by Angel Lawson
She fumbled around for the card with his phone number. She never saved it in her phone. That would have made it too easy. “A group of his boys came out to do a presentation for my self-defense class. Rebecca saw the video footage and called us over.” She found the card buried under a pile of messages. “If I could only find the phone.”
She rummaged around the desk. A pile of folders fell off the edge, revealing her phone. “Ah.”
“So you and this Davis guy have gotten close?”
The question startled Ari and she forced herself to act naturally. “I wouldn’t say ‘close’,” she lied. She started dialing the phone.
“You seem like you have a lot of work to do,” he said. Ari glanced up and noticed the tense line between his eyes was still there. “Can I come by tonight?”
“Sorry, I have so much junk to do today. Every day, I get further behind. But tonight sounds great.”
“I’ll bring dinner.”
“Thank you,” Ari said. Nick leaned down and gave her a kiss. Warm and soft. Something nice to hold onto for the rest of the day.
* * *
Peter waved Ari back when she entered the gym. No one was at the counter, but he and a couple of the guys took turns in the gym area pummeling the tar out of a weight bag. Loud, angry music played over the speakers, so loud it made her chest vibrate. She guessed that was one way to get out the aggression.
“I’m so sorry,” she said to Peter. “You let me know if I can do anything, okay?”
“Thanks.” He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You looking for Davis?”
“Yes, is he here?”
“Go on back to his office. I’ll get him.”
Ari followed the familiar hallway to his office. She paused before opening the door, wondering what she was doing there. Where was this going? How did the lines between her and Davis get so muddled? Was she there as his co-worker or secret lover? Did she offer comfort with her body or a sympathetic ear?
Confused but determined, she pushed the door open. She stopped herself from sitting on the couch. After the other day, it seemed inappropriate. They’d crossed—no smashed—through the boundary lines and she had no idea what to do. “What have I done?” she muttered to herself.
Davis appeared at the office door damp and clean from a shower. He wore a dark blue long-sleeved thermal and jeans. The smell of his soap followed him into the room, masking the sweaty smell from the gym.
“You didn’t have to stop working out for me,” Ari said.
“It’s okay.” He shut the door. “How are you?”
“Me? I think the better question is how are you?”
His jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Managing. For the kids. The guys.”
Ari took a step forward, fumbling for words. “I just...” She held her hand out, wavering in its destination. She didn’t have to decide though. Davis grabbed it and pulled her to his chest.
“Can I?” he asked. His mouth right above hers. She saw the pain in his eyes and the pink of his lips.
“Yes.”
* * *
They only kissed. Slow and lingering filled with sorrow and pain. Davis led her to the couch and she sat in his lap. His hands didn’t wander, neither did his mouth. After some time, he buried his face into Ari’s sweater.
She raked her fingernails over his stubbly hair. He wanted to feel something other than the horror of Alvarez’s death. Ari understood this. They were the same. The same desperation and hollowness had led them to one another.
Feeling the need to connect, Ari reached for her sweater sleeve. She pulled it up to reveal the tiny star on the inside of her elbow. “I got this one when I graduated. Oliver and I drank too much tequila and we agreed to go get a tattoo. He chickened out, of course.”
Davis ran a thumb over the star, sending a chill up her spine.
“These three,” she inched up her skirt, revealing the tender flesh on her inner thigh. “Came after a particularly interesting night in Vegas. I should have tattooed it in glitter.” Ari dropped the skirt before he could touch her.
Davis looked at her with tired, wary eyes and she ran her hand down the side of his face, sliding her fingers down his sharp, tight jaw.
“The ones closest to me are these two.” She shifted and showed the two tiny dark stars on her collarbone. “I got these when my parents died.”
“So these represent events in your life?” His fingers ran down her arms, but his eyes stayed glued to the stars.
“Moments. Things I don’t want to forget. Feelings I want etched in my skin as a reminder.” An awkward silence passes between them. “You wanted to know what they were for. That’s what they mean. Scars of my life.”
They sat quietly together and Davis touched the tattoos that he could see. He took a deep breath and said, “My mother died when I was thirteen. That’s when my father opened the gym. He had been a fighter when he was younger. A boxer.” Davis pointed to the old cracked gloves hanging by the door. “To save me, he said. I had all this pent-up anger and energy and no mother to soothe it away. He wanted to teach me to use my power for good.”
“Sounds like a smart man.”
“He was.” Davis swallowed, gaining control over his voice. “When I was sixteen, he opened the residential program. He took in boys from all over Glory City, trying to make a better life for them. He had a gift for choosing the right kid for the program.”
“Kind of like you.”
He shrugged. “Every kid is a risk. There’s always a level of wildness about them. Can we really tame the streets out of them? He thought so.”
“Do you?”
He bit his bottom lip. “I’m not sure. I’ve made mistakes before. Like Antonio. My father made mistakes, too. The first boy we took in, he and I were like brothers. My father trained and educated us together. We fought and squabbled like family, too, vying for my father’s attention. Even after new boys came into the program, he and I were the big shots. That’s how we ended up doing the competitive fighting. Dad needed a way to contain our energy and aggressiveness toward one another. So he started these trials, pitting us against one another. Using the rules of the games kept us under control.”
“Again, he sounds like a smart man.”
Davis rubbed his face with his hands. “He didn’t anticipate our rivalry, though. Over the years, our anger only grew with one another. My brother and I fought over girls, school, work…anything. But the last fight. It was the worst. So dumb, but so bad.”
“What happened?”
He shook his head. “The fight doesn’t matter. It ended with my father dead.”
Ari recoiled. “You killed him?”
“No! No, of course not.” He brushed back the strands of hair that constantly fell in Ari’s face. “My brother and I were in the ring. Prepared to fight to the end, this time. To the death. Seriously. I wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill me.”
“That sounds crazy.”
“We were crazy. My father knew our rivalry and egos had escalated too far. When the fight got too rough he stepped in between us to stop it. Right when my brother leveled a massive punch at me. His fist slammed into my father’s skull and that was it. He never woke up.”
“Oh, Davis.”
“This,” he pointed to the gash through his eyebrow. “Is the scar I took away from that fight.” He lifted up his shirt and pointed to another one on his side, thick and gnarled. “This came from the last time I saw him. When he tried to take the GYC from me. Claiming he had as much right to it as I did.”
“He wants the youth center? All of it?”
“He thinks he has rightful ownership of it. We’re not blood—he has no legal legs to stand on.”
Ari tried to process the story she’d just heard. “Where is he now?”
Davis laughed darkly. “That’s the interesting question, Ari. He was tried as a juvenile for killing my father, so he was released after four years, when he was twenty-one. We had an altercation then,” he touches the scar on his stom
ach. “We agreed then he could live his life and I would live mine—just keeping our distance and peace.”
“Has it worked?” Something about the expression on Davis’s face told Ari it hadn’t.
“I thought so. I hadn’t seen him in years. He disappeared. Until last night. Until I saw that man kill Oscar.”
“What?” I ask. “Last night?”
“My brother executed Oscar last night. His death was a message for me.”
Ari couldn’t hide her shock. “Your brother is the Vigilante?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?” A million questions ran through her mind.
“That was not the Vigilante last night. It was an imposter. That was Reg, attempting to wipe away all the good he’s done. Trying to hurt me.”
“But…” Ari didn’t even know where to begin. “How do you know?”
“Ari, I loved and fought with my brother for years. We had the same teacher. It was him.”
What was Davis saying to her? Or not saying? “Are you going to call the police? Turn him in?”
“I haven’t decided how to handle it yet, but promise me one thing.”
She nodded hesitantly. “Sure.”
“From now on, I need you to trust me. Completely. If he hurt Oscar he could hurt you, too.”
* * *
“You’re kidding,” Ari said to Detective Bryson. He’d called right as she left the GYC.
“No,” he said. “I hate to be the bearer of this bad news but somehow Jace Watkins got out on bail.”
“Why would they do that? And without telling me?”
“I can’t explain it either, Ari. Seems like he got himself a new lawyer and managed to get a new hearing set. The bail was high, though, twenty thousand. I doubt the judge thought he would make it.”
“Who paid it then? Because I can’t see Jace having a spare twenty-thousand dollars around, either.”
“No idea. The bail was set by a management company of some kind. The bail bondsman didn’t care. They just wanted the payment,” he explained. “Just be careful, okay? I’m going to personally do some heavy patrolling around your house, and I’ll let the rest of the officers know, too. If he comes back, we’ll catch him.”
Ari thanked the detective, but his protection didn’t make her feel any better. Jace had barely been stopped last time—and that was by the Vigilante who might or might not really be a vigilante.
Overwhelmed, Ari pulled into her driveway and slapped a hand to her forehead. She’d completely forgotten about Nick bringing dinner. His car was parked behind Oliver’s and she hustled to the door.
“I’m so sorry,” she said the instant she entered the house. Lively music played from the stereo and she heard voices from the kitchen. Everyone sounded happy, which was the exact opposite of how Ari felt at the moment.
“Ari!” Oliver called, when he saw her. He held out a glass of wine, which she eagerly accepted. She might as well drink the funk away. Veronica waved from the kitchen.
“Is he mad? I’m totally late,” she whispered.
“At you?” he asked. “I’m not sure Nick has a ‘mad’ button.”
Veronica left the tiny kitchen giving Ari room to go in. “Hi,” she said, resting a hand on Oliver’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Nick gave her a kiss. “Tough day?”
“Kind of.” Guilt settled in her chest. She’d spent the afternoon sharing secrets with her lover, not her boyfriend.
“Well, I brought over Thai. Enough for everyone. I thought we could all eat together.” He leaned into her ear. “And then maybe you and I could spend some time alone?”
“Sounds great.”
Ari excused herself, telling Nick and Oliver she left something in the car. What she needed was fresh air. This thing between her and Davis had grown complicated. And maybe just for her. After his revelation about his brother, he hadn’t said much more. Only that he would deal with the situation. She didn’t like the way his eyes had clouded over when he spoke about it. Or the way his hands balled into tight fists. Who was she to get in the middle of it? Except she was in the middle. Did that mean his brother had been visiting her room at night? Saving her from the criminals of Glory City? Except no, Davis said he wasn’t the Vigilante. Did that mean he knew who was?
Ari took a deep breath of cool night air.
“You okay?” she heard from the driveway. Veronica stood on the path that led to the back door.
“Oh, hey, Veronica. Just getting some air.”
“Well, you looked a little sick when you ran out of the room. Those guys are kind of clueless. I doubt they’d ever notice.”
“That’s the truth. One time my boyfriend broke up with me by text. I was crushed. Oliver offered to take me to a strip club and not the Magic Mike kind of strip club.”
“He’s a charmer,” Veronica laughed. “But for real. I know we aren’t close or anything but you seem a little stressed.”
“Eh…” Ari started. Where should she start? Missing kids? Mystery men? Murderers? Secret lovers? Her whole life seemed shrouded in drama. “I just feel a little over my head right now.”
“But Nick’s good right? He seems stable.”
“Yes, he’s very stable,” Ari agreed, not meeting her eye.
Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You’re not into stable.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, not always, but that doesn’t mean it’s bad, right? Because unstable guys—that never works out, know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I’ve been there.”
“But,” Ari said, before she thought better. “Those other guys, the unstable ones. They have a habit of getting under your skin.”
“Yes, they do.” Veronica leaned against the porch railing. “So, is there another guy? Someone who fits better with the tattoos and combat boots?”
“How?” Ari couldn’t remember exposing that side of herself when Veronica was around.
“Those tattoos are more noticeable than you think,” she said. “Plus, I’m a light sleeper. I’ve heard you come in late a couple nights. Once in a pretty revealing top. I wasn’t spying, promise. But it’s pretty obvious you weren’t out with Nick.”
The heat of embarrassment and guilt rushed to Ari’s face. “No. Not Nick.”
“So, ditch Nick. Go with the troublemaker.”
“I’m not sure he’s really available for more than what we have. Plus, I’m wondering if it’s time to settle down, leave all that behind.”
“Security isn’t bad. Believe it or not, Oliver may be the safest guy I’ve ever dated.”
Ari rubbed her face with her hands. “Ugh, I have no idea what to do.”
“Well,” Veronica said, wrapping an arm around Ari’s shoulder. “The good news is you don’t have to pick tonight.”
“You’re right.” Ari needed to think. To figure this out.
“But from the worried look on your face about the man serving us all dinner in there, I think it may be time to make some decisions.”
Ari rested her hand on the doorknob and sighed. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“Any time.”
* * *
Ari drained her wine glass and set it on the table. She figured if she was going to break things off with Nick, she might as well have a bit of a buzz.
“Did you hear anything else about the Vigilante?” Veronica asked.
Startled, Ari asked, “Me?”
“Well, anyone, I guess. I haven’t seen the news.”
“I heard there’s a reward out for him. From the mayor’s office,” Oliver said. “The senior partners were talking about it today. Sounds like everyone was kind of willing to let this slide until he shot that kid.”
“Do they have any idea who it is?” Ari asked, playing dumb.
“I think the police know more than they’re letting on,” Nick said.
Oliver leaned forward. “Why do you think that?”
“I talked to some of the cops today at the courthouse
. This guy won’t get away with it. In fact, I suspect they’re pretty close.”
“Anything specific?”
Nick took a sip of wine. “Well, I hate to tell Ari this, but rumor has it, the police are very interested in the program Oscar came from. It’s possible the Vigilante has some kind of connection with the GYC.”
“What? Why?” Ari asked.
“You saw the video. The two men were pretty evenly matched. Oscar could have taken him if it weren’t for that gun.”
“That’s too bad,” Oliver said. “They’ve got a great thing going on over there. I’d hate to see it shut down.”
“I doubt it will come to that, but I could see some kind of investigation taking place. Or possibly removing the staff if necessary.”
Ari frowned. “The staff? Why? They’re awesome. What does this crazy guy have to do with the program anyway?”
“Like I said, I’m not sure, but it seems logical if the murderer is connected somehow. Why do you care so much? You only have one kid placed there. Surely Judge Hatcher can help you find another placement.”
“Because, like Oliver, I think it’s a pretty great program and I’d hate to see it get destroyed by some nut job.”
“I didn’t say it would be destroyed. Just possibly under more reputable management.”
“You’ve never even been there. How do you know there’s a problem with management?” Ari’s voice hit an unpleasant level and across the table, Oliver raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a bunch of courthouse gossip,” she said. She got up and started clearing the table. In the kitchen, she turned on the faucet and scraped the plates into the sink.
Nick came in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “What’s bothering you?”
Ari shook him off and moved to the other side of the kitchen, digging in the upper cabinet for plastic containers. She glanced in the dining room. Oliver and Veronica had disappeared.
“So, you’re mad? Because of what, exactly?”
She turned and said, “Because…” Because what? He offended her secret lover? He called her mystery guy a murderer, which he wasn’t. Not the real Viglante, which had implications she wasn’t even ready to get into. Because she was ready to break up with Nick and a fight seemed better than, “it’s not you, it’s me”?
