by Beck, J. L.
Turning toward me, he says, “He will not get away with this, Emerson. I understand why you don’t want to talk, and why you think someone like him will never be held accountable for the abuse that they caused, but I’m telling you right now…” His jaw tightens, and the look in his eyes takes a dark turn. “He will pay, one way or another. He hurt you and I refuse to let someone like him, scum like him, walk this planet.”
“It’s over, Clark. I doubt he’ll ever mess with us again, we have nothing to worry about.” I reach across the seat and place my hand on his. I can’t let him risk his future, his life for me, for something that happened a few times when I was a teenager. Yes, he raped me, and hurt me, and ruined my life, but I’ve bloomed into a flower in a new garden and my future is bright and filled with happiness. I don’t want Clark to do something stupid that will rip all of that away from me.
“What if he does it to someone else, or already has? You could be saving someone else? What if there are others?”
My throat tightens. I can’t imagine something like that without feeling the need to vomit.
“I… I don’t know. I would never want someone else to go through what I did, but he’s a lawyer, Clark, and it would be my word against his. I mean, who would believe me? If I told my father, he wouldn’t even believe me. He thinks that I’m a whore, some girl who got knocked up from partying too much. Anything I say will be twisted into a mess that makes me look bad.” My voice cracks and I feel the tears stinging my eyes. I wish my mother was still alive, because I know she would’ve protected me, would’ve made sure nothing like this ever happened to her little girl. Where my father failed, my mother never would’ve.
Sucking in a hard breath, Clark lets his head fall back against the seat, and his eyes drift closed, and I take the opportunity to unbuckle my seatbelt and crawl across the bench seat and into his lap. He tenses for a moment but then wraps his arms around me as I snuggle deeper into his chest. Home. He is my home.
“Don’t risk what we have for him. He’s already taken so much from me, and I can’t bear to lose you, Clark. You’re the one thing that matters most to me, and if he takes you, if we try and fight him and we end up losing each other because of him, then he wins all over again.” I clutch onto his shirt with desperation, as if he’s going to disappear into thin air.
Squeezing me tighter, as if he’s trying to embed me into his skin, he says, “Nothing, and I mean nothing will ever take you away from me and I’ll always be here, and always love you. But he will get what’s coming to him, even if I’m not the one that delivers the final blow.”
His words should soothe me, and in a way, they do, but they also scare me, because if Clark isn’t going to hurt Rick, then who is?
65
Clark
A few days pass, and I let myself stew over my next move. I know what I need to do, what I will do, no matter what. I didn’t think I would ever be the type of person to wish death on someone, but Rick has that dark need stirring inside of me. Rick deserves everything that’s coming to him, which makes my decision easy.
The next morning, Vance and Ava swing by the condo to pick up Emerson. I hate lying to her, but I tell her my father has some work for me to do and needs to talk to me about it. It’s not a full lie since I will be speaking with my father, but it’s one that leaves me feeling guilty as she gives me a kiss goodbye. Once she’s inside the car with Vance and Ava, I head back up the steps and into the house. Closing the door behind me, I head into the living room and sag down onto the sectional. I pull my cell out of my pocket and scroll through my phone, finding my father’s number in the recent calls list. I hit the green call button and shove all the guilt, and shame down. I can’t feel bad when I’m doing this for her.
He answers on the third ring. “Clark, son, is everything okay?” I don’t miss the worried note in his voice, which is something I still haven't gotten used to. I wonder a few times if the entire thing is an act, a ploy to draw me closer to him, but even if it is, I don’t care. Right now, I need his resources more than I need anything else.
“No, I need to talk to you. Emerson won’t be home for the next few hours. Can you come here so we can talk?”
“Okay, I’ll be over in about thirty minutes.”
The call disconnects and I drop the phone to the cushion beside me. I get up and do some mindless cleaning, feeling the need to do something with my hands before I leave and go find Rick myself. I’m in the middle of sweeping the kitchen floor when the sound of the doorbell fills the house.
Setting the broom down, I jog to the door, pulling it open with much more force than needed. On the other side stands my father, in his suit, his eyes flick up to mine and I gesture for him to come in. He steps inside and I close the door behind him. His eyes dart over the furniture, TV, and light art that we have on the walls. I surely hope he doesn’t plan to comment on the place because I can’t handle any such discussions.
“As your father, I’m disappointed in myself that I didn’t get to see this place before you bought it. I don’t want you making bad buying decisions.”
I shrug. “I didn’t ask you to come over here so we could talk real estate. I asked you here to talk about this scumbag, Rick. Please tell me you got some dirt on him. Something that will actually hold in court?”
My dad’s frown deepens, and I know he doesn’t have good news to share with me before he even opens his mouth. “Rick might be scum, but unfortunately, he isn’t stupid. He’s covered his tracks well which isn’t surprising since he’s a lawyer, and any of the times he didn’t, he made certain no one would talk. We found some other girls, but none of them are willing to talk. It’s not looking good, son. All we can do is wait and hope he slips up or that someone is brave enough to come forward and testify. In cases like this, it normally takes one person to come forward and only then do others follow. The problem here is no one wants to be the first. These girls are scared, and rightfully so, this process isn’t an easy one, and it’ll be brutal at times, but that’s the way the legal system works. There is nothing I can do when I have no victims that want to speak out against him.”
I can’t help myself, my fist makes contact with the closest object, which happens to be a nearby lamp. It falls to the ground with a heavy crash, shattering into a million pieces. My chest heaves up and down, the raging bull of anger threatening to break free. I need to get myself under control, calm down, and think clearly.
Nostrils flaring, I say, “I need your help, we need to get rid of Rick, there must be something we can do? He attacked Emerson again, on campus this time.” I pause, exhaling a ragged breath to try and calm myself. “If you don’t help me, then I won’t be held responsible for what I do.”
“Whoa, slow down, son.” He puts his hands up in the air. “That’s… did you talk to Emerson and see what she wanted to do?”
Like I wouldn’t talk to her first.
“Of course, and she didn’t want to press charges. She is scared shitless and like you, she believes that nothing will come of going to the police. That it will be her word against his, but I don’t care, I won’t let him get away with this. I won’t have her worried about him popping up wherever she is. She can’t live the rest of her life in fear because of him.” I can’t stop thinking about it. Like I’m obsessed with the thought of needing him gone, wiped from existence. I love Emerson, more than anything in the world. I have to do this for her. I will do this for her.
There is a long pause where my father and I just stare at each other. He knows I’m not kidding that I will do this on my own if need be. After a few more moments, his lips part and he says, “There is something else we can do, but it has to be a last resort. I want you to think about this very hard before you make a decision. This isn’t something you can take back after it’s done.”
Fuck yes.
“I don’t have to think about it. My conscience will be lighter the minute we finish this. If there is a way to get rid of this guy, then we need to make i
t happen.”
I expect my father to be shocked by the statement, but if anything, it seems he expected me to say it.
“I know of someone who… let’s say is above the law, at least in this town. Someone who might be able to help us with your problem.”
“Tell me,” I order, the blood in my veins all but singing with joy.
“His name is Xander Rossi, and he is the head of the Rossi crime family. I’ve done some small work for him and he’s always said if I needed anything, I could come to him. I never had any use for his offer until now, but I’m sure it still stands.”
“How do I contact him? Do you have a number?” I barely let him finish his sentence before I ask.
“Let me talk to him. I’ll explain the situation and set up a meeting. He’s a very dangerous man, Clark, a criminal, and not someone you can just call up and ask to get a coffee with. Despite that, I can tell you that he is a fair man, he doesn’t condone women getting hurt, and if anyone can make sure that Rick pays his dues, it’s going to be Xander.”
“Well, get on with it. I don’t care what we need to do, or how much I have to pay. I don’t ever want Emerson to fear going to college or leaving the house again. I want this over with.” My eyes catch on the glass on the floor and I feel the need to clean up the mess. Fuck, I shouldn’t have broken that lamp.
“I understand, son, and it will happen, just let me get in touch with him and see what he has to say.”
“Fine,” I say. “But if he can’t do it, then I’ll do it myself.”
* * *
It took my dad a few days, but he finally came through as shocking as it is. Xander Rossi agreed to meet with me this morning, and now I’m about to walk into a private backroom in one of the most prestigious establishments in North Woods. I’m nervous, to say the least, but ready to put this behind us.
“Please, sir, follow me.” The skinny waiter ushers me forward, leading me through the dimly lit restaurant. I’m getting intense murder vibes as we continue walking. In the back, tucked into a hidden corner, he opens a door for me, a door that I never even saw, with an impatient look, he waves his arm for me to enter.
Gritting my teeth, I force myself to bite my tongue. No need to start an argument with the impatient wait-staff. I step into the room and the waiter closes the door behind me, the soft click of the door closing filling my ears.
Yup, I’m going to get murdered.
Looking directly in front of me there is only one large table, and it sits smack dab in the center of the room, and at that table sits one man.
“You must be Clark, come on and, sit down,” he orders. “I took the liberty of ordering you a drink, I hope that’s okay?”
I nod, taking the single seat across from him. He’s intimidating, oozing danger from every pore of his body. Yeah, I wouldn’t fuck with this guy, not in a million years. Needing something to calm the nerves wreaking havoc on my body, I pick up the glass of amber liquid and bring it to my lips, the smokey, but sweet waft of whiskey permeates my nostrils. This shit smells stronger and more expensive than my father’s. Nonetheless, I take a drink and let the warmth coat my insides.
“Your father told me a little bit about your... dilemma. I invited an associate of mine to join us, he should be here soon.”
Before I can answer, the door opens again and someone else walks in. Someone just as dangerous and deadly looking as Xander himself.
“Luke, just in time. Come sit,” Xander calls out as if he is genuinely happy to see the guy walk in. Who would be happy to see a guy like that?
The guy named Luke steps forward, his gaze flickering between Xander and me as if he is assessing the situation before he opens his mouth to speak.
“Xander, I told you I’m done with these kinds of jobs. I shouldn’t even be here.” It’s obvious something is eating away at him, the conflict on his face proving it. Whoever this guy is, is the one who’s going to be doing the job for me.
Xander leans back in his chair, a glass of whiskey in his hands. “I think you’ll want to make an exception for this. Hear the kid out.”
His jaw tenses and his eyes flick to me. “Out with it,” he growls, crossing his arms over his chest.
“I need you to take someone out for me. He’s a rapist who has hurt numerous women, women who are minors, one including my girlfriend. None of the women will go to the police because of who he is and are too afraid to come forward. I don’t blame them one bit, but I won’t let the bastard continue to hurt people. My father told me Xander could make this guy pay, so if he can’t then let me know and I’ll find someone else.”
Luke’s face is a mask of steel, no emotion, nothing, and I worry that maybe I’ve gone too far, but then just as sweat starts to bead against my forehead he lets out a low chuckle.
“If we can’t do it, you’ll find someone else?” I can’t tell if he’s joking or being a smartass or asking a legit question.
“Yeah…”
“Hate to break it to you, but there is no one else. It’s just me, and even though I’ve chosen to quit this life, I’ll make an exception because fuckers like that don’t deserve to walk the earth.”
“Perfect!” Xander exclaims, clapping his hands together.
“What do we owe you?” I pipe up, taking another gulp of whiskey.
Luke smiles, but it’s not a friendly smile, it’s a predatory smile, one that makes your insides twist and your body throw up a red warning sign that says run.
“No charge, kid. This one is on the house. It’ll be a pleasure for me to get rid of this dude. Leave the details with Xander and I’ll personally deliver the news to you when it’s done.”
Never in a million years did I think I would find myself in a situation like this, going to someone to have someone killed. I know I should be freaking out, worried that someone will find out, but no one will. These men know what they’re doing and even if someone did find out, that’s a risk I’m willing to take to get rid of this fucker. Never again will he touch Emerson. As soon as he breathes his last breath, she’ll be free, we both will.
“Thank you. I look forward to hearing the good news.” I smile before downing the rest of my drink. It burns a path of fire down my throat, warming my body all over. If doing this makes me a bad man, then I guess I’m a bad man for taking care of the woman I love.
“See ya soon, kid,” Luke says, waltzing out of the room.
I glance over to Xander who is smiling, amusement glittering in his eyes. “Give me all the details, kid, and I’ll be sure Luke gets them.”
And so I tell him everything I know about the piece of shit.
66
Emerson
Clark has been acting weird, and not in a bad way, but a strange way. He’s been more carefree, less brooding and angry. He hasn’t asked me about Rick anymore, hasn’t tried to push me into going to the police. It’s almost like after our talk, he’s let go of the idea of going after him. If I knew speaking out would one hundred percent guarantee that he would be sentenced then I would do it, but Rick is a manipulator, an abuser, and horrible person.
It would be nothing more than my word against his, and I couldn’t stand to relive the memories of my past with him for it to do me no good. I want him to pay, more than anything, and I want to bring him to justice, but I’m not going to stand in front of an entire courtroom full of people reliving my worst nightmare knowing that they would probably not believe me. It pains me to know he walks free, and I do have a fear that he could possibly hurt someone else, but I can’t bring myself to think about that. I need to believe that I was and will be the only one, I need this for my sanity.
I will forever carry around the memories of what he did to me, the scars, but that’s just how it is. It’s my burden to carry and mine alone. I can’t do anything about it.
I pull the pizza out of the oven and set it on the stovetop when someone knocks at the door. Slipping off the oven mitts, I throw them on the counter on my way to the door. At this time of ni
ght, it can only be Vance and Ava who decided to stop by. I don’t even look to check who it is before I open the door, ready to greet my friends.
When I don’t find Vance or Ava behind the door, my lighthearted mood fades away and is replaced by heart-pounding fear. I take in the tall, muscular man in front of me. I’ve never seen him before, but one look is all I need to tell me something very important about him. He is dangerous. I can see it in his gaze and in the way he carries himself, I can feel it in the air surrounding him.
My self-preservation instinct kicks in and I slam the door shut in his face. Unfortunately his reflexes are faster. Stopping the door with his foot, he wedged himself into the space. I step back, trying to put distance between us, almost falling over my own two feet in the process.
He holds up his hands showing me his palms as if showing me that he doesn’t have a weapon would calm me down somehow. Something tells me that this guy doesn’t need a weapon to do damage.
“I come in peace,” he announces while stepping into the living room like he owns the place. “You must be Emerson.”
“I-I don’t know you…” How does this guy know my name?
“I’m Luke,” he says calmly, closing the door behind him. Who invited this guy in?
“Luke?” Clark’s voice chimes through the house. Looking over my shoulder even though my gut tells me not to turn my back on this Luke guy, I find Clark heading toward us.
His hair is still wet from the shower he just took as he rushes to my side. “It’s okay, Em. Luke is a friend.”
“A friend?” How could this guy possibly be a friend of Clark’s? He looks more like an assassin or hitman, but friend? Pff, no way.
