by Beth Flynn
“Fine,” he said without looking at her.
She sat up and leaned toward him, giving him a sleepy smile. “Think you can give me a ride back to the bar?” She reached out to gently move her hand up and down his arm. It was so big and muscular, and covered entirely in tattoos.
He headed toward the door. “You can sleep here tonight if you want. Get someone to take you back in the morning. I’m going to bed.”
“Grizz, why don’t you come back over here. You can sleep here right next to me,” she said, patting the spot next to her. “And when we wake up tomorrow morning, we can make love again and it’ll be so much better without the rubber. You’re so big they can’t be comfortable on you, honey.”
His hand was on the doorknob, but he stopped and looked back at her.
“Let’s get a few things straight, Chicky.” The name, when he used it, sounded more like a taunt than a tease, and she shivered. “I will never screw you without a rubber. I will never invite you or any woman into my bed. And I will never make love to you. I don’t make love to women. I fuck them. It’s that simple. Don’t try to make it into anything more.”
And with that, he walked out the door, closing it behind him.
Chapter Eighteen
2000
Ginny carefully took her small suitcase down from the top shelf of the closet she shared with Tommy.
She harrumphed to herself as she thought of Tommy’s concern about her going to her old house. The one she’d shared with Grizz for five years. She’d been there many times to visit Carter. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so easy in the beginning. But after she’d settled into her happy marriage with Tommy, it really wasn’t difficult at all. She’d gotten to the point where she could go without remembering the nightmare of Grizz’s arrest. Ever since she was a kid she’d been very strong-minded, always able to block out something unpleasant.
She carried the suitcase to the bed and laid it down. She unzipped it and went to her dresser to get some things. Besides, she told herself, it wasn’t the bad memories she had a hard time forgetting. It was the good ones.
Her mind drifted back to a time when she had been happy. Really happy. She’d been living in her new home with Grizz and hadn’t returned to the motel even once.
“So Grizz, I have at least four options picked out for us.” She had just walked into the bathroom. He was standing at the sink shaving. He gave her a sidelong glance.
“Four options for what, Kit? What are you talking about?”
“The summer concerts. Remember you told me you would take me to a concert? You promised me after I went to Black Sabbath with you that you would go to one that I liked.”
He tapped his razor on the side of the sink and flashed a guilty look. “Uh, yeah. Guess I forgot about that. But you liked Black Sabbath, right? You wanted to go with me?”
“Yeah, I like them, but that wasn’t the deal. They’re your group, not mine. I went to keep you company.” She grinned at him in the mirror, then wrapped her arms around his waist from behind.
“And sitting on my shoulders for two hours so you could see the whole show wasn’t a little perk for you?”
She let go and went to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Of course it was a perk and I’ve never heard you complain about me having my legs wrapped around your head before.”
He had just rinsed off his face and was reaching for a towel when he started laughing and looked at her. “Sorry, Kitten, I didn’t mind having you up there, but you were facing the wrong way.”
She grabbed the towel out of his hand and snapped it at him. “You always turn everything back to sex.”
“You’re the one who mentioned having your legs wrapped around my head.” He pulled her close. “Let’s go back to bed. We don’t have to be anywhere this early. C’mon.”
She got serious then. “No. I have school and I want to get there early to spend some time with Carter. I’m sure it hasn’t crossed your mind, but she said the guy who’s been bothering her seems to have disappeared or found someone else to stalk. Still, I know she’s been worried.”
Ginny had told Grizz about a man who was causing her college friend some agony. Carter had gone on one date with him, and when she was busy the following weekend, he’d taken it personally and started harassing her. The last straw for Carter was when she’d found a dead animal on the driver’s seat of her car. The sicko had actually killed a raccoon and broken in to leave it for her. Actually, they never did figure out if he killed it on purpose or accidentally ran over it and saw it as an opportunity to mess with Carter. Regardless, it prompted her to go to the police and take out a restraining order on him. Ginny guessed it had finally scared him off.
“Good for Carson,” Grizz said.
“Carter.” Ginny elbowed him. “For goodness sake, you can’t even remember her name!”
He gave her a half smile and leaned back against the bathroom sink. He crossed his arms in front of him and said, “Okay, let’s hear your concert list. And there better not be any Bee Bees on there.”
She shook her head and bit her lip in exasperation. “They’re the Bee Gees, and believe me, I know better than to ask you to take me to see them. Okay, so, the first one is at the end of May. Blondie.”
He shook his head no.
She looked back at her list. “Okay, there are two in June. We can see Boston, and you know how much I love them, or we can see Styx.”
“No. I don’t want to see them. What else you got?”
“Journey is playing in July.” She looked up at him hopefully. “I know these aren’t your favorites, but I listen to them, and I know you like them a little bit.”
“Keep going, honey. How about the fifth option?” he pointed to her paper.
She looked down at it, then back up at him. “I didn’t write down a fifth option. There wasn’t anybody else I wanted to see.”
He leaned over her and pointed to the paper. “Sure it’s there. See? Option five.”
“Grizz, there is no option five. Stop being ornery.”
“I see it clear as day from here and it’s the one I want.”
She laid her list on the bathroom counter and put her hands on her hips. “Okay, let’s hear it. What is option five?” She knew he was going to rattle off a string of his favorite bands.
“Option five is the one where I stick an ice pick in my eye instead of going to one of your concerts.”
She swiped the paper, scrunched it up, and threw it at him. “You are not funny! And I think risking certain blindness and possible death instead of taking your wife to a concert is telling me something, and I don’t appreciate it!”
She started to walk out of the bathroom, but he caught her in his arms and held on to her. She struggled to get free. “Let me go. You make my blood boil and I hate it when you do it on purpose. I said to let me go!”
“I’m teasing with you, baby,” he said, his voice soothing and kind. “I’ll take you to any concert you want to go to.”
She calmed down then. “What’s the catch?”
“Why does there have to be a catch?” he asked, inhaling her scent as he nuzzled her neck. He never seemed to tire of it. As a matter of fact, he always had the opposite reaction, seemed to crave it more and more.
“What’s the catch?” she asked again, a more serious tone in her voice.
“I just thought that maybe you could come to one of my meetings. A lot of old ladies will be there.”
“I’m not an old lady.”
“You’re my old lady and you know it. C’mon, honey, you don’t come with me enough.”
“I hate going. I don’t fit in with the other ‘old ladies.’” She had freed her hands and made the last comment with air quotes.
“Everyone is nice to you.”
As if they had a choice. “I know that. It’s just that this—this life has never been right for me and you know that. I thought moving away from the motel would be the end of it for me. I know you have to go there still and go to your di
fferent meetings. But I don’t.”
She bit her lip and looked up at him. “You really won’t go to a concert with me if I don’t go to a meeting with you?”
“I’ll take you to your concert. I really just needed a favor. Actually, Anthony needs the favor.”
He knew the minute she realized what he was asking. “Christy. He still doesn’t have a handle on Christy?” She let out a breath. “We’ve seen them this past year. She seems fine. They seem fine.”
“Hell, I don’t know. Maybe she’s having a change of heart.”
“I don’t see how I can change her heart. They’ve been together for a while now. I can’t picture him making her stay.”
“Exactly, Kit. He won’t make her stay, but something’s up, and he’s afraid she’s going to leave. He doesn’t know what’s going on and wants you to talk to her. That’s all. See if there’s something she’s not telling him.”
Ginny remembered that meeting now, as she threw the final items into her suitcase, and how she did talk to Christy. And boy, something had been up, all right. But Christy and Anthony moved on from there. They’d been happily married ever since, had gone on to have two sons and a daughter. Slade was their oldest. He was three years older than Mimi. Their middle son, Christian, was Mimi’s age. And their little girl, Daisy, was five years younger than Jason. As far as Ginny knew, they had a more than stable marriage now, but things were pretty rough for them back then.
With a hint of a smile, she also remembered how Grizz took her to see Boston.
And she’d had the best seat in the house.
Her packing was finished. It was time to go downstairs.
Time to say goodbye to Tommy.
Chapter Nineteen
1973
Grizz was lying on the bed in number seven, Willow on top of him, when Chowder banged on the door and finally just walked in.
“I kept walking by number four and hearing your phone ring,” Chowder said, hands up in apology. “I finally went in and answered it. Guido needs to talk to you.”
He left the room and Grizz flung Willow off of him. If Guido was calling the motel, it was because of Ginny.
He pulled his jeans on and quickly but calmly walked back to his room and picked up the telephone receiver lying on the kitchen counter.
“What?”
“Just thought you might want to know there’s a cop car parked in front of the house next door. Two cops went in.”
“Is it the parents? They fighting or something?”
“Don’t know. Haven’t heard them or anything. Never seemed to have that kind of problem before.”
“You think they caught whiff of the mom’s side business?”
“Can’t say, boss. All seems quiet. They didn’t show up with sirens on or guns drawn or anything like that.”
“Watch the house. Call me when they leave.”
“You got it, Grizz.”
They hung up. Grizz stood next to the phone for a minute, lost in thought. He felt arms tighten around his waist from behind.
“C’mon back to number seven, darlin’. Or let’s go in your bedroom and finish what we started.” Willow was trying to unzip his jeans.
He couldn’t think. He couldn’t concentrate. He certainly was no longer in the mood to get it on with Willow. He yanked her roughly around to face him.
“Get the fuck out.”
She pouted. “C’mon baby. I don’t know what upset you so bad, but I know I can get your mind off it.”
He stared at her for a few seconds and relented. He grabbed her by the shoulders and roughly shoved her to her knees in front of him. She started to object as he unzipped his jeans all the way, then forced her face between his legs, but something in his expression stopped her.
He leaned back against the kitchen counter and closed his eyes, letting it happen. When she’d finished, Willow stood up to lean into him, hoping for a kiss, especially a kiss, or any type of gesture.
What she got was a snub. “Now you can get the fuck out.”
Ten minutes later, his phone rang. He listened to Guido, hung up without comment, and dialed another number.
“It’s me. There was a call to an address on Southwest 23rd Avenue. Cops were there about twenty, maybe thirty minutes ago. What do you know?” He listened as the person on the other end of the line talked.
He hung up. Fuck, man. What had Ginny gotten herself involved in?
Two months passed. Late one night, a small group was sitting around the pit. It was almost midnight and Grunt was getting ready to go inside. A car pulled into the motel and parked in front of the units. Before the owner had cut the engine, Grizz stood and started walking towards the car.
Grunt knew the car, too—it belonged to Ginny’s neighbor, Guido.
Grunt could never remember one instance of Guido being at the motel. Why was he here now? Grunt jumped up and followed Grizz at a distance.
“Why are you here?” Grizz demanded, fists clenched. “Is she okay?”
“Calm down, big guy, she’s—” Before Guido could finish his sentence, Grizz had instinctively grabbed him by the throat, his anxiety at Guido’s presence evident.
So this was about Ginny. Grunt felt an immediate stab of fear, but he quickly steadied himself. He also knew they wouldn’t learn anything if Grizz continued to hold Guido by the throat.
“Grizz, let him go,” Grunt calmly said. “Let him tell you what’s going on.”
Grizz let go of him as quickly as he’d grabbed him.
“She’s fine,” Guido gulped. “But it’s a good thing I got to her when I did.”
Then he explained everything: how he’d been sitting on his front porch smoking a joint when some guy pulled up and parked partially on his lawn. Walked right up to Ginny’s house and knocked on the door. Guido had been shocked when she’d let him in the house. She was a smart girl and he knew her parents weren’t there. Something wasn’t right.
Guido walked over to the front of her house and peered inside one of the windows that flanked the front door. Good thing he did. The guy had Ginny pinned to the floor. He was holding her hands over her head with one hand and was using his other hand to alternately try and cover her mouth while trying to undo his jeans. Guido tried the doorknob. The deadbolt was in place. That bastard must have locked it behind him when Ginny let him in. That’s when Guido started beating on the door, threatening to call the police. The man jumped off of her and went out the back sliding glass doors. Ginny got herself up and ran to let Guido in. He started to chase the guy out the back doors, but stopped when he noticed the kitchen wall that used to have a phone mounted on it. The guy must have yanked it off on his way out. Guido told Ginny to use the phone at his house to call the police. That’s when they heard the truck engine start and the guy take off.
“She wouldn’t leave the house to call the police,” Guido sputtered, keeping a safe distance from Grizz. “Kept insisting she had to wait for her parents to get home. So I hightailed it back to my place, called Smitty’s, and told them to get their asses home. I’ve been calling you, too. Figured it was important enough for me to drive out here.”
“I want to know who this guy is and I want to know before dawn,” Grizz growled.
“Already know who he is,” Guido replied. “Johnny Tillman. Knew the girl’s parents from Smitty’s.”
Grizz squinted in concentration. He’d never heard the name before.
“Did the police show up and make a report?”
Guido nodded.
“Come inside.”
Guido and Grunt followed Grizz into number four. He picked up the phone and dialed a number.
“It’s me. An assault or attempted rape report was made in the last few hours. What do you know?” After a few minutes Grizz said, “You will find him and bring him to me.” Another pause. “I don’t care if someone else picks him up. You figure out a fucking way to intervene and get him. You can say later that he got away from you.” Another pause. “Are you questioning me?
What the fuck do I care about your reputation? You will find this bastard and you will make sure he is delivered to me. I’ll let you know if my guys find him first.”
Without waiting for a reply, Grizz hung up.
They wordlessly followed him back out to the pit. There were about five or six guys lounging in flimsy lawn chairs around a dying fire. It was getting late and people were getting ready to go home or crash in one of the old rooms. A plump blonde was sitting on Blue’s lap and whispering something in his ear.
“Listen up,” Grizz announced, his voice loud in the quiet night. “There is a man out there I want brought to me. Guido will tell you what he looks like and what he’s driving.” He nodded at Blue. “Blue will organize it so that you cover every possible street. Start with a two-mile grid beginning with Smitty’s on Davie Boulevard.”
Blue jumped up and the blonde fell to the ground giggling.
Grizz looked at the girl directly. “Tiny, make yourself useful for once. Use Chowder’s phone and make some calls. Tell them what I just told everyone.”
Without waiting for a reply he turned and walked back toward the motel, calling over his shoulder, “No one comes back here unless that fucker is on the back of someone’s bike.”
Chapter Twenty
1975, Federal Bureau of Investigation Headquarters,
Washington, D.C.
Special Director Michael Spiro had just hung up his telephone when his secretary buzzed him on the intercom.
“Yes?”
“Agent Pinelli is here to see you, sir.”
Director Spiro sighed and shook his head. “Send him in.”
He took a long draw on his cigarette and leaned back in his chair as the agent entered. Pinelli stood before his desk, hands gripping a folder, waiting.
“What can I do for you, Pinelli?”
Pinelli was the newest agent assigned to him. He was young but came with high references. Spiro had been impressed by the recommendations and thought that adding someone new might bring some fresh insight to the cases they were assigned.
