“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” she whispers, holding me in her arms.
“How?”
“She’s going to get the help that she needs and hopefully that jackass will go where he belongs.”
Shaking my head, I lift my gaze to meet hers. “I knew he was creepy. I felt it and I didn’t stop her. This is all my fault.”
Hutton shakes her head, her hands gripping my shoulders firmly before she gives me a small shake. “Stop that. It is not your fault. You cannot control other people’s actions. He’s going to get no less than he deserves and if her brother loves her, he’ll take care of her the way that she needs him to.”
“It just feels so awful.”
“That’s because it is.”
We stay like that, just her and me, holding one another for far longer than we should. I’m thankful, grateful even, for her caring concern.
Later that evening, Louis calls, but I can’t bring myself to tell him what’s happened. He doesn’t need to worry about me. But I can’t deny that everything makes me think of Silas and Joey, over and over.
I think about Joey not having a funeral, about Silas killing his own son. I think about the things that Silas threatened, the way that Mrs. Perry knew about everything and did nothing but accept her husband’s sick perversions for years.
Thinking about it all does nothing for me, except make me sick and unable to sleep the rest of the evening. It also gives me a strength that I wasn’t sure I had even a week ago.
I’m going to make sure that Charlie’s voice is heard, that Mark pays for what he did. I’m going to make sure that my friend no longer suffers.
She deserves to be heard, the women that Silas hurt deserve the same as well. I don’t know who will speak for them, who will demand that they get justice, if I don’t.
Chapter Thirty-Three
TULIP
The sheriff’s office door is almost looming in front of me as I approach. The lady behind the desk doesn’t even look up when I make my way toward her. She’s immersed in her paperwork and I hate to interrupt her, but I need to know that something has been done about Mark.
“Help you?” she asks.
Clearing my throat, I inhale a deep breath. “Is Deputy Hernandez in today?” I ask.
Slowly, her head lifts. “You’re the one who called about his sister. Also, the one who had the run-in with Silas Perry?” she asks.
I’m surprised that she put it all together, that it all has to do with me. Nodding my head slowly, I sink my teeth into my bottom lip. She tilts her head to the side, then nods once before she turns around and walks away from me.
A few moments later, Deputy Hernandez appears. His dark eyes meet mine and he grunts, lifting his chin and turning around.
“He has an office,” the woman announces, appearing in front of me again.
My feet move before I realize what’s happening and I follow behind him. There’s a small office that Hernandez slips inside of and I do the same. He sinks down in a chair behind his small desk and I’m thankful that there is one across from him for myself.
“Charlie is fine. She’s detoxing.”
Nodding, I inhale. “I’m glad. Mark?” I ask.
Something ugly crosses over his features. His lips turn up into a snarl and he jerks his head. “I booked him last night.”
“What?” I breathe.
“He’s being charged with several things, one of them being abuse of the elderly.”
My lips part and I lift my hand up to my mouth as I gasp. “What?”
He snorts. “The newspaper will be posting a full report, I’m sure. But, his mother was found in a similar state to Charlie. The similarities were more than a coincidence and not something that could be ignored or brushed off.
“I want to thank you for checking on her, for urging me to check into him. If it wasn’t for you, I would have written it all off as a relapse and not done any investigation at all,” he admits. “There’s something else too, how much do you know about Mark and his family?”
“Wait, when you say his mother was found in a similar way…”
Hernandez grunts. “Drugged and naked, Tulip.”
“Oh my God,” I breathe.
“That’s about the gist of it. Some really fucking sick shit. So, thank you, Tulip. But, I gotta ask, how much do you know about Mark?”
“Not much, he started at the store a few months ago. He’s always given me a creep vibe. I haven’t really asked him much about himself. I did know that he lived with his mother,” I admit.
Deputy Hernandez clears his throat and lifts his gaze to meet my own. “Mark is Joey’s cousin. His mother and Silas were brother and sister. So, Silas was his uncle,” he murmurs.
My entire body jerks. My heart races, and I shake my head. “No,” I breathe.
He dips his chin in a short nod. “Yeah. Mark sang like a bird to try and save his ass. Apparently, they had a plan. They were going to take you and keep you. Joey was supposed to get you stripping, ruin your reputation in town that way, nobody would ask where you went when you just disappeared. He threw a wrench in that plan when he pulled out, claimed he wanted no part of it, and got himself together.
“They didn’t like that much, then you met Louis and started dating him. That was a big problem. Silas and Mark both got impatient. Silas went after you, and Mark went after a new mark, Charlie.”
“Can I see her?” I ask, my entire body trembling from his words.
His lips twitch into a small smile. “She’s in the hospital, let me get you her room number. She’ll be really happy to see you.”
He hands me a card with his name and information on the front, then in his scratchy handwriting, he has a floor number with a room number.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Turning around, I start to walk out of his office when he calls my name. Looking over my shoulder, I wait for him to speak.
“Thank you, Tulip. I know yesterday was probably difficult to see, to be part of. What I just said was probably really difficult to hear, but I want you to know that I appreciate you.”
“I’m just glad it’s all over,” I whisper.
“It is,” he nods. “They won’t be hurting anyone else any time soon.”
I don’t know what to say in response, so I don’t say anything. Deputy Hernandez holds my gaze for a moment, then drops his head and starts to busy himself with paperwork. I don’t know if he’s really working, but it gives me the opportunity to slip away without having to respond.
The front is no longer being manned as I leave the building, and when I step outside, I feel a little lighter.
The world is such an ugly place and I’ve seen some of the ugliest parts of it, but knowing that I was able to dig my friend out of that, able to help her, that makes my shoulders a bit lighter.
I smile when my phone rings and it’s Louis on the other end. He’s started calling me during his lunch, and I appreciate that. He’s been so busy training, giving interviews and today he has a photoshoot so we haven’t been able to talk much.
“What are you up to?”
I debate telling him right now, but decide against it, again. I’ll tell him everything, in person, after his fight. He has to concentrate on himself, on his training, on what is coming his way. There is nothing that he can do here, everything has already been done.
“Are you ready? How do you feel?” I ask, changing the subject as I make my way toward the hospital.
There’s a moment of silence and he lets out a sigh. “I’m doing everything that I’m supposed to be doing,” he says as his answer.
I press my lips together and let out a long hum. “It’s not the right answer, I know. I’m just, I don’t know what I am or how I feel. I haven’t been dreaming about him, but I feel anxious about the fight.”
“I’ll be right there,” I whisper. “You are going to do wonderfully. I know that you’re going to be great and everything will be okay.”
Naturally, I lie
. I don’t know that everything is going to be okay. I don’t know that he’s going to be wonderful or win, but he doesn’t need to hear even an ounce of doubt from me right now. What he needs to hear is his woman at his back and nothing else.
“Okay, baby. Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’ll feel better when you’re here. Everything’s going okay with you though? Been worried about you,” he admits.
My lips turn up into a small smile. “I’m okay, Louie. I can’t wait to see you.”
After a few moments, we end the call, but before we hang up, he promises to call again later tonight. Closing my eyes, I hate that I’m not being completely open with him, but I can’t, not right now. I will, and I’m not lying, I’m just kind of skirting around things until I can see him in person. Hopefully he doesn’t get mad at me about any of it.
LOUIS
Something is definitely up with Tulip. Lying in bed after hanging up with her for the second time today, I wonder exactly what she’s keeping from me. I have no doubt that it’s something. I can tell in the way she carefully words her conversations and the fact that she hasn’t been home much.
I’ll have my chance to ask her in a couple more days, but something ugly settles in my belly at the idea that she is doing something behind my back. Before leaving, I trusted everything about her, every fucking part of her. I hate that I don’t right now.
Closing my eyes, I force myself to sleep. I have a shoot in the morning. It’s almost time to weigh in and start all of the real preparations for Saturday. Everything about the next couple of days makes me want to vomit.
I know that it’s going to be a fucking nightmare, reliving every single step of the last fight that I was in, the one where I took a man’s life.
The feeling of not being ready slides up my throat, choking me again. The simple fact is that I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready, but it’s only been a few months.
The next morning I’m up, having not slept peacefully at all. Showering, I tug on some clothes before sending Tulip a text message.
MORNING TULLIE. JUST ONE MORE DAY.
TULIP: I can’t wait!!!
SOON, BABY.
TULIP: Have a wonderful day. Call me when you can.
WILL DO.
Shoving my phone in my pocket, I make my way toward the gym. The photographer is supposed to meet us there. I never know who is going to be the official photog for the event, they usually go with the cheapest bid.
Walking into the gym, I’m not surprised to see that Aaron is already here, along with Shawn who is at the bag warming up.
Jerking my chin toward Aaron, I walk over to the makeup station that’s set up in a corner. I fucking hate this shit.
Makeup.
It’s so goddamn dumb, especially since they just photoshop the fuck out of these images anyway.
“There is the event photographer that will be here, then Sports Illustrated is sending someone over as well. Men’s Health may be stopping by as well. It’s going to be a busy day, you good?” Gary asks, never looking up from his iPad.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I grunt.
It’s what he wants to hear, he doesn’t give a fuck if I am or not. He just wants me to tell him that I’m fucking perfect.
“Good. We’ll break for lunch, but they’re all going to want still and action shots, so it’s going to be a day.”
“Thank fuck I’ve been training for months for this then,” I snap.
Gary lifts his head, his eyes rounding at my tone. My publicist is only worried about things that affect the bottom line, that affect his percentage. He forgets that I’m a fucking person. He nods once, then turns around and thankfully leaves me alone.
Closing my eyes, I let the makeup woman do her thing, hating every second of it. When she’s finished, a stylist takes me over to a small clothing rack and shoves a pair of brand new gold boxing shorts at me.
Jerking my chin at Aaron, he follows me into the locker room. I quickly put the shorts on as he grabs a pair of bright red gloves, something that the stylist demanded. He wraps my hands for the images without the gloves and helps me put them on, all in silence.
“Your girl gets here tomorrow?” he asks.
Dipping my chin, I let out a breath. “Shawn’s picking her up and taking her to my place.”
“You got your shit locked down?” he asks.
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Not even close,” I admit.
His weathered eyes watch me for a moment. “You will,” he states with a jerk of his chin. I watch for a moment as he walks out of the locker room and I clear my throat before I follow in his path.
“Okay, let’s get some shots in the ring,” I hear a female voice call out.
I recognize that voice. It’s been years, but it’s not a voice I could ever forget. Slowly, I lift my gaze to see none other than the only girl I ever felt a fucking thing for before Tulip came around.
Meghan is standing right in front of me, a camera strap wrapped around her neck, holding a camera in her hand.
She turns her head to look at me. I watch as her lips curl up into a smile. Unlike me, she’s not surprised to see me. That’s because she knew I was the subject of today’s shoot. She probably put her bid in for this job.
“So, this what you do now?” I ask as I climb into the training ring.
Something causes her smile to drop before she plasters a fake one in its place. “Single mom, have to make ends meet these days.” She shrugs.
I almost smile at her words. I should fucking gloat in her face, but I can tell that she’s not happy about the single mom bit. If this was a year ago, I probably would gloat, but I’m not in that place anymore. I don’t hate her, in fact, I don’t feel anything for her.
“Ready?” I ask.
Her body jerks slightly at my brisk tone, but honestly, I just want this shit done. This is my least favorite part of the job. We don’t speak again for the entire shoot. When she’s finished, I turn to walk away, but she calls me back.
“Yeah?” I ask, turning around to look at her.
She presses her lips together, closing the distance between us. “I just. I know you’re single and I wanted to know if you would like to go and grab a drink. I just, I feel like we have unfinished business.”
Before I can open my mouth to deny her words, she lifts her hand and places her palm on my bare chest, sliding it up to curl her fingers around my neck.
“I never forgot about you, Louis. Not ever. I was a stupid kid. Please,” she breathes.
This is everything I wanted from her, except this is almost two decades too fucking late. I thought that I loved her back then, I would have done anything for her. Ultimately, it was losing her that made me work harder to become the man that I am.
I don’t tell her any of that, she doesn’t deserve to know. She doesn’t deserve to think that she truly had a hand in becoming who I am today. Keeping my face completely impassive, I glance down at her.
“I’m not single, Meghan. Got a good woman at my back, one who doesn’t give a fuck that I’m not white. She stands proudly at my side knowing I’m a killer, knowing I’m half-black. She just fucking gets me and when I say that, I mean that she gets to have all of me. Something you never had.”
Her lips wobble and she takes a step back, her hand falling from my neck. “I was just a kid, you don’t understand,” she whispers.
Snorting, I shake my head. “I understand that you turned your back the second someone made a comment about the color of my skin. You didn’t have my back at all. See, I was the shit hot athlete in high school, but at your college, they didn’t know who I was.
“So you couldn’t walk peacock proud that you were with the shit hot athlete anymore, and when those people said what they did, however they did, you dropped me so fucking fast and you never looked back. Says a lot about the woman you were then.”
“But I’m not her, not anymore,” she cries.
“How long you been divorced?” I ask.
“It’s final ne
xt month.”
Shaking my head, I let out a chuckle. “I think you’re exactly the same woman. My guess is the guy you married has money. So, now you’re looking for your next victim and how convenient that you weaseled your way into being the event photographer.”
“Don’t be mean,” she whispers.
“Don’t forget to take pictures of me and my woman when I win,” I snap.
Turning around, I walk away from her the same way that she did me, I never fucking look back.
Chapter Thirty-Four
TULIP
Shawn holds up his sign, waving it around as I head toward baggage claim. I can see him from a mile away and I can’t help but let out a giggle as I read what he’s written in big black letters.
WELCOME HOME FROM PORN REHAB, TULIP.
My giggles turn into a burst of laughter, causing the person next to me on the escalator to jump. The woman, who looks to be in her fifties, slowly looks back at me from over her shoulder, then twists to look forward again before she looks back at me with wide, almost fearful eyes.
Pressing my lips together, my eyes dance as the escalator ride comes to an end. I can feel the woman’s gaze on me as I make my way toward a laughing Shawn. Shaking my head, I lift my hand and slap him hard on the chest. He doesn’t even flinch, nor does his laughter halt.
“The look on these people’s faces,” he wheezes.
“The lady in front of me was horrified,” I say.
He shrugs, lifting his arm and sliding it around my shoulders before he guides us toward the baggage claim carousel. “She looked like she needed to loosen up a bit,” he murmurs.
“How is he?” I ask.
I didn’t talk to him last night. He promised to call, but instead sent me a text and told me that he was busy and wouldn’t be able to call at all. I won’t lie that something inside of me is panicked that he didn’t call me.
KILLER: An Unfit Hero Novel Page 25