly in my chest when I hear the doorbell ring. I yell for her to come in, bracing myself for whatever it is she has to tell me. Even if she doesn’t want me, I’m gonna take it like a man. I won’t beg. This is her decision.

  Then I see Jessie. And everything changes.

  “What the fuck happened?” I manage.

  Jessie pushes past me, wiping tears from her blue eyes. Her eyes are swollen from crying, but it doesn’t hide the bruise starting to develop on her left cheekbone—the clear result of a right hook. She’s going to have one helluva black eye.

  But that’s not the part that makes chills go down my broken spine. It’s the marks on her neck. Angry red marks that will eventually turn purple. Someone had their hands on her neck. And they were squeezing as hard as they could.

  “He was choking you.” I can barely get the words out, I’m so furious. “That asshole was choking you.”

  She nods silently.

  I try to wrap my head around what just happened. He tried to kill her. Maybe he didn’t mean to actually kill her, but whoever made those marks on her neck wasn’t messing around. I don’t know how she managed to get herself out, but I realize that there was a very real chance the only woman I ever loved could be lying on the floor of her shitty apartment right now, all the life squeezed out of her.

  She could be dead. And there wouldn’t be a goddamn thing I could do about it.

  Seth Parsons is going to suffer for this. I’ll make sure of that.

  “I’m going over there,” I say.

  “No.” It’s the first thing she’s managed to say since she walked in. “Nick, you can’t.”

  There’s nothing she can say to convince me otherwise though. When we were in high school, a guy named Evan Thompson got fresh with her on a date and she narrowly escaped. She tried to convince me to stay away, but I found Evan at a party and beat him half to death. I was angry that night, but I’m angrier right now. I need to find Seth. I need to look him in the eyes and tell him what’s going to happen to him if he ever so much as breathes on Jessie ever again. And give him a little demo while I’m at it.

  “I’m going,” I say. “That’s all there is to it.”

  She reaches out to grip my arm. Her eyes aren’t just bloodshot—actual blood has leaked into the whites of her left eye. I can’t believe he did this to her. “Please, Nick. Seth will…”

  I know what she’s getting at—I’m not stupid. Seth is an able-bodied guy with fury fueled by alcohol. And I’ve got obvious physical limitations I didn’t have when I beat the shit out of Evan Thompson. But lucky for me, I’ve got a great equalizer.

  “Don’t worry,” I assure her. “I’ll be fine.”

  A fresh wave of tears flow from her blue eyes. “Nick…”

  “I’ll be fine,” I say again. “Don’t worry.”

  I can tell she doesn’t believe me.

  Admittedly, it might be a dumb move on my part to go over to see Seth. I’ve got people who can pay him a visit and do everything he did to Jessie and then some. And even though the gun will protect me—I did target practice with Tony only a few weeks ago and I feel very comfortable with it—there’s part of me that’s worried I shouldn’t have a gun when I’m around someone I’m as furious with as I am with Seth. After all, when I went to see Evan all those years ago, I hadn’t intended to beat him up. I was just going there to talk—like I’m doing right now.

  Still, I know I got enough self-restraint not to shoot a guy unless I want to.

  I want to watch him beg. I want to take out the gun and tell him that I’m going to shoot him in the balls to pay him back for nearly choking Jessie to death. I want him to cry. Yeah, I got guys who could make him feel real pain, but that will be them. I want to do it myself. Just me and that asshole.

  “Don’t go, Nick,” she pleads with me.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” I tell her.

  I believe it when I say it. I really do.

  Chapter 35

  Nick

  I drive over to Jessie’s apartment building, armed with the code to open the front door. I know leaving my car out in her shitty neighborhood is a risk, but it’s not that late and I don’t expect to be there long. For good reasons, I need to be in and out of there fast.

  I pull into a space near her building, and get myself into my chair. Of all the times I wish I were still able-bodied, now is one of the times I wish it the most. I want to walk into that apartment and beat the shit out Seth with my bare hands, like I did with Evan Thompson. But I can’t fight good enough to do that anymore.

  Which is why I got a gun strapped to my chest.

  When I get in front of Jessie’s building, I see the keypad mounted to the wall in front of the door, and the first thing I notice is it’s mounted really high. I hold onto one of my wheels for support, and stretch to reach it, and… I can’t. I can’t reach the goddamn keypad. Why the hell is it so high?

  I rub my knees, taking deep breaths to calm myself. Maybe this is a sign I should turn around and go home. After all, things aren’t going to get any easier from here.

  “Do you need any help, young man?”

  I rotate my head in the direction of a crackly old voice. There’s an elderly man with tufts of white hair protruding from his scalp standing behind me, a concerned look on his wrinkled face. All I need—witnesses.

  “I’m visiting my friend,” I explain to the man. “But I can’t reach the intercom.”

  A smile splits the man’s features. “Please let me help you.”

  The old man turns out to be a big help. He not only gets me into the building, but it turns out they got one of those old elevators that has a door you have to open before you get inside. Without him holding that for me, I’d have struggled with it. He even holds it when I get out on Jessie’s floor.

  “Is there anything else I can help you with?” the old man asks as het holds the elevator door for me. I can tell how much he gets a kick out of helping me. Old people love helping someone more impaired than they are.

  I shake my head no. Actually, I could use his help when I’m leaving here. But I can’t ask that.

  The hallway on Jessie’s floor is dimly lit, thanks to several blown out lightbulbs. I hate the idea of her living here—what a dump this place is. She’s never gonna go back here. That much is certai
n.

  When I get to Jessie’s door, I hesitate. I check the holster on my chest briefly to make sure the gun is easily accessible. It’s loaded, but the safety is on, and I have no intention of using it other than as a prop. I’m not gonna shoot Seth. That would be dumb, and I’m not dumb. Not about things like this.

  I knock on the door because the doorbell is just as ridiculously high as the keypad was. I wait for a good minute before I knock again, more insistently this time. Like a cop would knock.

  No answer.

  On a whim, I try the door. The knob turns and I’m able to push it open. Guess he was too drunk to turn the lock after Jessie ran out. Well, that works in my favor. I’ll get the element of surprise.

  Except as it turns out, I’m the one who gets the surprise when I see what’s inside Jessie’s apartment.

  Seth Parsons is already dead.

  Chapter 36

  Nick

  Holy shit. Seth is dead.

  I never seen a dead body before. I know that would surprise some people. I know they think of me as a hood and figure I’ve capped my share of mobsters. I know what kinds of shit they say about me, but it’s not true. Well, some of it’s true, but I never killed anyone. I never ordered anyone killed. And I sure as hell never saw a dead body before—at least not one that wasn’t embalmed at a funeral parlor.

  Even so, I have no trouble knowing Seth is dead. He’s lying on the ground, his jaw hanging slack, his eyes cracked open and staring up at the ceiling. There’s a single bullet hole on his forehead and blood has leaked out of the back of his skull, out onto the carpet, forming a substantial crimson puddle.

  It takes me a second to recount all the facts in my head. First, Seth nearly strangled Jessie. Second, she came over to my apartment, bruised and crying. Third, I go off to Jessie’s place and a neighbor sees me enter the building. Fourth, Seth Parsons is gonna be found shot to death.

  This doesn’t look good for me.

  I back up a few inches, but now I see the extent of Seth’s blood on the carpet—it’s fucking everywhere, and when I came inside, I rolled into it. The only thing more incriminating than a bloody footprint is a goddamn bloody tire print. But there’s blood all over my wheels now. There’s no chance of cleaning it off short of a hose miraculously appearing in their living room.

  I back up further, wincing at the tracks of blood left by my wheels on the carpet. It’s bad enough that my fingerprints are on the doorknob, but this is far worse. I can’t fix this right now. Maybe I can get one of my guys to come in to do damage control. But right now, I need to get the hell out of here.

  If I were trying to escape without being seen again, the stairs would be the smartest option, but not really an option for me. I could do one flight, but six would probably attract more attention than anything. Except when I get to the elevator, I realize it’s not going to be so easy. I look at that heavy door to get into the elevator and groan. This is going to be a pain in the ass.

  “Do you need help?”

  I look up. Another neighbor is standing next to me. A woman this time—middle-aged and pudgy. She smiles down at me pleasantly.

  “Yeah, thanks,” I mumble.

  She holds the door for me. I wheel into the elevator, and that’s when I notice my wheels are still coated in blood. The dark red blood tracks onto the light gray floor of the elevator, and the lady’s eyes widen.

  “Sorry,” I say, struggling to smile benignly. “Wheels got a little dirty.”

  She looks down at the tire marks on the ground, a perplexed expression on her face, but she gets inside the elevator with me. She can’t recognize it as blood—no way. But the cops won’t have a problem at all. They aren’t even going to have to try to pin this one on me. I’m just feeding them evidence. This lady will probably be identifying me in a lineup in a day or two.

  When I get back in my car, I finally feel safe to call Steve, but I take a minute to collect myself. I don’t know who the hell killed Seth, and more importantly, why. He was a lawyer, but he didn’t have any big clients. He didn’t deal with anyone in the mob—if he had, I would’ve known about it. He was nothing—nobody. Why would somebody ice him? And why now?

  While I’m thinking about it, I hear the sirens.

  And now I’m really shitting bricks. Somebody already called the cops. And they’re concerned enough to have the sirens going. It looks like the time to call Steve is already long gone. The police are going to show up and find my prints all over the goddamn apartment.

  But one thing they don’t need to find is Jessie staying at my place. That will be the final nail on my coffin.

  I’ve got to get her out of there.

  Jessie

  It’s about an hour later when Nick returns from talking to Seth. I feel a rush of relief when the lock turns and I hear him entering. I would never say it to his face, but I was really scared about what might happen in there. I was terrified that Seth might do to Nick what he tried to do to me. I know Nick acted like it was impossible, but…

  Well, never mind. He’s back. Everything is fine.

  Except Nick doesn’t look so fine. When he wheels himself into the apartment, he looks incredibly pale. He doesn’t have any bruises, but his usually olive skin is white as a sheet. Before he sees me, he puts his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands. I can tell by the way he’s taking deep breaths that he’s upset.

  What happened between him and Seth?

  “Nick?”

  He lifts his face from his hands, and stares up at me, his dark eyes glassy. He doesn’t smile.

  “Everything okay?” I ask.

  He runs a shaky hand through his hair. I’ve never seen him shake like that. It frightens me. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” he says, although I don’t believe him for a second. “But… look, I think maybe it’s better you don’t stay here. I called Chrissy and she said you can stay with her.”

  “Oh.” That’s the last thing I expected him to say. “Why don’t you want me to stay here?”

  “I do want you to stay here.” He’s squeezing his knees with his hands so hard that his knuckles turn white. “I just… I think it’s better maybe… just for a few days…”

  He’s keeping something from me. That much is obvious. Nick is never like this—he’s usually so smooth and calm and collected. Something obviously happened at the apartment. I can’t even imagine what. I look Nick over, trying to make out if there are any bruises I can’t see. But there’s nothing.

  “What’s going on, Nick?” I ask.

  He heaves a sigh. He lowers his eyes and looks down at his lap. “Jessie…”

  That’s when my cell phone starts ringing. I miraculously had it in my pocket instead of my purse when Seth came at me, so I managed to hang onto it (unlike my wallet). I pull it out of my pocket now and see an unfamiliar number. Probably a telemarketer.

  Nick looks like he’s got something important to say and the last thing I want is to get interrupted by someone conducting a phone survey. Yet… I still remember the night my father died, and how the call had come from an unfamiliar number. So I pick up.

  “Hello, is this Jessica Schultz?” a deep male voice barks into the phone.

  I frown. “Yes…”

  “My name is Detective Brodsky,” the man informs me.

  “Oh,” I say. “Um, hi.”

  I look at Nick. He’s watching me carefully, but he doesn’t seem confused or surprised. I get a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “I’m sorry to inform you, Ms. Schultz,” the detective says, “that we discovered the body of Seth Parsons in your apartment. He unfortunately was shot to death.”

  It takes several seconds for the news to hit me.

  The body of Seth Parsons.

  Shot to death.

  Oh my God…

  The police officer is saying something else on the phone but I can’t hear it. My legs give way beneath me and I barely ma
ke it to the sofa. I feel like I can’t breathe. Seth is dead. He’s been murdered. Shot to death.

  I look at Nick. He’s still staring at me, but it’s obvious he knows exactly what the detective is telling me. He already knew Seth was dead. Nick went off to our apartment in a fury, probably carrying a gun, and now my former fiancé is dead.

  “…come down the station?” Detective Brodsky is asking.

  “Huh?” I say.

  There’s a pause on the other line. “Are you all right, Ms. Schultz?”

  “I’ll be okay.” I allow my eyes to meet Nick’s. “I’m just… shaken.”

  “I understand,” the detective says. “However, with these cases, time is of the essence, so if there’s any way you could come to the station so we could talk to you, that would be very helpful. Obviously, we want to catch whoever did this to Seth.”

  “Yes,” I say, “of course we do.”

  When I hang up the phone, Nick is still staring at me. God, I don’t want to believe he did this. I want it to be anyone else but him. Maybe the gun fairy paid a visit to Seth after I left. Not Nick—not the man I love.

  He can’t be a murderer.

  “I didn’t do it, Jessie,” he says softly.

  He’s telling me what I want to hear. He’s saying the right words, but I’m struggling to believe him. “Did you know he was dead?”

  There’s a long silence. “Yes.”

  “Shit,” I breathe.

  “You have to believe me, Jessie,” he says. “Seth was already dead when I got there.”

  “Are you carrying a gun?”

  He doesn’t answer. That’s an answer in itself.

  “So what you’re saying,” I say, “is that someone just coincidentally shot Seth at the same moment you were steaming mad at him over what he did to me and went over there with a gun?” I take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, but it’s all just a little hard to believe.”

  A crease appears between Nick’s eyebrows. It’s like something is dawning on him for the first time. “You’re right. Nobody would believe it.”