by Angel Lawson
Ari sat in one, Nick the other, and she said, “I fell the other night. It’s okay.”
Nick snorted. “She was involved in the shooting on City Street.”
“One of my clients is placed there,” Ari explained.
“We’ve got that guy downstairs waiting for his hearing,” Detective Morgan said.
Ari reached in her bag and pulled out Maria’s file. “I looked through everything and made sure it was up to date. I don’t think there’s anything relevant in there, though.”
“Can you tell me a little about her?” he asked, taking the file and flipping through it.
“She was a pretty good kid. She went to school because she was good at science. Maria was super smart, but boys and problems at home made it hard to focus. I know she took care of her younger sisters a lot. I’m pretty sure this is why she missed so much school.”
“I see she ended up in GDJJ custody because of truancy and chronic running away.”
“Yes. She’d been detained enough to cause concern from the court so they assigned her to us, but she was still technically in school and hadn’t committed any major crimes yet.”
Nick had a briefcase of his own and Ari was surprised when he extracted his own file. He opened it and offered it to Detective Morgan without showing it to Ari. “Juvenile court took these photos the last time she came in.”
Ari leaned over the desk and saw a photo of Maria, defiantly glaring at the camera. Angry, but Ari could see the glint of tears in the corner of her eyes. She stood in front of a gray cinderblock wall. Her hair was a mess, sticking out at odd angles and a smear of mascara rubbed under her eyes. But that wasn’t the alarming part. A large bruise splayed across her neck, mimicking the shape of long, slim fingers. Ari clenched the front of her shirt, knowing she had something similar to that on her own body—understanding the power it took to leave a mark so defined.
“When did this happen?” she asked.
“During her last detention.”
“How come no one told me?”
Nick shook his head. “Ari, I’m sorry. I didn’t know myself until I went looking for her file. But if you ask me, and I’m no detective,” he looked across the desk, “I’d maybe guess an abusive boyfriend? Family member?”
“Maybe so.” Ari thought back to all the times she’d been with Maria. Never had she gotten the impression she was being abused. Of course that wasn’t unusual. Victims were good at hiding. “She did have that pregnancy scare. I took her to the clinic. She said she miscarried but now I wonder…”
“Can I keep this?” Detective Morgan held up the photo.
“Of course. I hope it’s helpful,” Nick said.
“It could be. The attack has a personal feel to it. A boyfriend may be the right track.”
Ari tried to push away the bad feeling in her stomach but it wouldn’t budge. The past couple of weeks had been hard. Starting with the armed robbery, she felt like she couldn’t get away from all the negativity and crime. Curtis’s placement was the only high point in the last week and even that was tarnished. The dull ache in her chest and on the back of her head was a constant reminder.
On the way back to the car Nick noticed her mood and risked wrapping an arm around her waist. “You okay?”
“Not really.”
He nodded in understanding. “Anything I can do?”
Make it better, she thought. Make me feel alive. “I think I’m just tired.”
He leaned down to kiss her and warmth spread throughout her body. “I’ll drive you home.
Ari snuggled into the warmth of Nick’s wool coat. Okay, she thought. Maybe not everything about the last couple of weeks has been bad.
FOURTEEN
Nick accepted Ari’s invitation into her home that night. She didn’t push it—keeping it friendly, in the common areas. He helped her make dinner, including enough for Oliver when he finally straggled in around nine, beat from a long day of work.
“I know you make an okay salary, so I was wondering why you lived with Ari,” Nick said, taking the last bite of his dinner. “Now I know. That was amazing.”
Oliver rubbed his flat stomach. “She feeds me well.”
“Yeah, but Oliver kills spiders and mows the lawn,” Ari said.
“You two sound like you’ve been married for years.”
“Eh,” Oliver said, removing plates from the dinner table. They only used the table when they had company, preferring to eat on the couch. “She’ll be hard to replace, but I feel confident she’ll teach my wife how to make my favorite meals.”
Ari picked up the dishtowel and swatted him on the backside. “You wish.”
“I do,” he said, popping a kiss on her forehead. “If it’s okay, I’m gonna leave this to you guys. I’ve got a crap-ton of work to do before tomorrow.”
Ari followed him out of the kitchen and into the living room where he’d left his briefcase and a stack of paperwork. Nick stayed behind and continued rinsing dishes.
“What’s going on with all that? Late hours and extra work?” Ari asked.
Oliver gave her a mischievous grin and whispered, “I’m up for a promotion, but I’ve got to get this case prepared or it won’t happen.”
“That’s great!” she yelled before clapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry, why the big secret?”
“I just don’t want anyone to know in case it falls through.”
Ari looked over her shoulder at Nick. “Are you still being competitive? Because I think you have him beat out in the job department. No way a court-appointed attorney makes as much as someone with a massive law firm.”
“Nah, it’s just a big deal case and I’m not allowed to talk about it. He’ll ask too many questions.” Oliver ran a hand through his curly hair.
“Well, I’m proud of you. And good luck.” She gave him a fast hug. “We’ll keep it quiet out here so we don’t disturb you.”
“Out here or in there?” He nodded to her bedroom.
“Gross.”
“I’m just asking, because last time it was hard not to notice. Anyway, I like to know if there’s any chance of walking into a half-naked guy at 3:00 a.m.”
“Shhh!” The last thing Nick needed to hear was about how loud he’d been the last time he was there. When, of course, that wasn’t him. “You promised not to mention it and it’s not like I haven’t had that pleasure a million times.”
He frowned. “I’ve never had a half-naked dude over.”
Ari hit him playfully on the arm. “Stop it and go work.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When she entered the kitchen, Nick asked, “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, just roommate stuff.” She picked up a pot and began scrubbing it in the sink. “Thanks for coming over. Sometimes the job gets to me, you know?”
“I definitely know,” he said, standing behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. She felt his chin on the top of her shoulder, and his lips on her neck.
“That feels nice.” Ari could feel her heart rate increase with every kiss. She wanted more but Nick was always so gentle with her. So respectful. The fire in her belly craved something intense to drown out the sadness and guilt she’d been feeling.
She turned away from the sink, drying her hands on the back of his shirt. She reached for his face to pull him closer, to bring his lips to hers but he resisted, gathering her into a tight hug instead.
Ari buried her head in his chest trying to squash the feelings of rejection. Because that’s what it was, right? A rejection?
“Now that you’re home safe and Oliver’s here I’m going to head home,” he said, completely unaware of the turmoil Ari was going through. The frustration and longing she had for him—for something.
“Sure.” She dropped her hands. “Thanks for coming over. It was fun.”
Ari watched as he gathered his keys off the small table by the door and flashed her a quick smile before leaving.
* * *
The familiar buzz gr
eeted Ari when she walked in the front door. That buzz sent a shiver of anticipation down her neck. Immediately, she turned to the walls, looking at the artwork. This was ridiculous, of course. Ari always got the same thing, maybe a little varied in size or shading , but each one of her tattoos held the same design. A star.
“Hey girl, how are you doing?” Martin said from behind the small barricade, keeping the customers out of his work area, yet allowing them to view his work in process. He glanced up again. “Jesus Christ, what happened to your face?”
“Long story, but trust me when I say I didn’t get the worst of it.”
“That’s hard to believe,” he said. “This have anything to do with your visit?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
Ari got her first tattoo when she was eighteen. A star on her ankle, signifying her independence when she moved out of her home. It was also an act of rebellion, against her parent’s strict rules. The hum and sharp, specific pain of the needle proved addictive and she was back again in six months. That time to commemorate another first. Her first. Three weeks after that, she came in with a broken heart and added another star to the collection. The pattern continued for years. The road trip to New York City with her friends in college. Graduation. Her first job. The time she and Oliver made a bet and she lost. Her body became a road map of her memories.
“It’s been a while,” Martin said, coming around the corner. His hair was bleached super white. It had been black the last time she’d been here. Almost every inch of his body was covered in ink, except his face. He’d told her once that he and another apprentice practiced on one another. The early ones were terrible and led to other, more professional cover-ups over the years.
“Thought it was time to make a visit.” She hadn’t been in since her last one, the hardest one so far. Ari had asked him to make the mark extra dark, making the skin raw and bloody under the black ink. She’d just wanted to feel something that night—something other than the pain of her loss. This time, she was running from the rejection she felt from Nick. The only other option was Davis and that wasn’t an option. She’d ended up at the tattoo parlor instead.
“How you been holding up?” he asked.
“You know me,” Ari said with a shaky laugh. Martin was something like a therapist. Or a bartender. She spilled her secrets while in his chair.
“Where are you thinking this time?” he asked. Ari removed her sweatshirt and revealed a low-cut tank top.
“Maybe here?” she pointed to the middle of her chest. The purplish bruise was still noticeable. She wanted to remember it when it was gone.
“That looks pretty brutal. Accident?”
“Sort of. I was almost shot. That came from someone saving me.”
Martin nodded in understanding. “So where do you want it? Maybe here? The base of the palm?”
Ari looked in the mirror to see where he pointed and it was perfect. Right between her breasts, the center, anchoring part of her body. “Yes. I like that.”
“Let me get this ready,” he said. He pointed to her tank. “You’re going to have to take that off.”
“Sure.”
Ari waited while he prepped the materials and pulled her tank over her head. Martin did his best to be professional and not a perv despite how Ari sat only in her bra. He applyed the template on her skin. “This is going to hurt,” he told her. She believed him. Different parts of the body had more or less sensitivity. The spot she chose would be tender for days. She relished the idea.
“You ready?” he asked, picking up the silver ink gun and leaning over her body.
“I’m ready.”
“Let’s do this.”
Ari gripped the sides of her chair bracing herself for that first sting—the first wave of pain. Goosebumps covered her skin and she knew her nipples were erect, easily visible to Martin. She closed her eyes, sinking to the place where the pain became pleasure and once again, she felt alive.
* * *
The adrenaline rush from the tattoo still ran through her veins. The residual pain distracted her and that was why she didn’t notice the guys standing in the shadows on the other side of the street across from her home. She’d barely shut the car door when one walked in front of her bumper, while another came from behind.
Too late to get back in the car and too far from the door, she fought the urge to panic and tried to get up the driveway. “Where you running, baby?” the boy closest to her asked.
Ari flicked her eyes at him and took in the pale skin and scraggly hair. It was dark and she wasn’t sure, but she felt like she’d finally come face-to-face with Jace Watkins.
“Just let me by,” she said.
“Yeah, I can’t really do that,” he said. “I know you told the police about me being at that hardware store.”
“I didn’t tell them anything,” Ari lied.
Jace shook his head. “They’ve been looking for me and only one person could connect me to that robbery. I saw you there—and you saw me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The police collected evidence at the crime. Fingerprints, that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but I could have been in there at any time. You’re the eye witness.” Jace moved his lean body so she couldn’t possibly escape. The guy behind her stood just far away enough for her to understand this was Jace’s issue to deal with. He was simply muscle. “The funny thing is I’ve always known who you were. The only young, hot chick in that office. I tried to talk to you more than once.”
Ari tried to ignore the creepy look on his face, but clenched her keys in her fist. Where was Oliver? Or a passing car for that matter?
“Jace, I didn’t tell the cops anything, but this is only going to get you in more trouble.” She hoped to rationalize with him but after the story Hope told her, she wasn’t sure it would work.
“Thought messing up your car would help you get the idea, but you’ve been talking to the police. That’s right…” Jace laughed, when she realized he’d been following her. She’d felt it all along, she’d just hoped it was someone else. Someone who obviously had better things to do or he’d be there right now. “I’ve been following you for some time and it’s been a treat. You like to get around, huh? Dirty dancing at the club, meeting up with different guys. I know you’ve got that lawyer on the hook.”
He made a move toward her chest with his hand. She batted it away, trying to make contact with her keys, but he stopped her, forcing the keys from her hands. They fell to the ground. Jace aggressively pushed her up against her car, using his hips to hold her, while one, calloused hand covered her mouth. With the other, Jace tugged down the zipper on her sweatshirt, shocking her skin with cold, winter air. He smiled, flashing a row of gold teeth when he saw her thin tank top, and the cloth bandage covering her new tattoo peeking out from the fabric.
“I wanted to see it myself.”
Despite the cold, Ari broke out in a sweat. She felt Jace all over her. His hand on her face, his arousal against her stomach, his dirty fingers lightly stroking against her chest, toying with the bandage. She gagged and Jace’s face went from delight to disgust. “Don’t even think of puking on me, bitch.”
His hand went from her mouth to her throat and from the corner of her eye she saw his free hand go to his belt.
“Don’t do this, Jace,” she whispered. “You’re better than this.”
Jace snorted and opened his mouth to say something but they both saw a flash movement to the side. Ari used the distraction to get her knee between his legs, ramming it upwards as hard as she could. Jace’s face contorted and he dropped both hands. “Motherfucker,” he grunted, lunging at her. He was too late. Ari darted out of his reach and toward her house, yelling for Oliver—for anyone. She couldn’t get in without her keys. She banged on the door over and over until Oliver, groggy and confused peeked through the window. His eyes popped wide open and she could hear him scramble to get the door open.
“Call the police!” she shout
ed, locking the door behind her.
Finally awake, Oliver dialed 911 and made the report, even if somewhat incoherently. A loud crash came from outside and Ari ran to the window. Jace was still out there. In the throes of a fight with the Vigilante.
He came.
“Oliver! Look!” she cried and he rushed next to her. “That guy is destroying him.”
Ari unlocked the front door and went on the porch. She knew the mystery guy wouldn’t let him get away a second time. She winced as she watched Jace’s face slam into the tree in their front yard. She heard him beg for his life. “Don’t!” Jace cried. A similar plea to one Ari had made only moments earlier. “I didn’t do this on my own,” he said, between spitting out mouthfuls of blood. “I can tell you things! I’m not the one that wants her!”
The mystery guy didn’t seem impressed and kneed Jace in the back. He hovered over him and whispered something in his ear. Ari was too far to hear and the sirens wailed on her street. She didn’t take a breath until the flashing lights stopped in front of her house and the police spilled out of the cars.
The mystery guy stood up and faced Ari. In the darkness of the night, she couldn’t see his face, cloaked by his hood. He bent down once more, slipped something into his pocket and then disappeared into the night.
* * *
This time, the police invited her back to the station. “Invite” was the nice way to put it. Forced sounded so…well, forceful. Ari willingly went with Detective Bryson, knowing her repeated involvement with Jace Watkins and the mystery man was too much to ignore.
They made Ari feel comfortable—she was the victim after all. She was given a large cup of coffee and a cushioned chair to sit in. It was all very benign except she suspected it wasn’t. Four crimes in the past month, two involving the Vigilante. All of them involving Jace Watkins, a former client in her department. The police wanted answers. She didn’t blame them.
Detective Bryson sat behind his desk and pulled out a clean sheet of lined paper. The kind reports got filed on. Ari had similar paper in her desk. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you feeling up to this?”
