The Hitchhiker

by Charlie Lee

  “Do you want some water, Mom?”

  She nods, and Katch is already on it without me having to ask. The sound streaming from her throat is similar to crunching glass under a wheel. I can’t imagine the pain she must be in.

  “Here.” Katch hands me a mug with a lid and flexible straw.

  I look up at him. My tears are long dried up. “I don’t care anymore, Katch. We have to keep her safe. Do anything you have to do.”

  He nods solemnly, knowing exactly what I mean. I’ll give up my career to make sure she’s safe. Katch nods then gives us privacy as he joins Curtis and the crew in the kitchen.

  “Here, Mom.” I lower the mug down with my free hand and bend the straw until it’s between her cracked lips.

  She takes several long pulls from the water before pushing away.

  “Is he really dead?” she whispers. If she only knew how I wish he weren’t so I could carve his heart out of his chest.

  “Yes, Dad is dead, Mom. We are safe here. I promise.” My words are heavy with so much meaning behind them.

  I believe in Katch with everything I have.

  “We will never be safe, Lillybug.”

  My heart clenches when I hear her call me by my childhood nickname. I called ladybugs lillybugs for years. My mom always told me it was too precious of a memory to lose, so she started to call me by it.

  “I promise you we are,” I whisper.

  Her eyelids grow heavy. I begin rocking her in my arms, stroking her long salt-and-pepper hair. I’m home. I am so home at this moment with her. No one will ever know how much.

  “Need anything, baby?” I feel a large palm on my shoulder.

  I look up to see Katch with concerned eyes. It melts me. The next words fall from my lips without thought, but there are no truer words ever spoken.

  “I love you, Katch.”

  His eyes go wide, and I know I’ve caught him off-guard. I’m not saying it because he’s my savior. It’s the truth.

  “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know it.” I reach up and cover his hand. “One day, I’ll make you believe that you deserve to be loved.”

  He reaches down and kisses my forehead. It’s the best reply I could ask for.

  “Can you get us some lip balm?” I ask.

  He returns in seconds with a large container of Vaseline. The old me would laugh at applying this on my mom’s dry, cracked lips. The new me, the one who will never replace love with money or power, relishes in it.

  Chapter 14

  KATCH

  I ain’t fucking around no more. Her mother is safe; she’s safe. Now it’s time to kill these motherfuckers.

  I’ve watched her suffer enough. It’s not that I needed her approval to wipe anyone who had their hands in this off the face of the earth. I would have done it, regardless.

  Her giving me the go-ahead makes it all the sweeter.

  “Tell me what you found out about this James Highland.” I light up a smoke, inhaling deeply as I wait for Brick to answer me. I put him on finding out everything he could about this second-in-command whom Caitlin’s father left his side of the business to. That shit has been stirring my gut ever since she told us. I don’t think she found it odd that he left his half of a multi-million-dollar corporation to someone else when he’s drilled the power of money into her skull so deep she believed it. Especially when he left everything else to her.

  “He’s clean.” I’m not going to ask him how he knows for sure. Brick is as solid as his name. If he says he’s clean, then he is.

  “Cops?” I turn to Snake.

  “Not so clean. In fact, I bet my dick this one right here had his hands so deep in this shit that they smell from it.” Curtis takes the photo from his hands, studies it a beat, then passes it my way.

  “Anyone know him?” I stare down at the photo and instantly recognize the name and face.

  “Not personally. By the look on your face, you’re thinking the same thing I am.” Curtis stands, peeks his head around the corner for the tenth time.

  “They doing alright?” Brick asks.

  “Yeah. Makes me want to go on a binge and torture the fuck out of anyone who dared to cross my family. Aunt Louisa may never be the same after this. My dad would have burned down the city, killing them all by now.” He shakes his head and makes his way back to the table.

  “Way I see it is, those two women in there are strong. You put some pansy-ass motherfucker like this dirty cop in a situation like your aunt was in, he would die from the first ant that bit his ass. Now, tell me what you found out about this fucker.” This shit is tearing him up. He needs a reminder of how strong these two women in there are. We all turn our attention back to Snake.

  He doesn't have to say shit ‘cause I already know this is why Caitlin’s case hasn’t seen the light of day. Nor has it been on the news, or jack shit about her being gone for nearly three fucking weeks. I study the photo while I listen to Snake confirm my suspicions, my eyes boring into Detective Vince Lawson’s cold, lying ones. Never will I be above the law. I’ll always live below it, but at least I don’t fucking lie and take a damn oath to say I’ll protect someone. To head up an investigation like he is Caitlin’s and then sit back with my thumbs up my fucking ass while I destroy her house. Stalk her work and places she hangs out at. Hoping to get that glimpse of her. These photos from all these places say it all.

  So he can what? Kill her? Kidnap her and toss her in some dungeon the same way he most likely did her mom? Fuck no. I may have cops and other law enforcement turning their cheek on me. They do it because I take out the trash. Get rid of the assholes who would rack up millions of the taxpayer’s dollars fighting in court. Don’t make it right. Don’t give a fuck; this ain’t about me. It’s about a crooked cop who fucked with the wrong woman. These photos say it all. This motherfucker is running scared.

  “We have to plan this out carefully. You go in and kill him like you want to, Katch, and this will blow up in our faces. We need to trap his ass. Set him up. Then Caitlin needs to come out of hiding, man. She can’t stay holed up in here forever,” Curtis speaks up.

  I swear to Christ everyone thinks I’m an idiot.

  “I know that, Curtis. She isn’t going anywhere until her mom can stand on her own two feet.”

  “Katch!” Caitlin yells from the other room.

  Every single one of us is up and out of our chairs before we can blink.

  She points to the muted television. Her eyes are full of unshed tears.

  “Son of a bitch. One guess on who leaked that.” I look at the innocent woman my Hollywood has cradled in her arms like a baby and shake my head. This is one fucked-up story.

  “There’s a blanket in that closet.” I look at Brick, bend down and plead with my eyes for Caitlin to let me take her mom. We need to talk, and I’m not doing it in front of her mother.

  I lift Louisa, place her on my couch, and cover her up with the blanket. The resemblance, how much these two women look alike, is uncanny as hell.

  “Come here.” I grab her hand to walk her into the kitchen, but she jerks away. My brows lift in a challenge. “Ain’t got time for games, Hollywood.” My hand is instantly twitching to slap her ass.

  “I’m not playing a game. I don’t want to leave her.” She’s so quiet I can barely hear her.

  “I get that, baby. Give me five minutes. Brick has her. You can stand in the doorway. We need to talk about what we just saw on the screen.” Curtis takes that as his cue to dart down the hall, grab my laptop, and set it on the kitchen table.

  “Give me two minutes, and we can find out exactly what they said.”

  “You good, Caitlin?” I bend down to find her eyes. Searching to make sure she’s still with me.

  “I’m good. We won’t know if the road with her is long or short. Not until she fully regains control of her memory.” She leans up against the jamb, positioning herself so she’s able to look at us both.

  “Got it,” Curtis
says. I pull up a chair, while he clicks play. There isn’t any doubt in my mind that someone tipped this fucking clown off.

  “Matthew Michaels here from KLTR News. I’m live outside of UCLA Medical Center, where approximately an hour ago a tip was called in stating that the female found a few days ago in an old dirt cellar is none other than Louisa Winslow, the supposedly deceased wife of Clarence Winslow.

  “Mrs. Winslow had been brought in with damages unknown to our station at this time. We here at KLTR are working on finding out everything we can to bring you more details.

  “There are several unanswered questions at this time. One being, does she know her husband is now deceased, and does she remember her daughter? The notorious Lady Shark Lawyer, Caitlin Winslow?

  “Whatever is going on with this mysterious woman, you’ll be sure to catch it first here at KLTR News.”

  Curtis pauses the video on his computer with the still screen of the motherfucker I’m thirsty to kill, Vince, now talking to the reporter. I don’t care how deeply he’s tied into this. His head is still fucking mine. We remain in silence, processing the newscast. They fucking leaked her identity, exposing the whole family. The stench of evil looms heavily. There’s a fucking king out there trying to get to his pawns. But why?

  “The murder of Caitlin’s dad and the breaking into her apartment are not connected,” Snake speaks again.

  I scrub my face in confusion. “Come again?”

  “It looks connected. Vince made it that way. He was into something deep with the dad. I’m guessing he flipped when his money line ended up dead and went after Caitlin for some reason.”

  “Why Aunt Louisa?” Curtis asks.

  “Another piece to the puzzle,” Snake replies.

  I step away from the counter, leaving Caitlin leaning on the doorjamb looking as white as a ghost, and slam my hand down on the island. “So, you are fucking telling me that this Vince Lawson is a dirty motherfucker who was in bed with Caitlin’s dad. He didn’t kill the dad but is after Caitlin, and we still have no fucking clue where Louisa has been all these years.”

  My voice is hoarse and my throat sore by the time I’m done speaking. If I thought I was fuming before, that was fucking nothing. Too many players in this fucked-up game with the stake of my girl’s life as the trophy. Not fucking happening.

  “We need more time and information. The girls stay here until then.” Curtis slams back a large glass of whiskey. “They’ll be safe here.”

  Out of the corner of my eyes, I catch Caitlin flying into the kitchen, leaving her spot watching her mom and listening in on the information. Both of her palms slap down on the countertop with her eyes on fire with rage. It’s the part of her I’ve never witnessed. I imagine it’s the cutthroat lawyer she is.

  “Not fucking good enough. I fucking refuse to let this bastard win anymore. You get the fucking information and move forward. I don’t believe for a fucking second the crimes aren’t connected. My father dabbled in plenty of dirty deals and pissed off a lot of players. He has more judges in his fucking pocket than all the club whores you have all fucked. He ran the town, and it was dirty as fuck.”

  She pauses for a minute. We all think she’s done, but she’s not. Her face softens a tick, but she carries on.

  “I lost my mother for fucking years. I was brainwashed to believe she was killed in a car wreck while looking for me.” She pounds her chest. “I was at a fucking party, and she was out driving to look for me when she knew all along where I was. And then, all of a sudden, my father shows up and tells me she’s dead? He told me over and over that I killed my mother, and I was young enough to believe him. She was my only line of survival. I died the day she left my life. I will not fucking back down from this. I refuse to lose this time.”

  Angry tears stream down her face. It guts me to watch her fight for a fucking life with all she has, but it’s her fight and her life.

  “Lillybug.”

  “Mom, what are you doing?” I swear to God time freezes for one split second as Louisa takes tiny steps, using all of her effort to prove to herself that her daughter is standing mere feet away from her. She bats away Brick’s help and continues on wobbly legs. Caitlin is just as stunned as the rest of us as she slowly cranes her face to look at her mother. Jesus, I can’t believe my eyes.

  “Come here, baby.” She lifts her fragile arms up halfway, wanting to embrace her daughter in a hug. “It will be okay.”

  “Mom.” Caitlin moves gingerly into her arms, shattering into a million pieces as she steps back into the role of daughter while accepting love from her mother. The women stand still for long moments without the rest of us saying a word.

  I admire Louisa’s beauty through her beat-up state. The woman is just as strong and determined as her daughter. Caitlin can think all day long that she’s a monster like her father, but it’s the furthest thing from the fucking truth.

  All of a sudden, Louisa’s eyes grow wide. A slight tremble overtakes her body as I watch them go wide and fill with fright. She’s staring at the computer screen. Her brows creased and her head tilted to the side.

  “I think it’s time for me to speak up,” she announces to the room, her tiny arms shaking as she holds on for dear life.

  “Here.” Brick offers two barstools for the women to sit down.

  “Please. I have her,” Louisa says when I take a step toward them. Caitlin is freaked the fuck out. In any other circumstance, I would tell someone to fuck off. Not today, maybe not ever when it comes to this woman.

  “That is him.” She points a bony finger toward the screen.

  We all stare straight forward to see Vince Lawson still speaking to the reporter. It’s muted, but I’ll bet anything that fucker is placing all the blame on Caitlin and her father. Caitlin shudders next to her, and I see it coming before she lifts her head and slides off the stool. She’s going dark. She’s losing control as her breathing picks up and her eyes turn panicked. She’ll be gone in a matter of seconds.

  I’m stopped for the second time within a minute when Curtis places his hand on my arm. He knows better, but when I look over to him, his eyes are misty and begging me to give this to his aunt. Good God Almighty, I know how important this time is; don’t mean I have to like it or that it makes me feel some weird fucking shit in the middle of my black chest. It’s love.

  “I’ve got you, baby girl. You’re okay. I will never stop loving you or wanting to take care of you. Look at me.” Fuck. This is gutting me. “Don’t let the darkness eat you. We have to fight.”

  Louisa clutches Caitlin’s hand and cups her chin with the other. I have a strong fucking gut, but nothing has prepared me for this.

  She keeps her hold on Caitlin, but her words are addressed to us.

  “Clarence did love me in his own screwed-up way. But he adored power, greed, and money more. We were happy in the beginning. He always accepted me for who I was. There was just one little thing he could never get over. I didn’t come from a famous last name or from money. My social etiquette was shit. I didn’t care about any of it,” she pauses. “I’m not going to sugarcoat anything here. As Caitlin grew up, he became obsessed with the fact she was going to turn out like me. That she wasn’t going to care about the power of money, control of the benefits he felt came with it. He wanted her to be the power. The money. The name. I couldn’t allow that to happen.” She begins to cough, her hands dropping to clench her stomach.

  “Mom. That’s enough. You need to rest.” And my heart does cease to fucking exist when I hear Caitlin’s sweet voice.

  “I will as soon as I finish,” she answers around her crackly cough.

  “Here.” Curtis fills a cup full of water and slides it across the counter.

  “And you, young man, look so much like my brother.” She pats his hand, lifts the glass, and takes a sip.

  “I gave him an ultimatum the night I supposedly died.”

  “Which was?” Curtis asks.

  “To let me and Caitlin go or I
expose the truth.”

  Louisa may have cracked open the door to getting to the bottom of this a little further, and she may have threatened him, but she’s still not divulging everything she knows. There’s more, and something tells me that more has everything to do with my Hollywood.

  Chapter 15

  CAITLIN

  I’ve often wondered how much bad kismet it would take to make me break. To finally look up and see the blackest of black writing on the wall and to stand there and watch it crumble to dust.

  I was ready to fall to my feet when I heard that my mother’s name had been leaked. That people will now be digging, searching, and wondering where the hell she is. Who took her and why? That crooked fucking cop is going to try and bury me for my father’s sins, because the truth of the matter is, he knows I’m coming for him. He knows I have her and he is running scared.

  My mother walking into the kitchen with her frail body, her eyes full of unshed tears, was one of the proudest moments of my life. For me to be the daughter of Louisa Winslow, a woman who has lived half of my life in sheer and utter hell, made me want to stand tall, that is until she spoke. Her words were meant to help me calm down but did the opposite, because there she was, barely able to stand, yet she drew me into her little body to comfort me. Held me in her arms, sat me down, her words instantly soothing me. A mother’s voice is therapeutic from conception. It comforts, tranquilizes, and I have missed so many things that only she could have taught me, that every word she shed was a stab to my already bleeding heart. She should have never been stripped of her rights to be a mother.

  No matter how many times I thought my father might have killed my mother, I always convinced myself otherwise. Clarence Winslow was an evil bastard. He threw me into this life with all the gusto he had. A sink-swim-or-die life that deep down inside I never really wanted. Sure, I loved the idea of having anything I wanted within reach, but none of it mattered. Not when you’re alone. And definitely not by the teaching hand of the man who controlled my life.