Luke gave her room, but not a lot. She wasn’t getting out of this one. He studied her appearance and nearly shuddered. Her black hair was caked with dirt, her clothes the same. He imagined she hadn’t had a proper shower in weeks. The green eyes he dreamed about every night were lifeless, outlined with a darkening bruise across her face. “Who did that to you?” He could barely make out the imprint of fingers across her face and he bet there were more beneath her clothes.
Almost as if she hadn’t even noticed it, Trey brought her hand to her face. “It was an accident.”
“You want me to believe that it wasn’t the piece of shit you call a father?” He shook his head, inhaling deeply. What was he doing? Trey didn’t want anything to do with him, but here he was, pushing his way into her life again, and the first time hadn’t been much of a joy ride. “I’m such a masochist,” he said to himself.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Just be more careful next time.” He didn’t like the idea of her living in the junkyard or anywhere else besides his apartment, but he didn’t really have a choice. She’d made it perfectly clear their relationship had ended when she’d left a note on his pillow the morning after his proposal. Six years of happiness gone in an instant. The memory made his stomach roll. He’d given her everything he had and she’d thrown it all away to run off to Vegas. Luke turned toward the entrance of the alley. This would be his last attempt. He’d known that going in.
“That’s it?” she asked from behind. Her voice sent a warming sensation throughout his entire body. There had been days when he didn’t think he could survive without it, the days he’d been out searching for her, but Trey had proven him wrong. Many times over.
He stopped without turning around. “What else is there?” Luke hoped she wouldn’t answer, but then she wouldn’t be Trey.
“No pep talk? No more questions? You’re just going to leave?”
Shit, he thought. Now she’d done it. That damn voice of hers held a hint of a longing and he’d never been one who could turn her down. Even the idea of walking away pulled at the ripped edges of the hole she’d left in his chest. Luke turned back around to face her, taking in every inch of her appearance. She’d lost weight, too much, during their separation. She needed food. A shower. Sleep. Those were things he could provide. The hardness in her eyes, however, he imagined would take time to get rid of. Something she may not ever give him again. “Come on.” He motioned her to follow.
“Where?”
“You need a shower,” he said with a smile. “You stink.”
Chapter Five
It took more than five minutes to get the hot water to run clean.
Trey had an appointment to make and luckily, Luke had been kind enough to let her clean up. More than kind. She ran her fingers over the bathrobe he kept hanging on the back of the bathroom door then buried her nose in it.
She never wanted to exhale the scent and wished she could take the robe home with her. But then he’d know, she told herself. Taking a piece of him back with her would only make the situation more complicated, something she didn’t need right now. Why can’t I just be a normal twenty-six-year old in love? she asked herself.
Her fingertips trailed over the single bottle on the countertop. Luke’s cologne. Trey picked it up, raising the blue glass to her nose, and inhaled. Citrus, wood and spice filled her lungs instantly and she smiled, inhaling again. Her favorite memory threatened to surface: his proposal.
The sight of the diamond ring attached to a bottle of his favorite cologne, the one she held now, and had sprayed on her pillows every night, remained burned in her mind. He’d known she’d been the one stealing a puff here and there. Anything to keep him with her throughout the day.
Trey put the bottle down. That was a long time ago, she told herself. Who wants a cast-off hooker? She had to get out of the apartment.
A knock snapped her out of her thoughts. “You okay in there?”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, just drying off.”
The door opened slowly, but she managed to cover up just in time. It’d been a long time since she felt comfortable being naked in front of a man, but she remembered Luke had been the only man she’d ever felt comfortable with. The thought made her wrap the towel around herself tighter. She’d left him for a reason. She couldn’t get involved with him again.
“You left these here.” He offered her what looked like a pair of jeans and a shirt. “Probably still fit.”
It took her a moment to get over the shock and take them from him. “You kept my clothes?” Trey held them up. “And cleaned them?”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I guess I did.”
“Thanks.” She meant it. The shower, and now the clean clothes, almost made her feel whole again.
Luke’s eyes surveyed the bathroom. “Well, I guess I’ll let you…” He motioned to the clothes then turned and closed the door.
“Yeah,” she whispered to herself. Two minutes later, she made her way into the living room. Nothing had changed. “I see you’re still not into decorating.”
Luke had the TV on, his ass on the couch and a foot on the coffee table, but once she’d spoken, the football hypnotization broke. He bolted to his feet. “Ah, yeah. I’m not much of a painter or anything.”
His awkwardness made her smile. “I know.” Trey made her way around the living room slowly, taking everything in. The first time she’d set foot in the apartment hadn’t left a lot of time to study his belongings, being as how they’d been otherwise engaged, but after four years together, she’d memorized every stain in the carpet and even measurements between the walls. She inhaled slowly, taking in the faint smell of his cologne. God, she’d missed it. She’d missed him. Her eyes darted toward the man consuming her thoughts. “Doesn’t look like you’ve had much company.” It wasn’t her business who’d set foot into this apartment, but she wanted to know. Was he dating? Did he like someone in town? Was it someone she knew? The questions were never-ending when it came to Luke.
“Not really into socializing.”
“’Cause of work?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Suddenly, the newspapers on the couch became his focus. He worked to arrange and straighten them quickly. “You can sit down if you want.”
Trey looked at her watch. “I have to go.” She gave him a smile that usually set him at ease, but something didn’t feel right about it. “I have an appointment.” She hadn’t intended to add the last part. It wasn’t his business. He knew what she did for work, but for some reason, she felt he deserved an explanation.
“What kind of appointment?” His voice had an edge of steel, mentally knocking her off balance.
She didn’t know how to answer. He never used that tone with her. Trey tried to convince herself the change in mood occurred because he’d taken a job with Parkvista’s Police Department, not because he still cared for her. Cops didn’t like the town’s citizens breaking the law. “Doctor’s appointment.” In the sense that someone will be giving me a physical.
He knew she’d told a lie. She could see it in his eyes, in the way his body tensed.
“I was hoping we were past all the lying,” he said.
“What do you want me to say, Luke?” Trey relaxed slightly, defeated. “That I’m meeting a client? Fine. I’m meeting a client.”
“Why?”
She didn’t understand the question. There were too many possibilities. Why was she meeting a complete stranger at noon? Why did she degrade herself every day for someone who’d stopped loving her years ago? Why did she leave him two years ago?
Luke strode across the living room. His body had always been twice as wide as hers and nearly half her size taller. It didn’t scare her. It made her feel safe. “What is he holding over your head to make you sleep with every man in Parkvista?”
Trey couldn’t meet eyes. She wanted to tell him everything, but the thought almost made her cry. If she told him, his life wouldn’t be t
he same ever again. “I have to go.”
He stepped in front of her. “I’m a cop, Trey. I can’t knowingly let you leave to commit a crime.”
“You going to arrest me, Officer Johnson?” Please, please stop me, she begged mentally. Make me stay. She walked toward the door.
“Just promise me one thing.”
Trey stopped inside the half-open door and waited without looking back. If she let herself look at him, she might never leave.
“Don’t get hurt.”
She nodded only once, unable to promise that or anything else.
****
Luke knew he shouldn’t be there, but Trey hadn’t given him any answers.
The junkyard was smaller than most he’d come across, but suited the size of Parkvista. The owners had no need to expand in a crashed economy.
He made his way toward the office-slash-trailer, leaning down to pet one of the slobbering pit bulls Lotus and Rachel Kerrigan used to guard the lot. “Worthless mutt,” he said, rubbing the dog’s belly. If an intruder were to come through the gates, he thought, all this dog would do was cozy on up to the guy. “Where’s Lotus?”
The dog gave a small yelp and the screen door of the run-down trailer swung open.
“Luke.” The rat-faced owner smiled. Missing teeth limited the man’s speech, specifically on the letter “s”, but Luke had grown up deciphering white trash lingo. “Wasn’t expecting you in these parts today.”
“Lotus, how you been?”
“Good, good.” Lotus’ hands worked at shining a piece of metal while they talked. Every few seconds the junkyard owner looked down at it, polishing the same spot over and over. “What brings you in?”
“Looking for a squatter. Mind if I take a look around?” he asked, his eyes searching the property for signs of habitation. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but Kerrigan Recycling wasn’t exactly his line of work.
“Well, I think I’d know if someone was livin’ in here, but sure, have at it.”
“Thanks. Say hello to Rachel for me.” Luke pivoted back the way he’d come. There wasn’t a lot of ground to cover, but Cal Aston could hide in any number of places. Abandoned outhouses pushed the smell of rotten sewage into his lungs. Nothing in the world could force him to live here and the thought made his stomach clench. Not everyone has the choice, he told himself, Trey’s smile flashing across his mind.
Old cars made up most of the junkyard and he couldn’t imagine Trey living in one of them. It made him cringe at the thought of her being forced to sleep in a backseat.
Section by section, Luke searched the leftover scraps of metal for any sign of clothing, the piles of paper for food, or anything else that would tell him where Cal forced his daughter to live. After an hour, he still had nothing to go off of.
Maybe he’d been wrong to assume Trey had been living here. The thought settled a small part of his anxiety, but not all. The sun had already gone down. Soon, Trey would come back and he couldn’t be caught here. He’d lose the trust she’d granted him earlier today. He glanced one last time over the property before turning to leave and that’s when he saw it.
A light, faint, but true.
It’d been impossible to see before, but now, with the sun going down, Luke knew his instincts had been right. His feet shuffled through the dirt, kicking up small puffs as he made his way toward the sheet of aluminum acting as a door. He didn’t even bother to hide his disgust.
“Cal Aston!” He banged on the door. “Cal!”
A grumble came from inside.
Luke stepped away. This wasn’t going to be a fight. He’d promised himself that beforehand, but couldn’t rein in the anger building in his chest.
The door wrenched aside, revealing a man Luke only recognized pieces of. The years hadn’t been good to him, he realized, pitying the son of a bitch. Thinner, hairier, and sickly, Cal Aston looked one step away from the grave. Pale blue eyes stared back at him, but couldn’t seem to focus on one spot for long.
“Cal,” he greeted.
Cal squinted as he stumbled into the sun, his hand trying to block the blinding light. Blood crusted the slopes of the old man’s knuckles, spreading an even greater heat throughout Luke’s chest. “Who’s that?”
“Luke Johnson, sir,” he said through gritted teeth. The sentiment didn’t fit the piece of shit too drunk to even recognize a man who’d gone to high school with his daughter.
“Luke, Luke, Luke,” Cal whispered, as if he were trying to sort through the haze. “What do you want?” The bottle he’d been holding thumped to the ground. The old man jumped at the sound.
“Can I come in?” Luke’s eyes darted into the hole the Aston had constructed from old cars and shivered.
“What for?”
Luke could feel his temper getting the best of him. This man had downgraded his daughter to live in poverty, to make her homeless, to guess where her next meal came from. The hole in Luke’s chest stretched with an indescribable pain. “We’re going to talk about Trey.”
Chapter Six
The shotgun in Luke’s face wasn’t the first he’d come across, but the crazy man behind it was something new. He’d never imagined Cal Aston as a violent man growing up, but times had obviously changed. “Cal, put the gun down.” His hands raised in surrender as he backed toward the exit of the shack.
“You come in here and tell me I’m pimping my daughter out. That I am forcing her to live like this! Boy, you don’t know a damn thing. ” Any second now, Cal would lose it.
Luke could see it in the man’s eyes. Cal’s light blue pupils had restricted into pinpoints, suggesting either the man had taken up narcotics abuse in the last few seconds or would pull that trigger without thinking twice. Luke bet on the latter. “I’m a cop. You know that. I just came to talk.”
“Talk,” he scoffed. “Bullshit. I know a vendetta when I see one, boy.”
Cal had him there. “Look, I know you never meant for this to happen. I just want to help her.”
“You think you know everything,” Cal said, shaking with derisive laughter. “Didn’t you wonder why she left you? Why she just up and disappeared one day?” He lowered the shotgun. “That was her decision. Not mine.”
Luke didn’t have an answer. Of course he’d wondered where Trey had gone and why, nearly every day since she left, but now he wondered what the old man knew. What was he missing?
Cal stumbled again, his finger still on the trigger of the shotgun. If he weren’t careful, Luke would have to take him down to Saint Rose’s emergency room for shooting his own damned foot off.
“Is there a problem, Cal?” a voice asked from the door.
Luke turned to find Lotus, the junkyard owner, at the door with his own gun. So much for honesty, he thought. “We’re just having a conversation, Lotus. This isn’t any of your business. Go on back to the office.”
“I was talkin’ to Cal, Officer.” Lotus waited patiently, his own shotgun raised to Luke’s chest. His hands trembled.
Cal had Lotus in his pocket, but the man obviously didn’t want to pull that trigger. Luke wouldn’t make him either.
“You got five seconds to get outta my house,” Cal slurred. He tried to right himself, but the gun threw him off balance.
Luke wasn’t sure what else to do. Two against one and no weapon. “Yes, sir.”
“And don’t come around here no more. I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter. You hear me?” Real anger tinted the words, a threat Cal hadn’t made clear.
He nodded, but knew this wouldn’t be the end of it. Trey had gotten him involved in something and nothing short of his death would keep him from finding out what she’d done.
****
“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you?”
Soft hands ripped Trey’s grasp on the door handle away. The knife her client had been holding struck the wall beside her head as he pushed her face first against the door. Playtime had ended a long time ago. Now, she fought for her life.
“P
lease,” she whispered into the paint. “Just let me go. I won’t tell—”
“Shut up!” He slammed her head into the wall and Trey buckled to the floor.
The room began to spin. The injury clouded her memory to the point she couldn’t even remember where she’d ended up. Her ears felt stuffed with cotton, her mouth dry. She looked up into the eyes of the man standing above her, but didn’t recognize him.
“I’ve waited a long time for someone like you,” he said. “You’re strong. Tough. I like that.”
Trey couldn’t be sure, but she swore the room got brighter.
The man who’d been there a second ago backed toward the opposite side of the room, away from her, awkwardly. “Listen, man, we were just having some fun. I wasn’t going to do anything.”
Another figure appeared above her, but all too soon, the fog in her head grew too thick. Panic threatened to overwhelm her. She had to escape. She had to go back home to give her father the money, but Trey’s body would not comply. Darkness slowly settled around her vision then completely consumed the man staring down at her.
When she opened her eyes, Trey felt heavy. Her entire body had seized up on her and she couldn’t remember the reason. She recognized the smell of her mattress, the combination of dirt and mold, filling her nostrils.
“You’re awake,” someone said.
A hand holding a glass of water appeared before her eyes.
She took the cup, pushing herself upright.
“How you feeling?”
“I—” She swallowed, popping her ears. It hurt, but she wouldn’t allow it to show. “I don’t know. What happened?”
Her father’s eyes connected with hers, the blue depths softer than she ever remembered them being. Hope blossomed in her chest. Her life had been at risk back at that motel and her father had come to her rescue. Nothing in the world could change the relief flooding through every vein in her body. He’d saved her. He’d brought her home, laid her down and taken care of her. The small portion of love for him she’d buried deep down swelled, practically choking her. Tears stung beneath her eyelids and she quickly wiped them away. A smile almost pulled at the edges of her mouth, but Trey held it back as she tried to string her last memories together. She was met with only one short clip: her client’s face. “Where is he?”
White Trash Beautiful Page 3
