by Lacey Silks
My throat tingled as I held back my tears and shook my head. I’d never heard Mr. Wright say these words before. How could he have been so mad about Daddy? They were best friends. Weren’t they? Daddy always did everything the chief asked him to. He worked late nights and took on the most dangerous jobs assigned to him, even if it meant missing tucking me into bed and kissing me goodnight.
“Leave, Dave, before we both do something we regret.”
I heard my mother pull out a knife from the holder on the kitchen counter. The metal blade slid sharp against its iron casing. I backed into a corner of the dark storage, and my entire body trembled in a crouch. I should have helped her, and instead I was trapped in a rhythm of constant shakes.
A swoosh and a punch later, the blade flew down, clashing onto the tile floor. In that one second I hoped she’d stabbed him. Hell, I hoped she’d killed him.
Millie began barking again, and it wasn’t a happy kind of bark.
“You think a knife will help you, Peg?” Wright’s voice held more determination than before. The click of a gun loading sounded as he got his pistol ready. I imagined him pointing it at my mom. I guess the knife was as useful as a solar-powered flashlight.
“Turn around and lift your fucking dress if you want to live,” he ordered.
After that, I covered my ears. The screaming, the loud thrashing of bodies, and my mom’s constant pleading not to push so hard against the stomach for the sake of her baby were audible no matter how hard I pressed my palms to my ears.
I sobbed quietly, wanting the sounds to go away. As much as I tried to dismiss them, they kept coming through, sounds I’d remember forever. Muffled cries and sobs I would draw on to take my revenge when the time was right. With my eyes shut, my body ceased to work. I think my bladder let go at some point as well. The snot under my nose collected and dripped in streaks to the floor, but I wouldn’t wipe it in fear of what I’d hear when I pulled my hands away.
It didn’t take him long to be done, but it felt like forever to me. At that moment, I was the biggest coward in the world. When I should have saved her, I couldn’t. The one time my mother needed my help, I froze as if buried in that darkened hole, held captive by a kidnapper. I hated myself that day, and I promised I’d never let fear take over again. I’d put myself in danger to save anyone and everyone I could. No matter what the price. That was the day I decided to be a cop.
Before Wright left, he warned, “You tell anyone about this, Peg, and I’ll take that pretty little girl of yours until she bleeds on my cock. And it will be all your fault.”
As soon as the door shut closed, I ran into the kitchen to find Mom passing out on the floor. Her skirt and apron were soaked in blood. I covered her with a blanket and dialed 911.
I told her later I’d forgotten a book, come back to get it, and found her there. But I think she knew. I could see it in her eyes. She knew I’d failed her. My mother never mentioned Wright. She never told anyone what he’d done to her. The shame in her eyes was washed over by grief not only for the loss of her baby, but also for the most precious memory of her husband she carried in her stomach. At the hospital, the generous doctors and nurses kept asking if there was anything they could do, but even they couldn’t give life to the miscarried child. Neither of us could hold back the cries and sobs. I crawled into her bed and lay there in her arms every day while she recovered at the hospital; physically, at least. At moments, she’d coo at me like I was the baby, calling me Emma in her dreams. Even her breast milk began to leak.
We buried Emma beside Dad. The little square piece of marble looked odd beside his, but at least he wasn’t alone. A wreath made of fresh daisies I’d picked hung on the cross above her tombstone. My mother stood over the grave for hours, holding onto her swollen tummy as if Emma were still in there. She finally collapsed onto her knees. I will never forget that image. The worst part of the funeral was seeing Wright, the righteous man, standing beside some of the other town’s folk, watching me and my mother. Little did he know my fear of him had passed the minute I vowed to never be afraid of a man.
The unborn child was the last piece of my father that my mother and I had, and Wright robbed us both of that child. He robbed my mother of a daughter, and me of a sister. I often wondered whether Emma would have had my father’s eyes or his blond streak of hair, a birthmark among the light brown locks. I figured her hair would have curled like mine, the way our mother’s did. But now I wouldn’t have a sibling to laugh, walk to school, or share my secrets with. I couldn’t give her my dolls or teach her the alphabet.
My mother was never the same after that. She stopped making waffles from scratch and went through the motions of life for me—the coward who’d let her down. After that dreadful day my mother would jump at the slightest of sounds and wake up in the middle of the night to check the locks. Everything collapsed that day. Wright ripped out our hearts, tore apart our family, and instilled rage I’d never forget. I carried the guilt for not helping my mother through my schooling as a cop, needing to prove myself worthy.
Soon after the funeral we moved to a new town on the other side of the country, on the east coast. I was sure no one knew when we left or to where. My mother only packed a suitcase, took my hand, and called a cab. She left everything else behind, even my father’s car. She walked Millie to a neighbor’s house. I missed the dog, but didn’t dare tell Mom. She had enough to deal with.
After a few bus and train rides, we arrived at what was supposed to be a new beginning – except Wright seemed to have come along with us, in both our memories. So, life after that wasn’t peachy. She lived in constant mourning and fear. He’d taken everything away: my sister, my mother’s strength and love for life, my childhood, and I was sure my father’s life as well.
My mother still lives in a tiny apartment. Never trusting Wright, I’ve moved her over a dozen times since I left for school. He found us twice before, but now I had the means to make sure he wouldn’t find us again. I knew he looked for her. And I’d go to hell and back before I let him find her. She was bolted under ten locks and chains, with a bottle of tequila on the kitchen table.
“It’s the only thing that makes me forget,” she told me when I was older. So I bought her a bottle once in a while if she’d promise me she’d only drink with me, so we could both forget. She kept the promise. At one point I told her I’d make things right, but I think she’d had too many shots to remember.
I hated Wright. I despised him with a passion, and the day he’d pay for his sins was coming. I’d build my strength, knowledge, and connections, and when the time was right, I’d strike back. I’d take his life with no evidence, just the way he took the lives of my unborn sister and my father. And I’d make sure he knew exactly who I was when I slit his throat. Payback was a bitch. And I was coming head on.
CHAPTER 4
At four a.m. on Tuesday morning, my eyes felt like someone had poured coffee in them. The door lock clicked and Laura came in from her night shift. She was wearing her sweats and her hair was still damp, which could only mean she’d had a rough night and used the showers at headquarters. Neither of us really liked showering at work. That place needed a major renovation. Her eyes were barely propped open and I could fall asleep standing just looking at her, even with what felt like my caffeine-filled veins. I wished I could switch places with her, knowing she’d pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Lucky girl.
Ever since Tristan Cross had walked into the auditorium, I either couldn’t sleep, or I slept and dreamt about him. The restless nights imagining us together tortured me. During the few hours of sleep, his body became mine as I roamed the rippled fields of muscles I imagined on his abs. The six-pack narrowed into a perfect valley where I slid my tongue toward a glistening mushroom cap. The pink tip summoned my lips to taste it. I’d wake up drenched in my own sweet juices, all swollen from the onslaught of my fingers. The naughty things he did to me in my dreams left my limbs sore in the morning. How
could someone tire you out through your dreams?
“Another sleepless night?” she asked.
“Yes.” I stretched out my arms, trying to infuse strength into them.
“Okay, what’s his name?” She threw down her duffle bag.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“You have that I can’t stop thinking about him look.” Laura grabbed a bottle of water and plopped down on the couch beside me.
There was a look?
“Just some work-related stuff.” I shrugged it off, remembering what made my friend such a good cop. Nothing could pass her by, and she’d figure it all out pretty soon. That is, if I didn’t spill my guts first.
“Hey, can I ask you a question?” I bit my lip.
“You're making me nervous, Allie. You’re confused and indecisive. That’s dangerous for work. Whatever’s troubling you, it needs to go away. I’ve never seen you this way before. Ask away.” She motioned with her hands for me to come closer, like a good priest to a parishioner ready for a confession.
I clasped my hands together in front of me, cracking my fingers. “Did you hear anything from Cross Enterprises about that job?”
“Yes, I called to follow up and was told the position had been filled already. I thought you didn’t apply?”
“I didn’t.” I slouched back. How could I have been so stupid? I should have filled out that application on the spot and visited my mother while I waited for the interview. And now Cross had hired someone else. I thought we had a connection. I thought he’d wait for me. Had I lost my only opportunity to get rid of Wright properly, without consequence? Worst of all, something hit me deep inside, and my chest deflated. Why did my heart feel shattered and empty? The idea of not seeing Cross again aggravated me more than I expected and I frowned.
“Looks like a life’s little regret.” She wrapped her arm around me. “Don’t worry, if you like we can go out next weekend to that club he owns, Kissed, and find us some hot-off-the-skillet men who’ll appreciate your boobs and maybe your ass as well.” She grinned with a wide smile, rubbing the side of my shoulder like a mother would. “Then we can hang off their beautiful biceps like monkeys while Cross burns in a pit fueled by his jealousy.”
As much as I wanted to deny it, the thought of making Cross jealous sounded appetizing. Except I didn’t want to hang off anyone’s bicep unless it belonged to Cross himself. Mr. D, my nightly entertainer stuck in the bottom drawer of my dresser, would see way more action tonight while I thought about Cross’s muscles, or more specifically, the only muscle that could satisfy my yearnings.
And now, I’d blown an opportunity to work for the perfect guy and might have also put my mother in more danger than necessary. Finding another means to get rid of Wright without a trace would not be easy. From my research Cross was my best bet, and now I’d blown it.
I fidgeted on the sofa, so she continued.
“If it’s any consolation, whoever got the job can’t possibly deserve it more than you do. It’s weird they’d want a bunch of rookies applying anyways, but I wouldn’t have minded learning a few things from the Cross brothers, if you know what I mean.” Her brows moved up and down suggestively. Any opportunity to feast our eyes on a hot man like Cross was like an all-you-can-eat buffet, serving nothing but sweets and deliciously filling carbs.
Laura, like me, was so focused on her career she had practically no chance for a personal life. Talking about going out to a night club was just that – talking. We’d never do it. We were either working or sleeping it off. We barely had time to cook or shop for bare necessities. Being on the bottom of the totem pole meant we picked up shifts no one else wanted, and worked in the most dangerous locations with the cruelest of civilization. She was the only one besides me at headquarters who held a black belt in more than one discipline, and to keep the titles, we trained a few times a week, giving special lessons at local karate clubs.
“You deserved it just as much as I did.”
“But it was a bit more important to you, on a personal level, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Allie, whatever ghosts from the past are haunting your present, you need to either forget them or bury them in the past.”
Bury was exactly what I had in mind. The moment Wright’s body was buried, I could finally live in peace.
“I saw Tristan Cross on Friday night,” I blurted.
“Seriously?”
“He came to Mike’s and had a few shots with me, and then drove me home.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
“You mean the hottest, richest, and sexiest bachelor in New York drove you home, and that’s it? Not to mention the man responsible for the hiring decision on the most sought-after job. You got the job, didn’t you? Oh no! You did him! Was it the fuck me and it’s yours kind of interview?”
I felt heat rush to my cheeks. She wasn’t too far off because that’s exactly what I wanted to do to Tristan Cross, and the only thing that had stopped me on Friday night was too much tequila. Cross didn’t strike me as the kind who took advantage of intoxicated women. And I knew he wanted it too. He had to. That twinkle in his eyes couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than I want you, and I want it now. My gauge had been off the charts that night.
“You think I’d stoop that low?” Actually, I would, but Laura didn’t have to know it.
“There's nothing wrong with using what God gave you to your advantage. Women have a difficult enough life as it is.”
And that was the answer to most of Laura’s worries. In my stripping days—yes, that’s how I’d paid my way through college—she’d said the exact same thing: flaunt what you have to get what you want.
“He didn’t really say it, but yes, I thought he wanted me for the job.”
“And what stopped him?”
“Paperwork; I hadn’t applied. I needed to visit my mother before I did, and now if the job is filled, it’s pointless. Everything is ruined.” I lowered my head between my knees.
“Maybe he’d change his mind if you at least told him you’re interested. Don’t let this opportunity pass. I bet if he found you once, he’ll find you again.” Then she added, “And if you do screw him, make sure you do it well and let me know all the details.”
Yeah, like that was going to happen. As much as my friend liked to gush about her erotic adventures and what’d she’d done with her new conquest of the month à la quickie style before or after work, I wasn’t too keen on hearing the details. At times it surprised me she didn’t leave little check marks on her four-poster bed. Laura said she had no time for a relationship and didn’t really like a buzzing vibrator, so a quickie was her only option.
And those were the times I was thankful we’d worked opposite shifts. At least I didn’t have to hear what was going on behind the wall. Although I didn’t really appreciate finding men’s underwear in our laundry basket. Yuck!
“I need to hit the pillow.” She pushed off the sofa and weaved between the furniture toward her bedroom.
I twisted my spine, releasing some pressure, and then tied my hair in an elastic band and pulled on a pair of sweats. The gym was only four blocks away, so I jogged there. A promise of snow lingered in the air, and I had a feeling we’d have an early winter. Tomorrow, I’d drive to visit my mother in South Carolina. I’d check out the local stores and shops and watch her apartment for a couple of days to see whether Wright was staking it out. If he was, it was time to move again. And somehow, I’d have to find a new plan to get rid of him. That is, if Cross had really hired someone else.
Inside the gym, I worked through four reps of crunches, push ups, and squats – my warm-up routine. My muscles began to ache, but in a good way. The sweat dripped down my back and I stepped up on the treadmill, cranking it up to full speed within minutes; or at least as fast as my legs could take me. The gym was still empty, for most part, smelling of fresh aloe and baking soda. Exercising in the morning, before the
rush of sweaty armpits, was a better remedy than the tequila. And I could have sworn the liquor was still evaporating from my pores.
Someone turned on the machine beside me. I kept up my pace, concentrating on the protein drink advertisement ahead. The smell of musk and Old Spice wafted around me, and I knew it was a man on the other treadmill. Why so close to me? Why not use a machine further down the aisle? I finally gave in to my curiosity, reduced the speed, and turned to my right. My brows narrowed into a frown.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. There he was, in his “I’m the sexiest man alive” red shorts that reminded me of the ones hunky H&M models wore enticing women to shop in the store. I tried to imagine the soft flesh underneath Cross’s shorts and wondered how fast I could make him hard. The thought disappeared as soon as he caught me staring, and I felt my cheeks heat up.
“You’re following me.” I tried to divert his attention.
Cross jogged in a slow warm-up, grinning. “It’s a public gym.”
“I’ve been coming here for two years and never seen you.”
“Because I choose when I want to be seen, Allie. Good morning, Cole.” He waved to one of the trainers.
Either Cross knew everyone in town, or he did come here and I hadn’t seen him. But instinct told me it was too much of a coincidence for him to be here at five in the morning. Was this the chance Laura spoke about?
“You’re making me wait a long time. Why haven’t you applied yet?” he asked.
“I’ve heard the position’s been filled.”
The frown on his face told me he hadn’t been expecting this. I had caught him off guard. “It’s not filled. It’s just waiting for the right applicant.”
Could it really be possible? Was Tristan Cross still waiting for me to apply? A spark of hope ignited in my chest and then weaved down my body to heat the most sensitive places. Perhaps all was not lost. The details of the mysterious job of a hooker surged my curiosity to its highest. I was almost sure he’d been kidding the other day.
