I’m not being a hard ass about all of this. Shelda’s got some soul searching to do. I’m beginning to think none of this is Amaya’s fault. It’s a gamble, but at this point in the investigation I’ve got nothing left but my gut instinct, and I think it’s about time I go with that. This guy’s pissed at Amaya for helping Shelda get off the streets, but his vendetta is with Shelda, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself to stay sane.
The phone ringing pulls me from my thoughts, and I put it on speaker so Amaya can hear what my partner, Caine, is saying.
“I put a rush on getting DNA—didn’t need it though after I ran the prints through the system. It seems our boy had been picked up for solicitation. All your girl had to do was go down to the strip and pick up a john. I ran his name through NCIC—the National Crime Information Center, and he was reported missing three days ago.”
“She’s going to an awful lot of trouble to throw us off. What I can’t figure out is why she involved Amaya in all this.”
“I think you need to talk to the mother again. She may not realize it, but I think she knows where the kidnapper is. Even if she doesn’t, she does know his stomping grounds. We need to tear these streets up until we find him.” I hang up from talking to Caine with the agreement we’ll split up and question people in the streets about where Freddy is. One thing criminals hate is heat from cops. It fucks up their money flow and they usually end up talking. The way they see it, it ain’t snitching if nobody knows they talked.
“The question is: How does this john tie in? Maybe he was a john that one of Freddy’s girls had been with. It would make it easy to call him under the ruse of setting up a date. I hope like hell these two didn’t start out with kidnapping and are enjoying killing now. Once someone develops a taste for blood, it goes much deeper than revenge does. It’s pretty drastic to kill a man just to send us a message.”
“Well they couldn’t very well cut off his fingers and then leave him alive. How ironic that Angelina is safe in the arms of a killer. It’s anybody who has had contact with these two in the past that isn’t.”
I direct my next statement to Amaya. “That’s the problem… you aren’t safe, because you pose the threat of taking the one thing that psycho loves—his kid.”
What I’m not telling Amaya is I’m willing to kill to keep her. Maybe I need to reevaluate how I’m dealing with this situation. Perhaps, instead of trying to catch a killer, I need to pursue killing a killer. I’ve never wanted to put my gun in someone’s mouth and pull the trigger, until now…
Chapter Seventeen
Amaya
“You’ve got to get your head together, for your daughter’s sake. This isn’t about me, it isn’t about you, it’s about Angelina. I believe this john’s death isn’t coincidental. We need every hangout of Freddy’s that you can think of.”
“There’s some old warehouse he used to go to and tweek for days at a time. He had a bunch of televisions in there and he’d always work on them when he was high.”
“It’s called frankensteining,” Trace says from where he’s listening in on the conversation.
“Oh my God… you can’t be serious. The thought of my daughter being with him while he’s smoking that shit infuriates me. I’ve done so much to try and shield her from my past, and all of it was for nothing. She’s still paying for my mistakes.”
“What’s the address?”
I watch Trace as he begins doing a search on his phone after she gives it to us.
“Oh my God, what if they have my daughter in that warehouse with a bunch of junkies?”
I can see she’s working herself into a frenzy, and that’s not going to help the situation. I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now. I would be crazy if it was Chase.
“I never thought about it, Trace, but we need to be asking where his girls live. Find out who his number one girl is and where she lives. Maybe they’re shacked up in a house somewhere. I can’t imagine them having a kid in a dope house. The meth heads wouldn’t be able to deal with a kid crying. They’d run them out for blowing their high. I don’t think you need to worry about her being around a bunch of tweakers, Shelda.” I’m trying to make her feel better, but what I’m saying is the truth. Meth heads are notorious for having bad nerves.
“I just don’t understand why they had to kill a man to send a message to you, Amaya.”
“Freddy’s still pissed I helped you get off the streets. He’s also pissed you kept his daughter a secret from him and I helped you do it. Maybe killing that guy was his way of sending the message that he’ll do anything, like scare us into thinking he’s nuts.”
“There was no way I was raising my daughter in the drug culture.”
“You hid the pregnancy for a good reason.” It’s me who had no right to keep Trace’s son from him. I wonder if I’ll ever get over the guilt. Regardless of how guilty I feel, the thought of Trace talking about marriage scares the hell out of me. What scares me is I think he’s serious about not taking no for an answer.
His voice cuts through the wave of guilt I’m feeling. “I’m taking you home and I want the babysitter to come get Chase. I don’t want to take any chances with him being there and them knowing where we live. You stay here, Shelda, and wait to hear from us. We could very well be bringing your daughter home to you today.”
“Are you going to find her house?”
“I’m hitting the streets to find out her last known address. I wish I could take you with me, Amaya, but there’s no way. The department would have a shit fit if they knew I took you on a case. Caine’s meeting us at my house.”
“Just bring Angelina home safe.” I hug Shelda goodbye and she assures me she’ll stay put and wait to hear from us.
He waits until we’re in the car before he continues answering my question. “We don’t know if this kid’s in one of his girl’s houses but it’s a starting place.”
“Yeah, they know everything about us and we know nothing about them. It’s like all my secrets... all my past just reared its ugly head and revealed every secret I’ve ever had.”
“Won’t it be easier to not live under a shroud of secrecy? It can’t be easy living with secrets. How many times did you think about telling me about my son?”
“Every time I looked at him and saw you, Trace.”
He pulls me towards him and I can feel the determination coming off of him in waves. “I meant what I said about marrying you. Don’t make me get ugly about my parental rights. I forgave you for hiding him from me. I won’t forgive you if you try to take him from me again. You’ve got no choice. When this case is over, you will marry me and give me my family back. I want this case to be over so we can move on with our lives. You’re on Freddy’s radar and I don’t like it.” I push down the nagging feeling that has been plaguing me since the beginning of all this. Is Trace putting these two behind bars going to be enough to keep my family safe?
I’ve never felt like I wanted someone dead so badly. Death is the only way I’m ever going to feel safe. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever tried to figure a way to cause someone’s death and get away with it.
The guilt of keeping my family apart for all these years is enough to work through. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to them because I had so many secrets. Yeah… I would kill to keep my family together. I’ve turned into the same monster these killers are, just for a different reason.
Trace
“Well, you didn’t waste any time getting her back in your bed.”
“I’m all about second chances.”
“That’s bullshit. Anybody else who has crossed you, you wrote them off.”
“I tried, but I couldn’t do it with her. This time I’ve made up my mind I’m not letting her go.”
“Well, what are you going to do, kidnap her and hold her hostage if she tries to leave?”
“Damn straight I will. She’s going to marry me. I’m not losing her, and I’m damn sure not letting some guy come
in and raise my son.”
“I did not hear that. This place looks vacated,” Caine notes when we pull up in front of the address we got from questioning street people. Brenda Brannigan was who everybody said. They went so far as to say that any trouble he ever gets into, he drags her right along with him. I just want this shit to be over so I can take my woman and son and start over. Yeah… this time I’m all about second chances.
“Don’t knock on the door. Let’s look through the windows and see if we can see anything.”
We make our way to the front windows and get a clear view of a sparsely furnished living room. I nod my head towards the backyard to let my partner know where I’m headed.
When I get to the back of the house, I have a clear view inside, and what I see shocks me. “Caine. Get back here, quick.”
He comes running around to the back of the house and he’s just as shocked as I am. I’m prepared to break out the window, but when Caine pulls it up, it opens.
I lower myself in and make my way over to where a little girl is asleep on the floor. A surge of fear goes through me when the thought that she may not be alive goes through my mind. I must have grabbed her a little too fast because she cries out when she sees me.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m taking you to your mommy.” I soothe her by rubbing her back, and it tugs at my heartstrings when she pops her thumb in her mouth and nuzzles against me. I know someone who is going to be very happy to see this little girl. I know I sure as hell am.
I push away the thoughts of Amaya taking off again now that we’ve found the girl. Of course, there’s always the lawman’s alternative. My partner’s right. I am crazy enough to make her stay. There’s no sense in having a set of handcuffs and not putting them to good use.
Chapter Eighteen
Amaya
“I’m certain that boyfriend of yours will just think you ran off again. I doubt he’ll even look for you. He’ll probably just give up on you. You stuck your nose in everybody’s business. I saw that kid of yours and he looks just like that cop. That tells me you had some secrets of your own.”
The words sound like they’re coming from somewhere distant—like I’m in a dream state. I attempt to open my eyes so I can put a face to the man’s voice. The last thing I remember is answering the door and being stuck with something. I guess I thought it was Trace coming home.
“It’s the drugs I gave you. I haven’t made my mind up if I want you dead or alive yet. I’ve carried a grudge against you for a lot of years.”
“I don’t know you. What I do know is no kid needs to be raised by the likes of you. I did what any decent person would do and got Shelda off the streets, so she could give her daughter a life.”
When he lunges at me, snarling in my face like a rabid dog, the adrenaline pushes past my drug induced stupor. I shake my head in disbelief when I look into the face of a man who has blood in his eyes. It’s Freddy, and I never thought he’d do something as crazy as coming to a cop’s house. I recognize his face from mugshots I’ve seen of him.
“And who made you judge and jury? You didn’t even let that cop see his son. You’re a fucking liar. You’ve hidden so many secrets for everyone else that you don’t know how to be honest anymore. It wasn’t your place to decide if I was worthy to raise my kid.”
“You’ve been stalking me. You kidnapped Angelina to get to me. You didn’t take your daughter because you want to raise her.”
“I’ve often wondered if you went into the line of work you did because you were trying to hide your own past. Looks like I was right. Burying people’s secrets, and hiding their nasty little skeletons in the closet, it takes a certain kind of person to do that. You run from things. You hide things. You can’t stay in a relationship. It seems to me that you have issues because of your own fucked up life. I’m going to make you face your demons just like I’ve had to face mine.”
“You’re not going to make her do anything. You’re right about your demons though. Because today’s your day to go to hell.” I’m shocked when I look up and see a woman holding a gun on, not me, but Freddy.
“You’re supposed to be back at the house watching my kid.”
“Brenda, how did you get in here?” I ask, in an effort to divert her from shooting Freddy in the middle of Trace’s living room.
“Dumbass over there left the door unlocked.”
She directs her attention back to Freddy. “I’ve thought about it a lot, and the only way to keep that precious little girl safe from men like you is to kill you.”
She turns and questions me. “You’ve got a kid that lives here, right?”
“Yes, I do, and that kid’s dad is a cop.” Maybe that fact will scare her enough to get the hell out of here before Trace gets back.
“I don’t want your kid coming home and seeing Freddy’s brains splattered all over the floor. I made sure that little girl got home safe. I left her at my house and waited until they found her.”
“How’d you know they were coming?”
“One of the girls on the street called me and told me the cops were asking questions. I knew after that they would be coming.”
“Come on, Freddy. It’s time for you to meet your maker.”
“You dumb bitch! You just ruined our chance of getting money for that kid.”
She looks at me before she walks him out the door with a gun to the back of his head.
“See what I mean? He never cared about his own daughter. It’s the only way for her to be safe. I’m doing the right thing by killing him. Now he’ll never be able to come back and ruin that little girl’s life. I’ve spent my life being a terrible person. Now, at least I can do one good thing before I die.”
I wait for the feeling of satisfaction to hit me. I thought I wanted them both dead so I never had to worry about them coming back to haunt us. But now, I’m torn between not wanting to see them dead and hoping he doesn’t escape the barrel of her gun.
I can’t deal with anymore secrets. Letting her kill him without trying to stop it isn’t the way I want to start my new life. I’ve spent years hiding people’s secrets. It’s time to stop. Trace is right. I need to make a change. Maybe I need a new job.
When I’m sure they’re gone, I grab my phone before I can change my mind and dial up Trace.
“Trace, something really bad is getting ready to happen. Freddy was just here and Brenda took him out at gunpoint. I think she’s going back to her house to kill him.”
“So that’s why she left Angelina alone in the house, so we’d find her? Why does she want to kill Freddy?”
“She said it was the only way to make sure he doesn’t ruin Angelina’s life. I have to agree with her.”
“And yet you called me to try and stop it?”
“Yeah Trace. I did. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time to stop having so many secrets.”
“I hate to say it, but I hope we’re too late and she blows his fucking brains out.”
“Well at least I can feel better about feeling the same way.”
“Like I said: and yet you called. I’ll call the station and have them send someone over. Caine and I are taking Angelina back home and then I’ll be there. You and I have some things to talk about while our son’s at the babysitter’s.”
I can feel my heart racing already. I don’t know what he has in mind, or worse yet, what’s on his mind. The case is over, and now I’m left to wonder if he’s going to make good on his threat. If I know Trace like I think I do… he is.
All my skeletons are out of the closet, and now it’s time to pay the piper. I just hope Trace is still in a forgiving mood. If he wants to be an asshole and take me to court over Chase, he can. He’s a cop, which means he knows judges. Factor in I’ve been lying for years, and I have a snowball’s chance in hell. It looks like I’m getting married whether I want to or not.
Chapter Nineteen
Trace
“Oh, I’m looking forward to this.”
“Trace, handcuffing
me to propose, seriously!?”
“Absolutely, love.” I trail my finger between her breasts and watch as goosebumps appear. “I never get tired of making you mine, but I need forever.”
I place the rock I bought her in my mouth between my teeth and touch it to her lips. When she tries to take it with her lips, I pull back. I move my mouth to her fourth finger on her left hand and slip it on.
“This way you can’t say no.”
“I don’t want to say no anymore. I want us to be a family.”
“I want to see you come. I want to watch your face up close and personal. Spread your legs, baby.” I watch her face as I slip my fingers in her folds. There’s nothing like watching her eyes flutter back in her head and knowing I’m the cause of bringing her pleasure.
“You’re mine, baby girl. For the rest of your days you’ll carry my name and my heart.” Her hips move in time with my fingers. I can’t take my eyes off that beautiful face of hers. Hearing her say my name over and over like some mantra of bliss is like a drug to me. I want to take back all the years we’ve lost together. There’s no anger, no need for revenge, only love.
“Tell me you love me, girl. Tell me you’re mine, and that you’ll be mine until the day you die.”
“I do love you, Trace,” she cries out, as her body releases all the tension we’ve gone through in the last month.
I undo her hands from the handcuffs and fold her legs back never removing my eyes from that beautiful face of hers. She opens her legs up, inviting me to come in and take her. My thrusts are brutal, the lust of a man undone. She doesn’t just belong to me, I belong to her, and we belong to each other.
Her fingers rake down my back as her hips buck, meeting my every thrust and taking all I have to give her. We melt into each other, becoming one, and the thought hits me when I climax—I want another baby. I want a second chance to raise my child from day one.
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