Fine Line (Crossing Lines Book 1)

by A. D. Justice

  When he moves back up to my ear and whispers to me, the cold instantly seeps into my every pore, and pure terror replaces all other sensations.

  “We’re being followed, darlin’. I’m not sure who it is yet, but I don’t think it’s Butch. Stay close to me. If I tell you to run, get inside a restaurant or a bar and call the police. Do you understand?”

  I nod robotically. “Yes.”

  “That’s my girl. Let’s just walk casually. They’ve been watching us for a while and haven’t tried to approach us. That tells me they’re tailing us to find out where I live, probably tied to the case somehow. But I’m not taking any chances with your safety to find out who they are.”

  We start walking again for a few steps before a taxi passes us. Nick flags it down, and we dash into the back seat, heading in the opposite direction of the men following us. When we drive by, Nick gets a good look at their faces, shock and annoyance clear in their expressions.

  “Where to?” the cabbie asks.

  Nick gives my address, and we ride the rest of the way in silence. Nick, in quiet retrospection. Me, in complete terror. Who would be following us if not Butch?

  Late night activities led to sleeping in Sunday morning. After brunch, we spend the rest of the day lounging in my condo, purposely doing nothing more than spending time together. We venture out of bed once or twice, making refueling runs to the refrigerator or the door for delivery. Nick takes his time worshiping my body and making me feel cherished. My ribs only hurt now when touched, but he’s still extra careful to avoid doing anything that would cause me pain. But he makes sure he does anything and everything needed for my pleasure. My body is spent, and a smile is permanently affixed to my face now. Not that I’m complaining. Late Sunday night, Nick leaves for his apartment, knowing he has to be at work early in the morning.

  My condo is too quiet without him here, but I’ll survive. I always do somehow. Sleep finally overtakes me, and I wake to the chiming of my alarm clock. I’m volunteering early at the crisis center this week. Most of my time is spent on the phones, helping convince battered women to flee to safety. But since I’ve been on the mend, I’ve spent more time restocking the residents’ rooms with soap, shampoo, and towels. While it may sound as if I’m little more than a maid, the benefits I reap from it are so much more valuable to me.

  Miranda is quickly becoming a friend I desperately want to help. In the short time since I met her, she has opened up to me more than anyone else at the center. She hasn’t shared much about her life before, but I do know she was treated more like property than a person. Her ex was a cruel man who enjoyed demeaning her in front of others. Because of the humiliation he subjected her to, she finds it difficult to look others in the eye.

  But she’s opening up to me, and it’s a beautiful thing.

  When I walk into the center, Linda is reprimanding one of the staff members for allowing her boyfriend to drop her off at work. The younger girl, Patty, counters, saying she wouldn’t be able to show up for work at all without a ride, but Linda isn’t having it. I understand both of their points all too well. Working in the emergency room, I have no choice but to show up for work, even during inclement weather, whether I have reliable transportation or not.

  “If you need a ride tomorrow, call me. I don’t mind swinging by to get you or coming in earlier.” I smile at Patty as I walk around them.

  “Thank you, Savannah. If you’re sure you don’t mind, I may have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind at all.”

  I start making my rounds—as a nurse, I can’t think of it any other way, it seems—and refill the used goods in each resident’s room. When I reach Miranda’s room, she’s chewing on her thumbnail and pacing the floor. Her eyes are cast down, staring at the floor as she walks back and forth, and she hasn’t noticed my presence in her room yet.

  “Miranda, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “One of my friends was killed. I just found out.” She stops in her tracks and looks up at me, her eyes haunted. “I will kill myself before I let him take me back to hell.”

  Chapter 17

  Savannah

  “Miranda, don’t say that. I’m so sorry about your friend, and I wish I could help take away that pain. But you’re safe here. He doesn’t know where you are. Even if he somehow finds you, I won’t let him take you anywhere.”

  She drops her hand from her mouth and rushes to me, throwing her arms around my neck and squeezing. Her voice quivers almost as much as her body shakes. “Thank you for saying that, Savannah. You’re the only friend I have left in the world now.”

  “Even if that’s true, you still have me.” I write down my cell phone number and my address for her, telling her to call anytime she needs me. “And if you ever need to run from here, run to me. You know, Nick did the same for me. He gave me his address after he witnessed Butch harassing me, and I had to use it. I showed up at his place out of the blue, beat-up and bringing trouble with me. Not once has he ever made me feel like a burden to him. And you’re not one to me either.”

  She wipes tears from her eyes as she turns away from me. “I think he murdered my friend to try to find out where I am. I couldn’t put you in that kind of danger.”

  “If that’s true, then you need to call me before anyone else if you feel you’re in danger. Nick just upgraded my apartment with state-of-the-art security. He wouldn’t be able to get in to hurt either of us, trust me. If I found out he hurt you when I could’ve helped, that would kill me, Miranda.”

  She nods, even though she’s not fully ready to commit yet. “Okay, you win. Thank you again, Savannah.”

  Right now, she doesn’t want to appear ungrateful, so she agrees. But if push comes to shove, at least she knows where she can escape to safety. If she’ll only swallow her pride and let me help.

  “Do you want to talk about your friend? Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Believe me, you’re already helping. I appreciate you more than you know. I really need time to process everything, though. I found out about it just before you got here, so my head really isn’t on straight right now.”

  “I completely understand. If you need to talk later, you know how to reach me.” I hug her before continuing on to the next room, but she stays on my mind the rest of the day. Unable to attend a friend’s funeral out of fear her ex will find her, on top of suspecting that same man murdered a close friend in a desperate attempt to find her.

  That has to be pure torture. I couldn’t imagine being kept away from Karen and Spencer. Miranda has to feel utterly and totally alone in the world right now. I know all too well people have multiple facets to their personalities, but she has been nothing but sweet to me since the day I met her. My heart breaks for her.

  As I make my way toward the front of the large building, pushing my now-empty supply cart, sounds of terrified screaming and angry shouting slow my steps. Something terrible is happening, and all the women and children are panicking.

  “I said shut the fuck up!” Gunshots ring out, echoing throughout the building and bouncing off the walls.

  My feet come to a complete stop, and my lungs freeze in my chest. I feel every shot in my soul, because I know that voice. And I know he won’t hesitate to kill every person in this building, woman or child, as long as he gets what he wants.

  And what he wants is me.

  “Savannah, what’s going on?” Miranda steals up beside me, making me nearly jump out of my skin.

  “My ex is here. He followed me somehow.” I think for a second, trying to figure out what to do. I hand Miranda my unlocked cell phone. “Call Nick Tucker. Tell him Butch is here and what’s going on. I’m going outside to draw Butch away from everyone. As soon as he steps out the door, pull the emergency alarm and lock down the facility.”

  “Savannah, you can’t do that! He’ll kill you!” The fear on Miranda’s face mirrors my own, but I can’t put an entire building full of women and children at risk when they’ve already giv
en up everything they had for a modicum of safety.

  “I’m so scared I can’t think straight, Miranda. But I do know one thing. I can’t live with the death of innocent people on my conscience. The other people here shouldn’t have to suffer because of me. Please call Nick, right now. Tell him I said to hurry…and that I love him.”

  With brisk steps, I move to the emergency exit and push the bar, setting off the alarm. At this point, I’m betting we need all the help we can get, as fast as we can get it. The alarm will alert the monitoring company, who will call to verify there’s an actual emergency. When no one from the center answers, they’ll dispatch our local fire department and police units as a precaution. While the response time won’t be terrible, it’s also not immediate, but it’s all I have at the moment.

  Moving around the side of the building, I make my way to the very front parking lot. The building is close enough to the road to draw more attention from passersby. Anything that could possibly help. When I reach the end of the line, I stand frozen in my spot, shaking from head to toe. My hands are cold, my mouth is dry, and I’m second-guessing my decision with every second that ticks by.

  Then I realize the building is eerily quiet.

  The alarm is off.

  There’s no screaming coming from inside.

  Dear God. What has he done?

  “Butch! I’m out here! Come out here and face me like a man!” I scream at him as loud as I can. The force exerted against my ribs sends shock waves of pain through my body, threatening to bring me to my knees, but I push the swells of nausea aside. I can’t focus on that right now.

  He steps to the front door, smiling at me with an evil grin that sends cold chills up and down my spine. “Well, I’m here, you fucking bitch. What are you going to do now?”

  Before I can answer, he jerks a child from behind him and presses the barrel of the gun to the young boy’s head.

  “Nice fucking try by pulling the alarm, you whore. You must be even stupider than I thought you were. One call from the alarm company and I killed that shit on the spot. If any of those stupid whores inside suddenly tries to get smart, little Jamal here will pay the price. So, let me tell you the same thing—get your stupid fat ass inside right now, or I’ll shoot him in the fucking head right in front of you.”

  I didn’t account for this scenario at all. In my mind, he left everyone else alone and just came after me. After all, that’s what he wants, right?

  “Now!” His screamed command jolts me from my inner turmoil, making my feet move toward him independently of all conscious thought.

  When I get close enough to him, he pushes Jamal back inside then grabs my arm, jerking me as hard as he can. I scream out in pain, but that only serves to satisfy him even more. He shoves me through the doorway and locks it behind us. Everyone who was unfortunate enough to be in the center is hunkered down in the entertainment room, lined against the wall three deep. Tears stream down every person’s face—women and children alike. All the terror they’ve endured in their lives is conjured in one person.

  Butch.

  And I brought him here.

  “You have me. Let them go.”

  “Don’t you dare try to tell me what to fucking do, bitch. No one is leaving. I’ll shoot them all, one by one, right in front of you if you pull that shit again.” He walks over to a mother of three and points the gun at her head. “Should I show you right now?”

  “No! No. I believe you. I believe you!” I put my hands up in the universal gesture for stop, as if the subliminal message will do any good with him.

  “I don’t think you do.” He swings his arm around, leveling it at Linda, and pulls the trigger. She crumples to the floor, her eyes wide open and fixed in a death stare. The room spins around me as terror-filled screams reverberate off the walls, each one hitting me like a thousand sharp knives.

  Butch walks to me, unaffected by his heinous deed, and roughly grabs my face. “Call that undercover pig you’ve been fucking and tell him to bring me my shit right now. My real shit. If he shows up here with that fucking talcum powder bullshit, everyone in here will eat a fucking bullet for dinner.” He releases me with a snap of his wrist, making my head jerk violently.

  “I-I don’t have m-my cell phone on me to call him. I n-need a phone.” My reply is stammered; I can barely get the words out. I don’t want to draw attention to Miranda by telling him I already asked her to call Nick for me. That may be just the excuse he needs to kill her too.

  He looks at me with contempt and skepticism. “Who doesn’t have their fucking cell phone in their pocket these days?”

  I run my hands over my pockets, showing him they’re empty. “I’m serious. I don’t have it with me.”

  “Here, Savannah. You can use mine.” Miranda stands and extends her hand to me, returning my cell without giving away our prior plan.

  My hands shake uncontrollably, but somehow, I manage to dial the phone.

  “Put it on speaker, you two-bit whore. I want to hear every word.”

  “She doesn’t need the speaker. You can hear me just fine from right here.” Nick steps into the room with his gun drawn and his sights set squarely on Butch’s chest. His eyes drop to Linda’s lifeless body lying on the floor, and I know his hatred for Butch has surpassed his previous contempt.

  I end the call and slip my cell back into Miranda’s hand before giving her a slight push toward her place in the crowd of people crouched on the floor. Out of sight, out of mind is my hope. There’s little chance I’ll come out of this unscathed. Knowing Butch’s savagery, I shudder to think what he’ll do just to inflict pain on me. My biggest fear at the moment is he’ll use Nick for that very purpose.

  But seeing Nick in action, completely at ease in his element, makes me think we may all have a chance to walk away.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the undercover pig himself. You got balls showing up here like this. Alone. Thinking you can just waltz in here and take over because you wear a fucking badge. We all know you’re just as bad as any so-called criminal you arrest. You were one of us—that means you did every dirty little deed we did. And now you’re a fucking rat pig, so that makes you even worse.”

  “I know exactly who and what I am, Bitch. I’m a DEA Special Agent. I was undercover to stop a bunch of badass wannabes who didn’t have the guts or brains to make it on his own. You’re a pathetic loser and you know it. When you leave here today, it’ll be in either handcuffs or a body bag. When I leave, it’ll be in my nice vehicle, going back to my nice home, and lying in bed next to my fine girlfriend. Now drop your fucking gun before I put a hole in your chest big enough to drive my truck through.”

  Butch smirks and my blood runs cold.

  “You put your gun down…or I’ll blow her fucking head off right here, right now. Do you want to see her brains? I bet they’re as pretty as she is.” Another Devil steps out from behind the open door, giving up his hiding place behind me. The cold metal of his gun digs into my temple while his rough hand squeezes my neck. “Maybe I’ll fuck her first and let you watch. Hard decision.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. Hope is fleeting, and I can feel every ounce of it draining from my body. I trust Nick, but two against one, using me as leverage, is a no-win scenario. A sudden, loud crash behind me makes me jump. A split second later, I’m on the floor in the middle of flailing arms and legs. When I finally work free of the tangled limbs, I’m beyond relieved to see Silas has the other Devil in a full-body lock, sporting a wide grin on his face.

  “Are you okay, Savannah?” Silas asks. All I can do is nod. I think I’m okay. “Good. Be with you in just a second. Let me help this troubled young man go to sleep.”

  Glancing over at Nick, I see he’s engaged in a brawl with Butch, taking out his frustrations on him one punch at a time. Butch staggers backward and Nick follows, delivering one punishing blow after the other. As I watch Nick in action, the thought crosses my mind that he could easily knock Butch out with a single punch, bu
t he’s enjoying beating the shit out of him too much to do that. When Butch falls flat on his ass, Nick stands over him and reads him his rights.

  Nick reaches to grab his handcuffs, but they’re on the ground a few feet away after falling out during their brawl. One of the ladies huddled nearby crawls toward them and pushes them across the tile floor. When Nick reaches to grab them, Butch capitalizes on Nick’s off-balance position to push free and run. Nick jumps to his feet, fast on Butch’s tail. In the blink of an eye, I take off running after Nick.

  “Savannah, no!” I hear Miranda scream as I run, but the words don’t register. I know Butch. He’ll kill Nick first, then he’ll come back and kill the rest of us.

  When I burst through the front door of the building, Nick and Butch are squared off against each other again. Nick has his gun drawn, cars are stopped on the side of the road, and the onlookers all have their phones trained on the men. Instead of calling for help, they’re videoing the showdown happening in the parking lot.

  “You’re just in time, little whore.” Butch’s gaze swings from me to Nick just before he draws a gun from the side of his motorcycle. “Say goodbye to your double-crossing pig. I hope he fucked your brains out last night…because it’ll be his last time.”

  Chapter 18

  Nick

  An ugly sneer crosses his face then he pulls the trigger.

  The painful scream that follows turns my blood to ice and stills my heart. He never intended to shoot me—Savannah was always his target.

  And that bullet found its mark.

  The thumping rumble of a motorcycle leaving the scene registers in the back of my mind as I rush to her side, holstering my gun and withdrawing my cell to call an ambulance. Blood is already pooling on the ground underneath her. Dark blood, almost black, covers her abdomen. In a matter of seconds, she goes from loud, shrill screams of pain to low, quiet whimpers.