Every Breath You Take

by Taylor Lee

  “H-how? How were they killed?”

  “Honey, this is the hardest part. It’s bad enough that they were killed, murdered. But the bastards who did it tortured them—all three of them—before they died.”

  Barely feeling Jake’s strong arm around her, Lexie fought to swallow the bile surging up in her throat. For a moment, she thought she would vomit. Or faint. If she couldn’t get her breath, she might.

  As if from the end of a tunnel she heard Jake’s voice.

  “Breathe, Lexie. Take a deep breath. That’s right, Darlin’. Like that. Here honey, take a sip of water.”

  Shoving at the glass of water Jake held out to her, Lexie closed her eyes and took several deep anguished breaths. Looking up she met Brady’s gaze. His eyes were filled with pity. Seeing the same expression on Peter’s face she latched onto Master Wan’s face. She prayed that somehow he’d refute the terrible news, but his somber gaze cut through her like a knife. Dan Rourke’s face was as pained as the others.

  She didn’t recognize her voice when she spoke. It was tiny, shaky.

  “Are you sure it’s them?”

  Dan Rourke answered. “Yes we are, Lexie. My officers in the District found them this morning. I… we had some of their DNA from when they were arrested last. I’m sorry as hell but they are ‘our’ girls.”

  Lexie stared for a long moment at the big man, one of the toughest men on the SFPD and one of the kindest. Of all the police that she had worked with, Dan was as outraged as she was about the blatant crimes happening virtually in full view of the city governing structure, including the police. The red rims around his eyes spoke more loudly than anything he could say.

  She found enough spit in her mouth to speak.

  “Where are they?”

  Jake’s arm tightened around her shoulder.

  “They’re at the morgue, Lexie.”

  Lexie swallowed as best she could then hoisted herself up and tried to stand. She clutched the edge of the table as a wave of dizziness swamped her. Jake’s big arms encircled her and gently pulled her back down into her chair.

  “Lexie, sit down. Here, honey. Drink some water. You’ve had a terrible shock.”

  Lexie shook her head and shoved Jake’s arm away.

  Lexie squeezed her eyes shut. If she could have she would have put her hands over her ears, like a child trying to shut out the words she didn’t want to hear. She turned to Dan once more begging him with her eyes to deny what had happened.

  “Dan, are… are… you sure? Are you positive that it is Mee-Yon, and Bong-Cha, and Sun-Hi?”

  The long-term hardened policeman’s voice cracked. “I’m sure, Lexie. And, honey, I’m sorry as hell.”

  Jake put the glass of water in her hand and pressed her fingers against it then gently eased her back into her chair.

  “Take a drink, Lexie. It’ll help.”

  Lexie sipped on the water. But she couldn’t swallow. The golf ball sized lump in her throat was too big. Just saying the girls names brought their faces back to her. She remembered when she and Dewa videotaped their stories. Their soft, frightened voices. The pain on their faces. The bruises and scars on their bodies. The hideous tales they told in matter of fact sing-song voices. They wouldn’t look at the camera. They’d only look at her, because they trusted her.

  A fresh rush of anguish flooded her. Dear God, what had she done? Because of her they were dead, tortured to death. All because she wanted to show the world what was happening. To make the City Council, the Mayor, the people of San Francisco understand what was taking place before their eyes. What they were condoning and allowing. She dug her fingernails in Jake’s arm needing to hold on to something or she would fall. While it would be easy to blame the awful men who had exploited the girls and killed them, ultimately it was her fault. She was to blame. The young damaged girls had trusted her.

  And then she came up against the hard wall of her grief. She couldn’t deny what she had done. She allowed herself to admit it. Admit that in order to make her point, to get enough attention in the press, to make a big enough splash, she also had exploited these young girls. She had used them as blatantly as the cruel industry that sold their young bodies to as many as a dozen men a day.

  Her head felt too heavy to hold up. She put her arms on the table and rested her forehead between her hands. Jake rubbed the back of her neck, murmuring softly.

  “It’s okay, Darlin’. It’s okay. Just keep taking deep breaths.”

  “I killed them. It’s my fault.” She whispered the words, but they sounded like clanging bells, like sirens wailing out the hideous truth. She was as responsible for their deaths as the men who killed them.

  All the men spoke at once. They disagreed, insisted that she was wrong. But she knew better. Her need to be heard, to insist that the world accept responsibility for what they were doing, had killed Mee-Yon, and Bong-Cha, and Sun-Hi.

  “No, stop! All of you!” Glancing up at them, her anger flared. They knew but pretended that they didn’t. Underneath their pitying expressions, they knew she was responsible. “You don’t understand. You’re wrong. I needed them. I needed them to show the world what was happening. I used them, goddammit! Don’t you get it? They were like pitiful animals in the zoo that were being abused. I put them on display. I used them to get the zoo keepers to clean up their cages.”

  Lexie’s chest tightened more. Getting a breath took a conscious effort. She didn’t know how much longer she could talk. Remembering was painful enough. She forced herself to continue. To accept her responsibility. She glared from one to the other of the men. She needed to make them understand.

  “You don’t get it do you?” Her voice was harsh. “They didn’t want to talk. They were afraid. But I convinced them. Because I needed them. I needed to put on a good show. I couldn’t tell their story—not nearly as well as they could. No, a white woman who has everything couldn’t possibly tell their story as poignantly as they could. They were so much more real, so pitiful, so visceral. They made such… good television.” Her voice trailed off, caught in a sob.

  Jake sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself.

  “Lexie, honey. Don’t do this.”

  He tightened his grip on her knee. He rubbed her neck with his other hand. His voice was soft, gentle. But she didn’t want his condolences. She didn’t want to hear her friends try to reassure her, deny that she was responsible. Slowly her anguish turned to rage.

  Lexie rose to her feet and shoved Jake’s hands away. She glared from one to the other of the men. Their concern only made it worse. The truth bubbled up in her throat. She choked back the bile that threatened to strangle her. They knew. Their pity was clear.

  “You know I’m right. I insisted that the camera catch their faces so that the audience would see how young they were. If I hadn’t insisted on them talking to me, they wouldn’t have been killed.”

  They were all frowning at her but she didn’t care. She didn’t want their concern, their pity. It just made it worse. She shoved back her chair and moved away from the table. Once again they were trying to protect her, shelter her. Just like Jake always did.

  “I’m going. To the morgue. I’m going to see all the young women that I killed. That I killed as surely as those awful men.”

  Brady gasped. “Jesus, hotstuff. Don’t even think about it.”

  Lexie heard the concern in his voice and forced herself to look at him. Except for Jake, Brady was her best friend, the person who could always make her laugh, who knew what she was thinking, and was always there for her when she and Jake were tussling. But today he seemed like a stranger. How could he not understand how she felt?

  Peter compounded her dismay.

  “Alexis, this is a terrible thing that has happened. The men who killed these young girls are monsters. They wanted to send you, send us, a message. They wanted you to know what they are capable of. And Alexis, they are capable of horrendous atrocities. You already know that, seeing them isn’t necessar
y.”

  “You’re wrong, Peter. And so are you, Brady. I need to go. I need to see them.”

  All four men rose to their feet. Jake was at her side.

  “Lexie, baby. Please listen to me.” His voice was soft, consoling. The pain in his eyes was almost as powerful as her anger. For a brief second she wanted to throw herself into his arms, beg him to hold her tight and make it all go away, but her rage took over.

  “Don’t, Jake. Don’t try to stop me.”

  Peter broke in. “Alexis, please don’t do this. I am as responsible as you are. We all are. I helped you videotape those girls. I arranged for the meeting before the Council. Alexis, that meeting was a sensation. You did more in that one hour to help those girls than all the rest of us had done in months, years. You—”

  Lexie held up her hand. She didn’t want to hear Peter’s rationale. It was a rationale that would have made sense yesterday or even this morning. But not now. She didn’t want to hear his calm, cultured voice excusing what had happened. His patient, controlled understanding made it worse. She turned her fury on him.

  “Stop, Peter. Damn you! Just stop.” Peter startled and pulled back, his frown deepening. Lexie’s anger was a raging storm-filled stream. A torrent of rushing water determined to take out everything in its path. “You kill every day, don’t you, Peter? Killing, murder is just part of the game you play, isn’t it? In your line of work, it’s one more weapon in your scary tool bag. The ends justify the means. Right, Peter? And if a few Korean whores have to die in the process, so be it. They’re expendable. It’s too bad if they get in the way. Unfortunate, but the price we pay. Because you’re after the big prize, aren’t you, Peter? Young-soo. Damn, Peter, I can’t blame you. You get him and you’ll be more of a legend among the spooks than you already are.”

  The twitch beside Peter’s eye was the only sign that her ugly words had hurt.

  “Lexie, stop.”

  Jake’s hand on her arm was as firm as his voice signifying that he had gone into his commander mode. If he’d thrown gasoline on a fire it couldn’t have caused a bigger explosion. Her rage was overpowering. It blotted out the concern on their faces, in their voices. She broke free and backed away from Jake. She needed distance. She couldn’t bear his touch. She whirled on him.

  “And you, Jake. You and Brady.” She spun to include her best friend in her fury. She almost didn’t recognize her own scorn-thickened voice. “How many people have you killed over the years? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? Damn, between the two of you I bet it numbers in the thousands. Well, sorry boys. I’m a hell of a fighter but I guess it’s time to ‘fess up. Like everything else about me, I only fight for show. My kill count is miniscule compared to you guys.”

  She paused, her words stuck in her throat but she pushed them out, insisting that they hear them. “Until today, that is. Now I can add three more to my list. How should I mark it? How do you guys keep track? Notches on your belts?” Seeing the concern on her friends’ faces, she tried to rein in her anger. “You’ll have to excuse me if I seem a little rattled. A little hysterical. You know how we women are.”

  Jake sighed. For a moment Lexie was consumed with horror at what she had said. She couldn’t believe that she’d turned on the men she loved, showering them with such hateful words. Jake saved her. Ignoring the awful things she had said, he became who he’d been through the years. A former Colonel in the United States Army, a legendary Green Beret. He was a hero, a leader of men, a commander. The image he conveyed couldn’t have been more clear if he’d donned a uniform covered with the myriad medals and decorations he’d earned.

  “Lexie. Sit down. Please. Now. We are a team. While you can’t accept the truth yet, you will. The men who killed Mee-Yon, and Bong-Cha, and Sun-Hi are responsible for their deaths. But many others also have a responsibility. And yes, we all played a part. You, me, Brady, Peter. And so did the girls. They played the part of the victims in this hideous ongoing atrocity. Victims who, with your help and the rest of our team, will no longer be anonymous, unheard voices. You courageously started the process and now as a team we’re going to finish it. Do you understand?”

  For a moment Lexie almost gave in, let go of her rage, allowed sanity to return to her agonized brain. But old lessons kicked in. Instead of hearing the truth in Jake’s words, she chose to hear the command. His insistence that they were a team, that there was no room for ‘lone rangers’ like her, only ignited her rage.

  Her heart was pounding, her legs were shaking, but not from fear or pain, rather from outrage.

  Her voice dripped with scorn.

  “Oh right, we’re a team. Of course. As long I do everything the mighty Jake Gardner tells me to do—including not feeling badly that three young girls have been tortured to death. I just need to accept it. Do as I’m told. Like a good little girl. The team will handle this. Right? Is that what you’re saying, Commander?”

  She was three feet away from Jake but the intensity between them flashed like lightening in a stormy sky.

  Jake’s voice was soft, dangerous.

  “That’s correct, Lexie. The team will handle this and you are a critical member of the team. Together we will find out who did this and together we will take them down. More important we will find the men who gave them their orders and hunt them down like the dogs they are. And we will do it as a team.”

  Lexie sneered. “A team, right? With you in command?”

  Jake’s gaze held her as strongly as if his arms were tight around her.

  “Correct. On both counts.”

  Lexie’s hands tightened into hard fists at her sides. She willed her chest to release at least a small breath so that she could get enough air to do what she needed to do. Her voice was as soft as Jake’s and she hoped as dangerous.

  “In that case, Commander, this team member is going to do what the rest of the team has already done. I am going to the morgue. To see the girls. To see how they died. To see what I and the rest of the team have done.”

  Her voice shook. Tears burned the backs of her eyelids. She did the only thing she could do to keep them from falling. She threatened the man she loved.

  “And so help me God, Jake, you are not going to stop me.”

  A flash of anger washed across his face but it was quickly replaced by something more powerful. His love for her almost brought Lexie to her knees. Almost. Lexie saw Jake glance at Master Wan and give an imperceptible nod.

  Jake gazed at her from half-lidded eyes. His words were a soft command. They didn’t allow for disobedience.

  “Get changed, Lexie.”

  “Why… where are we going?”

  “To the morgue. I’ll get my bike.”

  Chapter 3

  Lexie stood by Mee-Yon’s table. She’d have thought by now she would’ve been prepared. This was the third body she’d examined. If anything it was worse. The butchers must have gotten careless. Maybe they had more yakju than they could handle. The burns not only had destroyed the young victim’s face but left deep crusted holes in her chest. Her collar bones were visible beneath the ropey scars.

  Unable to stop her stomach from responding, Lexie gagged and wretched. Bending over at the waist, she gave in to the powerful involuntary reflex. Jake was at her side. He held her head and put the basin under her chin. The way he had before. She’d vomited so many times she was astonished that there was anything left. She tried to signal her brain, her gut. But neither listened. Apparently they couldn’t stop responding to the horrific sights.

  She didn’t know how many minutes had passed, it could have been an hour or more. Through the fog in her brain, she heard Jake’s voice.

  “Say good-bye, Lexie,” he said tenderly. “It’s time to go, Darlin’.”

  Lexie started to protest but the words stuck in her throat. She nodded instead. She chided herself. Told herself that she should look at each body one more time to say good-bye and to make sure it was a sight she never forgot. But even in her distraught state, she knew that
wasn’t necessary. She would carry their hideous faces to her grave.

  ~~~

  “Lift up your head, honey.”

  The cool air and the sound of traffic on the busy thoroughfare confirmed that they were outside. She allowed herself a cautious breath gratified that the air smelled like gas exhaust and fast food. Not formaldehyde or burned tissue or, God forbid, hydrochloric acid.

  Lexie lifted her chin and allowed Jake to strap on her helmet. He picked her up and set her on the GT, the goddess throne, as he’d renamed the bitch seat on his Electra Glide. Swinging one strong leg over the fender, he mounted the bike. Jake yanked out a pair of handcuffs from the side pouch and carefully slipped one cuff around her wrist. He put her arms around his waist and fastened the other cuff on her free wrist, ensuring that she was held securely in place, her arms wrapped snugly around his waist.

  The cuffs were an erotic joke between them. A statement that she wasn’t going anywhere until he could get her underneath him. Often they took the cuffs with them to their lover’s lair to explore another mountain peak in their outrageous lovemaking. But today the cuffs served a more elemental purpose. Without them she would have fallen off the bike. There was no way her rubbery arms and legs could’ve held on.

  ~~~

  Jake pulled up to the Jai Li Center. The dojo comprised the front half of the sprawling structure. The home where Master Wan and Madam Juen and now she and Jake lived was in the back. Along with the rigorous schedule of martial arts lessons, the center was the home of her nationally known Strong Women Survive program. She’d started the program after her brother Anthony was killed. Along with Master Wan and Jake, the program was one of the ways that she’d managed to survive Anthony’s murder. Barely. After today, the words seemed like a hideous irony. How could she teach other damaged women to survive and yes, thrive, if she couldn’t?

  “Put me down, Jake.”

  His arms tightened for a moment, then with frown, he set her on the ground.

  “Are you sure, honey? I wouldn’t mind wrapping you up in my arms and taking you back to our quarters. How about it, Darlin’? A bath or maybe a long shower—especially if I was in it with you—sounds damn good.”