by KL Donn
“That’s a lie. My lawyer here?” I raise a brow as his eyes narrow.
“Nope.” The aggravation in his tone tells me all I need to know.
“He’ll be here soon, though. If you want me to talk to you about anything before he gets here and shuts me up, you’ll bring Delilah in here.” Crossing my arms on the table I’m chained to, I don’t lose eye contact. Slamming the folder shut in front of him, the man stands and leaves the room.
Two minutes later, he comes in with Delilah. And fuck does she look like a tall drink of water. Albeit a very pissed-off drink of water. I’m guessing they were ignoring her requests to know if I was here.
“You okay?” I ask her as she drops her purse on the table and pulls out a bottle of water, an iced coffee, and a packaged sandwich. “Read my mind, huh?”
I can hear her teeth grinding as she briefly turns and glares at the detective, daring him to tell her she can’t feed me. When he comes forward to take her purse, she snaps. “Don’t. You have searched it no less than four times in the last hour. Ignoring everything I’ve said, even when I would hear Crew asking for me and his lawyer, who will be here in”— she checks her watch—“fifteen minutes. As soon as he finds out you’ve denied Crew his basic rights, you’re in for a hell of a long night and days’ worth of paperwork. Don’t think I didn’t count the times you had officers patting me down. I began recording each one after the second.”
I chug the water as my rage returns. “You had them fucking touching her?” I snap as I stand. The man steps back before remembering he has a gun, and I don’t. “I will fucking ruin everyone in this department for that. You guys have had enough jabs at my family to know who I am, what I’m worth, and to know my money will get me whatever the fuck I want. Including you as the new window washer in my building. Hope you’re not afraid of heights.”
“You threatening me, Malcolm?” The detective reaches for Delilah’s arm, and the way she snarls at him makes me laugh.
“Touch me again, and I will scream rape so loud the reporters I called will hear me outside. And it will be you in his cuffs instead.” Delilah has such a placid personality that when her protective instincts come raging forward, it’s a sight to behold.
Before the detective can say anything else, Zack enters and shoves him out with the door in his face. “Delilah, nice to meet you in person.” Zack grins at her. A growl works up my throat as his eyes roam her body in the tight skirt suit she wears to work every day. “Relax, Crew. I understand she’s yours.”
“Anything?” I ask, knowing he’ll have already tried getting me out.
“They aren’t budging. I’m not sure why, but they are convinced she has Stockholm syndrome.” Placing his briefcase on the desk, Zack pulls out a bunch of paperwork. “I have a feeling I know who is behind this, though.” His gaze shifts to Delilah as she stares down at the photo peeking out of the folder.
“Matt isn’t this guy’s name. He’s the brother of one of your father’s victims. Until three months ago, Brad Peterson—his real name—was visiting Oliver weekly in prison.” Sitting down across from me, I get the feeling it’s about to get worse. “About two weeks after Brad moved here, the killings began. The replicas, copycats, whatever they want to call them. They started after he arrived. I believe, Delilah, he wanted you to be one of his victims in an ultimate way of saying fuck you to your father.”
Pale and shaking, I fucking hate that I can’t go to her. Hold her in my arms. “Li, baby, come here.”
Her head shakes back and forth. “Me? Again. All these women. All my fault.”
“Delilah.” I say her name firmly until she looks up at me. “You are not responsible for the actions of some asshole with a vendetta. Neither of those men can blame you for what they chose to do. Do you hear me?” She nods her head, but her eyes remain unfocused as she stares ahead of her.
“Look, we can’t do anything about that right now, and those are only my assumptions. Getting these jackasses to listen to anyone but themselves right now is going to be problematic. I don’t know what was given to them to convince them of your guilt but finding out is my first priority. So, Crew, do you need anything right now? Because it could be hours or days before you’re out.”
“Just need Li safe.” I can’t stop watching her. The deterioration of her emotions as she sits with this new information is heart-breaking and makes me want to commit a murder of my own.
“Your brothers are on their way. Todd is at Delilah’s house fixing up the broken window, and I’ve already instructed her that she’ll be staying in your penthouse until this mess is over with.”
“Why do her windows need to be fixed?” I knew there was no keeping my brothers away from here.
“She didn’t tell you?” Zack looks like a deer caught in the headlights as he turns to gaze at Delilah. “Fuck. Well, it seems someone broke into her house last night. Smashed it up and made a mess. Todd and two of his guys are there, as well as a local investigator I hired on my way here. She wasn’t trusting enough of the police to even call them. Todd did, and well, he wasn’t pleased with the results.”
“Hire whoever you have to in order to keep her safe, Zack. I don’t care what it costs.” Zack nods as he packs up his stuff. He doesn’t need to hear anything more from me to know these charges are bogus. Anyone with half a brain would simply listen to Delilah and move on with their lives. “The guy who arrested me, find out his name, what his issue is with me. He’s been gnawing on something for a long time to hold this kind of grudge.”
“On it,” he says and leaves the room, closing the door and instructing them that we need five minutes.
“Li, baby, come here. Please.” She slowly saunters forward, and as soon as she’s within reaching distance, I drag her down to my lap. Holding her the best that I can. “Talk to me, gorgeous. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
Immediately, she cries out, “I’m ruining your life.”
“Not even close.” But I understand why she feels that way. I’m the only decent man she’s had care about her, and now that things are getting complicated, she feels like it’s her fault. “You’re the best thing in my life, baby.” Kissing along her neck and cheek, I let her release her emotions because, right now, I can’t even show just how much she means to me. This is a woman who needs action over words because words have always brought her agony.
Chapter 8
Delilah
It’s been two days since Crew’s arrest, and the police and D.A.’s office are dragging their feet in turning over the evidence to Zack. First claiming they had to validate it, then it got lost. Zack has done everything he can to get what they need to release Crew, but it’s not working. Even his brothers Cross and Crux have raised quite the stir. I’ve been locked away in the penthouse at Crew’s request, so nothing happens to me because of this Brad guy. Nobody knows where he is at the moment, and another body turned up last night.
I put a plan in motion early this morning before anyone was awake, and I’m hoping it doesn’t backfire. Sneaking past the men sleeping in the living room, I slip out the door and into the elevator without incident. I already called down to the doorman and security guard to let them know I was on my way.
They’re waiting for me as the doors open. “Good morning, Miss Henderson.” Riley, the doorman, grins as Brock, the guard, nods his head.
“Gentlemen. They’re here?” I can already see the crowd outside the doors. “Showtime.” Forming fists, I dig my nails into my palms to help steady my nerves.
As soon as the door opens, the crowd erupts with a frenzy of questions. Ignoring everyone, I stand silently in front of the building and wait for them to calm down. As soon as there’s enough quiet to hear myself think, I speak. “My name is Delilah Henderson. I am the daughter of Miami’s Eighth Avenue Killer, and today, I’m asking for your help. Two days ago, the CPD came banging on my partner’s door with false accusations and has since withheld his freedom and right to proper representation. Crew Malcolm is a
pillar of the Charleston community. He came here ten years ago with the idea to create Malcolm’s Restorations and build some of the most beautiful homes, buildings, parks, and so much more. He has donated his time, supplies, and money to build three community parks. He has single-handedly funded the rebuilding of seven school playgrounds, and when the youth center in this community was about to shut down, he donated one million dollars to keep it open.”
Taking a deep breath, I can see in their eyes the questions burning to be asked. “Crew has been accused of kidnapping and imprisonment, and while his lawyer, Zack Pine, is here in the city, the CPD is refusing to hand over any evidence pertaining to these anonymous accusations that I know for a fact are false.”
“How do you know they’re false?” one reporter shouts.
“Who was he accused of kidnapping?” another asks.
“I know Crew is innocent because, according to the CPD, I am his victim. I’ve explained multiple times that I am no victim. That I was with Crew of my own free will. But they are choosing to ignore that because of one officer’s vendetta against Crew.”
Before anyone else can say anything, Zack, Cross, Crux, and the two bodyguards hired to protect me come bursting out the front door of the building behind me. “What do you think you’re doing?” Zack mutters in my ear.
“What I should have done two days ago,” I tell him before facing the crowd again. “These are Crew’s brothers, Cross and Crux. And his attorney, Zack.”
“Can you tell us about the vendetta?” someone asks.
Zack’s apologetic eyes find mine before he responds. “Yes, one officer, that I will not name to protect his family’s privacy, has been holding a grudge because, several years ago, before Crew and Delilah met, Crew had an affair with the man’s wife. It is unclear whether Crew knew she was married or not because, as Delilah has said, the CPD is not allowing us to see Crew or release this fabricated evidence they have. All we’re asking for is a bail hearing and evidentiary support of the accusations.”
“What does this have to do with the Eighth Avenue Killer?”
Zack shoots me a frustrated look as he answers. I told him I would use my past to get as much attention as possible. “Officially nothing. Unofficially, we believe the man behind this fiasco is Brad Peterson, the brother of one of Oliver Henderson’s victims. Peterson has also been frequently visiting Henderson in prison until his move here three months ago. Shortly thereafter, the copycat killings began. Logically, he’s who I would suspect if I were the police. And yes, we have handed over the complete report on Peterson to the authorities as well as our valid suspicions. We don’t know if they’ve done anything with them yet. We also know Brad has been using the name Matt on at least three dating apps, and that’s how he found Delilah.”
“Did she go on a date with him?”
Zack looks to me to answer. Stepping forward, I breathe out. “Yes, I did. We met for lunch. Before we even ordered, I walked out because of his attitude towards the staff. Not liking my rejection, he grabbed my arm”— I lift the sleeve of my shirt to show the bruising—“slammed me against my car and bit me.” Showing the photos of the bruising he left on my body, I feel violated all over again, but I’ll do anything for Crew.
Buzzing in my pocket has me pulling my phone out and glancing down to see the number for the correction center in Florida that my father is in. Tipping it to show Zack as he answers more questions, he raises a brow to tell me it’s my choice on answering.
Stepping behind Cross and Crux, they block me from view. “Hello?”
“That son of a bitch put his hands on you?” My father’s outraged voice fills the line as he’s obviously watching the press conference. “I warned him to stay the fuck away from you at all costs.”
“What do you mean?” I would never have thought he’d admit to knowing Brad.
“He’s been coming to me for years, bragging about killing girls down here until he could get to you. Because there were no reports of the murders he described, nobody took me seriously. When he said he was going to go public with his killings to torment you, I warned—no threatened—him to stay away from you.”
“What does he want with me?” I’m a nobody.
“To hurt me.” I was afraid of that.
“Will you talk to Zack? Tell him everything?”
“If it keeps you safe, yes.” A burst of fury erupts inside of me.
“Where was this protectiveness when you slit my throat? When I nearly died? What happened then?”
His audible sigh over the line can be felt as the breeze picks up. “I wasn’t right in the head, Deli. I was bitter and angry with your mother for dying. When I got caught, I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry. I wish, over everything I’ve done in my life, that I could take that back. Didn’t you get the letter I sent you?”
“I did, but why would I open it? I’ll have Zack get in touch with you.” Hanging up, I angrily wipe away the tears in my eyes. I hate that after all he’s done, he can still get to me. Staring at Zack between the brothers’ shoulders, he is a mastermind with the reporters as he answers what questions he wants and dodges others.
We spend an hour out here. I don’t speak again because, emotionally, I’m drained. I just want Crew home. I want him safe and free. I don’t have the wherewithal to respond to anything else they try to ask me.
When it’s finally over, I’m led inside in silence. The elevator ride up is quiet, but a thousand words are said between Zack, Cross, and Crux as they look between each other.
Too exhausted to put up with their censure, I immediately seek out the solace and comfort of where I feel Crew’s presence most. Stripping out of my clothes, I grab the shirt he put on me the day we came here and lie down in the middle of the bed. Pulling the covers up to my chin, I close my eyes and hope that when I open them again, I’ll have the news that Crew is coming home.
Chapter 9
Crew
“Malcolm!” I don’t bother to look up as my name is called. “You’re free to go.” Now that has me moving. Sitting up, the chains around my ankles and wrists rattle, annoying me further. They haven’t removed them since I arrived, and they’ve refused to allow me to even shower. Food was given to me three times a day, and I’ve been sharing a toilet with my cellmate.
“Free, huh?” I meet the guard’s stare as he unlocks the cell.
“Take it or leave it; your choice.” What a fucking joke. Nothing has been my choice in days.
Shuffling towards him, I hold out my hands for him to uncuff me. Reluctantly, he does so after slamming the cell shut behind me. As the shackles are removed from my ankles, I shake my legs out. Regarding the bruising and raw spots around my wrists, I give the guard a death stare. There’s no way what they chose to do to me was legal, and I’ll be sure Zack knows about it.
After going through discharge and signing the paperwork, they refuse to allow me to make a call, so I head outside. I’ve never given a thought to the police before, but now they’ve jaded my opinion of them all on their own.
I stride down the sidewalk until I see a cab outside a laundromat. I cross the street and nod at the driver. Waving me into the car, I give him my address, and we’re on our way. It takes minutes that feel like hours until we’re pulling up. My doorman, Riley, sees me exiting the vehicle and picks up the phone, presumably to call upstairs to Zack and Li. As I lean in to ask the driver to give me a couple minutes to go grab my wallet, the guard, Brock, rushes over and waves me off. “I’ve got it. They’re waiting for you upstairs.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll send Zack down with some cash.” Ignoring me, he carries on as I take the stairs two at a time, too impatient to wait for an elevator. Pushing through the door on my floor, I see Zack and both my brothers waiting by the elevator.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” I grin, relieved that they are. I might have busted their balls when they were each arrested, but I’m glad to see them both.
“Couldn’t miss you in cuffs, man
.” Crux laughs as he drags me in for a backslapping hug.
“Didn’t think I’d believe it until I saw it,” Cross points out as he pats me on the back.
“Zack, thanks for coming, man. For taking care of Li.” Dragging my brother’s best friend in for a hug, I squeeze a little too tight. “Where’s the girls?” I look between my brothers.
“At the farm. Ren, the kids, and I flew to Wyoming first. Then Cross and I flew here,” Crux explains, and I already know they’re both anxious to get back to their women.
Placing a hand on both of their shoulders, I give a squeeze in thanks. “Thanks for coming. Now go tend to your families. I know that’s where you want to be.” They share a look before Cross bursts out laughing.
“Seriously, Crew? When the two of us landed our asses behind bars, where were you?” Grinding my jaw, I don’t need to answer. “Exactly. So shut your shit, accept what’s happening, and for the love of god, go see that girl. She’s barely slept or eaten since we finally forced her to leave the precinct two days ago.”
Concern for Li has me abandoning them in the hallway as I enter my penthouse. Heading straight for the bedroom, I silently open the door to see her in the middle of the bed, curled up in a ball with the blankets wrapped so snuggly around her that all I can see is the top of her head. I strip out of my clothes and go to her. The closer I get, the more that’s revealed, and what I see nearly brings me to my knees.
Tear marks are dried on her cheeks, dark circles ring around her eyes, and she’s paler than usual. Her porcelain skin is something I’m in love with, but seeing her with an ashy hue restricts my chest.
Dragging the covers away from her balled-up fists is easier than she would probably like, but seeing her in my shirt makes my dick stir as I glide into the bed beside her. Slipping my arm under her neck, I drag Delilah closer to me until her face is resting on my chest. Tangling our legs together, I feel like I can breathe for the first time in days.