Wicked Ways (Dark Hearts Book 1)

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Wicked Ways (Dark Hearts Book 1) Page 17

by Cari Silverwood


  “You too. I learned, watching you. You’re a perfect case of –” She halted, obviously caught by the realization that she’d nearly crossed that patient, doctor line again.

  “Not a problem. I enjoyed my stay.”

  I’d have set back advances in suicide prevention by decades, if she’d used me as a test case. Because I was cured wasn’t I?

  Going home was as healthy as smashing my face into bricks.

  Yeah, I wasn’t normal. I couldn’t face cleaning up my house. The mess in there... Stepping in the front door had panic climbing up through my throat in seconds, piling higher, higher, until I had to step outside and shut the door or scream.

  Fuck. Even in death Reuben was doing a number on me.

  I’d wait for Amelia, somewhere else. The park, of course. I think subconsciously I needed to see that park bench again and to look for clues. Had it been Grimm? Was that seriously possible? And if not him, who had done it?

  My bench was no longer inviolable. Someone had decided the small graffiti needed embellishing and the entire bench had been destroyed, as if by a sledgehammer – warped and bent out of shape, with the slats sprung loose at one end. The council had built a temporary plastic safety fence around it to warn parents to keep children away.

  “Damn,” I murmured, but I walked closer and hopped over the fence. Though the paintwork was completely gone in some places, next to where I’d written KILLeR there was another small word.

  done

  Well then. That seemed to point a big red arrow at Grimm Heller. Who’d have thought it? I had, and yet I hadn’t, quite, believed it. So Grimm was my hero? I wanted dearly to plant a medal on the guy. I shouldn’t go near him though, not until the murder investigation faded.

  In a fog of internal reflection, I walked slowly back to my house, where I sat down to wait. Never judge a book by its cover, or a man by his tattoos, his history as a bouncer, and his somewhat dominant male aura? Or name. Grimm was a man of many talents. Murder was one.

  What should I think of a man who could organize a multiple hit within a few days? That he hadn’t come to collect a pound of flesh; that he’d simply performed as I asked him to – that must be in his favor?

  A word scratched into a bench wasn’t absolute evidence. Maybe it wasn’t him.

  “Zorie?”

  I’d been so immersed in sitting on the side steps, thinking, and hugging my knees that I hadn’t heard her taxi pull up.

  I swung around. “Amelia?”

  “Yes!” She dropped her small suitcase.

  The girl was looking pretty, with her dark auburn hair in a shoulder-length cut that managed to show her curls off as neat yet wild. I wasn’t sure how she did that. I returned her hug, amazed at how narrow her waist was beneath the linen dress.

  “Thank you so much for coming.”

  “Not a problem. I’m getting you happy before I leave. Hope you know that?”

  “Sure.” I hugged her again, smiling with my chin on her shoulder. “Absolutely.”

  Amelia did her best.

  We cleaned up the house, bought new stuff to replace the old. Cooked meals, reminisced over everything except my recent events because she figured it was best for me, and she was right. I’d had enough of people examining what had happened – not that my tongue would work when it came to the deeper truths. I smiled over her many pictures of her family though I ached inside to see how well her life had worked out. Even before Reuben, mine had been stagnant. Except for Grimm...I’d almost made something happen there.

  My sister was a whirlwind of energy compared to me, but three days was a tiny amount of time when you’re busted up inside.

  As predicted, three days from when she arrived, I waved goodbye to her at the airport and turned away to go find my car.

  Who was I now? What had I become? I had a few more pills to take, but after that the structure was gone. My body was feeling the fatigue of not understanding where I would be resting my head in a year’s time.

  I came to the conclusion that going to psych had been exactly where I should’ve gone, but now it was time to haul myself up by my bootstraps...whatever those were.

  I’d told Susan Blade and Amelia that Sandra was going to come over regularly, but she wasn’t. I wasn’t someone she should associate with. Though my orgy hadn’t ended up on YouTube, some text messages I’d received had confirmed gossip was circulating. Being the good friend of a psycho slut, as I gathered I was being called, was the last thing Sandra needed.

  So, my next helper wasn’t who I’d thought it would be. Which should have been no one.

  On the same steps I’d sat on waiting for Amelia, was a big man with tattoos. Grimm Heller awaited me.

  Facing him was...scary. He was the past, while I wanted to aim for the future and, I’d never been three feet away from a multiple murderer before.

  If he’d done it?

  He must have.

  With my graffiti, I’d begged him to kill Reuben, but seeing him now, knowing he’d carried through? It was the weirdest feeling of dislocation.

  The man was like living evidence of my guilt, my horrific past, my failure, and he was my savior too.

  I still wished I’d done it. Would it have scarred me for life? Probably. Would I have died doing it? Very likely. It was a dream but a dream that left me wrestling with the concept that this was still unfinished business. I’d always regarded closure as a cool buzz word. Now I knew.

  Closure for me was putting a bullet in Reuben’s head or a knife in his heart.

  I was never going to get that, was I?

  Chapter 31

  “There are darknesses in life and there are lights, and you are one of the lights, the light of all lights.” - Bram Stoker

  Grimm

  My theory had gone something like – don’t go see Zorie for a month or so because the police might be watching her, and if they see me near her, they might watch me, and then somehow put the facts together. The wrench in my careful plan had been thrown by Sandra telling me how miserable Zorie had been and then that she thought no one was going to be around to help her get over the blues.

  More than anyone else, I think I understood why Zorie was upset, and it wasn’t because a loving husband was dead. It was because of what he’d made her do and how he’d wrecked her life. University began soon but in the meantime, I was free to go say hello. If she let me get closer than that, big win. I’d be happy. If not, I could just be someone for her to lean on until she was ready for more.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” Her smile lit up the surroundings, and since we were out in the sun on her front patio that was something else. Blue dress that swirled and clung to her shape, little shoes on her feet, and that red swirl of hair to complete her look. Zorie had a beautiful look all her own, even when that smile collapsed.

  “Need a hug?” I stood up slowly and made no advances, just waited to see if it was agreeable. “No strings attached. Just thought you could do with one.”

  Though she sucked her lip in, then she nodded and that mouth quirked as if she might cry any second. I held out my arms and she carefully came forward and rested her arms around me.

  I felt and heard her sigh.

  “Thank you. I need a hug.”

  “Yeah.” I just hugged her too and squeezed her a little now and then until she stepped away.

  “You do great hugs.”

  I nodded. “Any time. I came by because I heard you were going to be alone and...I really think, considering everything...” I was trying to hint without being exact. I really had no idea if the cops might somehow be watching us or had bugged her house. It just wasn’t a good idea to slip up.

  “Considering everything, yes.” Again with that rueful smile. “I hate to admit it, but you were right. If you weren’t here, I’d be collapsed in a corner right now.”

  I actually hadn’t thought she’d be that bad. Zorie often seemed strong on the outside. “Have you had lunch yet? How about we get something to e
at?”

  “Sure. I was wondering, though, if we could go for a walk first? There’s a park down the road.”

  What was she up to? Was I finally going to get the whole story? She’d have to tell me sometime and a café was a bit public. For once we could both sit on that bench together and talk.

  “Come on.” She beckoned and half skipped down the steps, her ass swaying under that dress, her calf muscles all toned and making me want to run my hands up under her dress.

  Damn. She was ill. I needed to quiet down and stop thinking of kissing her on that park bench.

  We would be close though, as close as that hug which, if I was honest, had almost given me a hard-on all by itself. If she didn’t get better fast, I was going to have a pair of blue balls.

  Chapter 32

  Zorie

  Hugging Grimm had been like hugging a big brother. Not that I had a brother, but I could guess. It had felt completely platonic. I’d stood there molded to him, to his solid male body, with my arms wrapped around him. A wonderful peace had settled into me, filling in the cracks in my anarchic life. One long, wonderful moment before I’d slowly awoken as to how different this was to when I’d been with him in the café. No sexual appeal, no tingly stirrings in my body.

  Zip. Zero. Nothing.

  Maybe it was just the trauma? It probably was. I simply needed time to figure out myself.

  The plastic fence was still around the bench. I guess the council needed to order in a new one and schedule the work, and so on.

  “Wow. Someone did a number on this. Park bench rage?”

  “Yeah.” I’d actually wondered if he’d destroyed it to try to get rid of the evidence of me organizing the hit. A ludicrous idea, I suppose. What we’d scratched could never be evidence unless someone had filmed us doing our graffiti each and every day

  I climbed over the lopsided barrier and hoped Grimm would follow. Saying anything precise about Reuben or mesmers still wouldn’t get past some bottleneck in my mind. How did I ask if he’d killed Reuben? I put my finger on where it said KILLeR and looked at him.

  He nodded then quietly said, “Yeah. Whoever did all this must’ve done this vandalism too. Then he leaned over and put his finger near where mine had been and he underlined done.

  I swear my heart skipped a beat. Grimm had killed Reuben.

  “Jesus,” I whispered. It took me a few seconds of staring into his eyes to ground myself again. If he was a killer by proxy, and I was fairly sure he’d not done this personally, he was still a man who’d risked a lot more to help me than anyone else I could think of.

  I reached up and put my arms around his neck to hug him. He turned it into a kiss. Embarrassing, but I stuck with it. I let him kiss me and toy with my lips, until he pulled away with his arms still embracing me. He searched my face, looking for some passion, I suppose. Then he let me go.

  “Sorry. I’m pushing this too fast.”

  “It’s okay,” I said quietly. “I think I’m still numb inside. I’m very grateful for your help, Grimm. I would rather you be here than anyone else. Anyone.” It was true. Even my sister had made me feel shockingly dirty and stupid at times. She’d been told details, I’d found out. Some of those I’d never have said to her.

  Grimm nodded then helped me over the barrier and drew me by my hand toward another park bench further around the lake. Not ours, I thought, as we sat, but it’d do.

  The water, the friendly ducks that were flying across the water toward us, splashing and quacking indignantly, because they obviously thought we had bread, and the blue sky above – it helped me breathe deep and relax.

  If nothing ignited between us, ever again, if I couldn’t feel anything more than friendship, I was certain he’d be polite and give up. Grimm was that sort of man.

  However Mister Black was different.

  Grimm engulfed my hand in his. “It’s nice here. I’m taking you to a nice movie tonight too. You need to figure out normal again.”

  A date? A low-key one though. “Which one?”

  “Zombie chicks on Mars?”

  I snorted and giggled. He squeezed my hand.

  “Still can’t talk about you know what?”

  The clamp came down on my head and I blanked for a second.

  Shit.

  “No.”

  He grunted. “Might be for the best. Just remember, it’s over now. No one can hurt you. Want some good news? I don’t know if anyone has mentioned this to you yet, but I know a lecturer in law who whispered this to me.”

  “What?” I was totally puzzled. He meant Sandra?

  “They say you’ll inherit all of Reuben’s money. He had no relatives left that he hadn’t pissed off.”

  That last was not surprising.

  “He had no one close who was related. You’re going to be a double figure millionaire at least. I think I just gave away my reason for kissing you. Do not ask me how I know this or I’ll have to terminate myself.”

  I sat forward and turned to stare at him. “No way! And I mean no way to both. I trust you.”

  His mouth tweaked upward but he ducked his head a fraction. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  “Mmm.” Then I kissed him all by myself. Just a small kiss.

  “So, girl. You’re safe, you’re rich. You have got a lot to look forward to.”

  Safe. Except for Mister Black. And I couldn’t tell Grimm about him.

  I blinked and thought about possible ways to avoid Mister Black. He’d said he’d come back for me if I succeeded in killing Reuben. Well, I sort of had achieved that, if in a very roundabout way. He mightn’t care about my methods. What could I do? I’d had enough of men trampling on my wishes.

  I needed a contingency plan.

  The heat radiating from Grimm, his sheer bulk next to me, and knowing that when the shit hit the fan, he just kept on going... An idea percolated through.

  Damn, maybe I could?

  “What would you say if...” I frowned. This was asking a lot of him.

  “What?”

  “I owe you, but I also need a bodyguard. Don’t ask,” I added quickly, hoping to stave off blanking out if he asked the wrong question. “I would like to employ you for a year. One hundred and twenty thousand? I don’t know what librarians make.”

  If I was a multi-millionaire, I could afford this, easily.

  Grimm coughed. “Librarians? Not that much. You’re serious? Not going to tell me why you feel you need a bodyguard?”

  I nibbled on my mouth, feeling that block looming just there. “Serious, yes. And no, I can’t.”

  “Uh-huh.” He stroked his thumb over the top of my hand while he thought. “Sure. I can do that – be your bodyguard. Happily.” Then a real smile arrived. “It’s possibly my dream job.”

  “Good.” Mister Black couldn’t coerce Grimm. Now I felt safe. I tapped his chest. “The other thing. Us? I can see you want to see if that will...” I paused, this was so awkward.

  “Shhh. We’ll take each day as it comes. No rush, remember?”

  I nodded.

  Then he captured my tapping hand and trapped it against his chest while still holding my other one. For a second, I panicked before I reminded myself this was only Grimm.

  “Great. I’ll just be your bodyguard, who gets to kiss you now and then, and maybe, one day, I’ll end up in bed with you.”

  That jarred. Bed. It was a mental step too far for me, but I let it slide. He was a good man and it was probably just me, seeing bad things when it was nothing. I would be awhile before I didn’t jump at loud noises or men putting hands on me unexpectedly.

  My mind was a shambles at night.

  I had a wasteland of memories that I wanted to scrape up and pour onto a garbage heap, so as to be done with them. Having Grimm share my days and be nearby at night, it saved me. Really it did.

  No sex, no passion, but we were both happy to wait.

  I had a need to know for sure that Grimm had been the person who orchestrated Reuben’s de
ath but it took me weeks before I could say it to him. Not in public, of course. Not at home even, just while out for a walk along Bondi Beach.

  “Was it you? Really? Did you really do it?”

  He shot me a disturbed glance then looked around, as if checking no one else was close. It’d been so long. I guess I’d surprised him.

  “Reuben?”

  “Yes.” I held my breath. The waves coming in and the sea breeze made background noise and I would rather not breathe than miss his answer. We took a few more steps before he stopped and faced me, took both my hands in his.

  “Yes. I organized it. Do you want to know details?” Then he shook his head. “No hard evidence, just my words. Nothing exists that I can show you.”

  Wow. Did I want to hear?

  “Zorie?”

  The blood, the guts, the words he cried out as he died? I knew the where and the weapons. “I hated him more than anyone should hate anyone,” I said slowly, still thinking, and I came to a conclusion that surprised me. “No. I don’t want to hear. I just needed to know for sure it was you.”

  “I thought as much. I never saw you as someone who’d want to wallow in this. It’d make you feel worse, not better.”

  Probably. Sickness had welled up inside me when I contemplated having Grimm tell me the story of Reuben’s death. I’d leave it be. Just knowing it was definitely Grimm – that put a concrete, solid floor on this. Which felt good.

  “Thank you,” I added, quietly.

  He only nodded.

  That conversation was a book end to a part of my life that was over.

  Once the inheritance from Reuben was finalized, I decided we should go north for a holiday. There’d been no sign of Mister Black returning and I almost wanted to see him, just so I could tell him to piss off and leave me to live my life.

  I had the money to pour into investments and property and I did so, after selling my home and Reuben’s. A million went to a few of my favorite charities. It didn’t make me feel any better but it’d surely help someone out there. I employed an investment manager, left most of the decisions in her hands, and I went up the north coast of Queensland, searching for places where we could have fun and I could shed the last of my terrors.

 

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