Killing June

by May Bridges

  I’m taking the silence as a yes and have lined up your date for tonight. Dinner at 9 at Pan. Club after.

  Apparently the mention of a date got Cade’s attention, since he responded, much like my mother, less than a minute later:

  Do I know my date?

  No and hello to you too, Miss can’t-ever-get-back-to-anyone. I so think you’re going to love this one. Super-hot. Your type.

  My type?

  Oh hell, Rachel. Please don’t go there. Please.

  Blond, blue, looks killer in a suit. Works for a law firm.

  Well at least she kept that brief.

  Can you cancel with him?

  Yes, first good question Cade had asked. Cancel please.

  Only if you’re bringing a date. You’re not getting out of this, Alex.

  I’ll text you by 6 to let you know if I’m bringing a date.

  Are you sleeping with someone?

  Why does she have to be nosey?

  Yep. Best fuck I’ve had. Not blond or blue, but you can’t win them all.

  Shit. You can’t win them all? He thought he wasn’t my type. I didn’t even have a type! Rachel assumed I was into blonds because the last relationship I had was Robert, and he was blond and blue-eyed. Honestly, I liked that Cade didn’t remind me of Robert.

  It was 1:30 p.m. I had four and a half hours to get back to Rachel about who I’d be going on the date with, Cade or her pick. I didn’t need four hours to figure out the right answer. The idea of taking Cade on this date with Rachel was putting my stomach in knots. However, the idea of leaving Cade at home all night, to stew about being left behind for another man, one that Rachel had told him was “my type,” was even more frightening.

  Hey Rach. I’ll bring my own date. Meet you at Pan at 9.

  * * *

  I think these are dead girls. Oh God, please tell me I’m not looking at pictures of dead hookers. Maybe this was what I got for digging through other people’s things.

  After making some lunch and getting dressed, I’d wandered down the hall and found myself in front of Cade’s bedroom door. Curiosity burned, and I indulged it, slipping inside.

  Most of it seemed normal. I ran my fingers over the soft fabric of the dark green duvet spread across his king size bed. Sitting on its edge, I looked through his nightstand drawer. There was some jewelry under a Playboy, receipts for electronics, a copy of Game Informer, a gun. Nothing unusual.

  My heel connected with something hard under the bed. I knelt and found a battered shoe box. Sitting on the ash wood floor, I pulled out the contents of the box, a manila envelope with pictures. It took a minute to realize what I was seeing. The first picture could’ve been any girl sleeping on the ground, until you looked closer. Her lips were an eerie shade of pale blue, her skin tone was off, and there was bruising around her throat.

  I flipped frantically through the pictures and saw that she wasn’t the only one who was dead. My ears started to ring, my vision wavered, and nausea set in fast when I came across a set of pictures of one girl in particular. I didn’t need to look hard to see that she wasn’t living. She was covered in blood. It was soaked through her clothes and coming out of her mouth.

  They weren’t all dead. Some were very much alive, but most looked like strung-out streetwalkers.

  My shaking hands dropped the stack of pictures and they scattered; a sea of dead and broken women was laid out before me. Was this the evidence of Cade’s conquests? I knew he was bad, knew he hurt people, but this was so much worse than I imagined. The idea that he hurt those women, and then kept their pictures as trophies . . . I couldn’t process it.

  I should have been running from that house, getting as far away as I could before I became the next dead, broken woman in the pile, but I didn’t. I sat on his floor and cried. I cried for them, for me, for the spark of hope I realized I’d had for Cade.

  At some point I’d cried so much that the tears were gone and I was left with dry, broken sobs. I felt numb and cold. Time was nonexistent. It was a moment when you can’t think, only feel what your heart wants to feel, and mine felt destroyed. Hours, I think hours, had passed and I still sat there hoping I’d look down at the mess on the floor and see something other than those girls.

  “What are you doing in here?” Where I’d felt numb moments before, Cade’s voice sent a blaze of anger rushing through my veins. When I looked up at his face I found that the illusion I had of him was melting away.

  “You did this. You son of a bitch, you did this.” Without thought I picked up the sliver lamp off his nightstand and hurled it toward him. He dodged it and it crashed against the wall behind him.

  “Fuck! Alex, stop!” he yelled.

  I scrambled to find more ammunition to throw. I had a large, heavy green glass ball off his dresser in hand when Sean burst into the bedroom. His gun was drawn and he swung it toward me.

  “You alright, boss?” Sean asked.

  I took the opportunity to throw the decorative glass at Cade. To my dismay, he caught it.

  “You killed them!” I moved to find more ammo but I seemed to be running low on my side of the bed. I flung the shoebox his way, but it wasn’t effective.

  “I’m good, Sean. You can head out. I’ll catch up with you later. I think me and angry girl need to talk.”

  “Yeah, your guys’ idea of a lovers quarrel looks a little out of control,” Sean said, shaking his head.

  Cade laughed. It infuriated me more. How could he laugh at anything? I had pictures of dead women and he was joking around with Sean.

  Sean left and Cade prowled forward. I scrambled backward, but ended up in a corner with nowhere to go.

  “I hate you, Cade. I hate you for making me believe you might be something good. You’re sick.” I ripped off my shoe and hurled it at him. It caught him in the chest. “Did you bring those women to your house too? Did you make them think you cared, that you were trying to save them?”

  “I was trying to save them,” he said.

  “And what, when you got sick of trying you killed them, like you killed Christian?”

  “I didn’t kill Christian.”

  Cade had me backed all the way into the corner. He reached down for me and I kicked out. I hit home several times, but it didn’t stop him. Cade came down on top me. He pinned my legs under him and pulled my wrists together.

  “Let me go. You bastard. Let me go,” I screamed. My heart hammered in my chest.

  “I didn’t kill them. I was trying to help them. They either wouldn’t let me or I was too late, but I didn’t kill them.” Cade put one arm around my back and pulled me into his chest. My reservoir of tears had refilled and was spilling over again. I was angry and hurt, confused.

  “It’s okay, Doll. Shhh, it’s okay. Come sit with me on the bed. I’ll tell you what happened.”

  When I didn’t answer, Cade picked me up and carried me to his bed. He sat down behind me and laid me against his chest. I focused on the rise and fall of his body with each breath, and the sound of his heart. When my sobs had quieted, Cade told me about the girls in the pictures.

  “My aunt asked me to find my cousin, Rose, after a few months of not hearing from her. We knew she was into drugs, meth mostly. I figured she was on the streets somewhere. I found her, but couldn’t get her to go home. She started turning tricks for one of the local guys in town, nobody big time, but he was supplying her habit. I asked her to come stay with me a few times so I could help her get clean, but she wasn’t interested. I didn’t push it.

  “My aunt asked me again a few months later so I went looking for her again. She had died a week earlier and was lying in a morgue as unidentified.” Cade stopped and I could feel his breathing take on a slow, intentional rhythm. “My family was so mad at me. They thought I didn’t try hard enough, you know? And they were right. I didn’t really try at all. I had my own life. I figured if Rose wanted help she would come find me.

  “Seeing my aunt fall apart at her funeral was terrible. I kept thi
nking I could’ve prevented it. Every time I met a girl like Rose I thought maybe if I could save her I might feel better about not trying with Rose. When you work doing what I do, you meet a lot of girls like Rose. Girls that are selling themselves for something they think they need.”

  I could feel Cade take another deep breath, his chest rising with it. He sunk further into the leather headboard and wrapped his arms tighter around me.

  “I tried again and again. A few times I thought they might have ended up better for my efforts, but none of them ever really let go of whatever it was that started them on that road in the first place. I’d go check up on them sometimes. Some were back to turning tricks, using, and some were dead, like Rose.”

  “I have a friend that works in evidence and I would ask him for copies of their pictures. I kept them to remind me why I wanted to keep trying. Eventually I realized I couldn’t help someone who didn’t want to let go. I could take them away from it for a while, but I couldn’t make them stay away. I quit trying after I found the last girl in the obituaries.”

  It wasn’t even something I had considered. I saw the pictures and knew that Cade had killed those girls. It broke me to know how he felt about it, as though because he couldn’t save them, they’d died, and that was on him somehow. I could only imagine the weight of that, thinking you were responsible for the deaths or tortured lives of women because you didn’t try hard enough.

  “Cade, you have to know that those pictures, how those girls ended up, isn’t your fault.”

  “Maybe, but it got too hard to feel like I failed, so I put the pictures away one day and moved on with life. This is the first time I’ve seen them in two years.”

  “I’m so sorry I thought you did that.” I felt truly awful about accusing him.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Cade rubbed his hand up and down my arm.

  “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re trying again, with me.”

  Cade didn’t answer. He kept his hand moving up and down my arm.

  “Why try again?” I asked.

  “I thought you were like them at first, selling yourself for something you weren’t willing to walk away from. After that first night in your loft I changed my mind.” Cade ran his fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my face. “You weren’t selling yourself to hold onto something, you were doing it to let go. When I look back, I think Rose wanted to let go too, she just didn’t know how, and I didn’t help her.”

  I didn’t know if he was right. Some days I felt like my obsession with finding Becker was holding onto me, but sometimes I felt like I was refusing to let go of it.

  “Did you ever love any of those girls?” I’m not sure why that was the question pressing on my mind. I didn’t love him and I didn’t expect him to love me, but maybe part of the healing that had been happening was the hope that one day a man would love me. Someone who knew all the fucked up parts of me, the rotten ugly parts, and would love me anyway. Robert knew those parts and I thought he loved me. I knew in some way that it was how he kept me coming back to him, holding on.

  “I felt sorry for them,” Cade said.

  “Did you spend the kind of time with them that you’ve spent with me?”

  “I had sex with two of them, but it wasn’t ongoing, and I regretted it later. The fallout was rough. Most of those girls were addicted to drugs. When you’re dealing with those types of addictions, adding in my fucked up brand of sex doesn’t help.”

  I wondered if he would regret our time together too. I wasn’t sure, but I knew that I didn’t want to end up as another picture in his box, a failed attempt at rescue.

  My guilt over making arrangements to meet with Robert’s client hit me in a fresh wave. But as thick as it was, I don’t think I was prepared back out. It was the fastest ticket to a meeting with Becker, and that’s what I needed to heal, to let go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  There was never really a choice about who I’d be taking on my double date with Rach, but I knew I’d made the right choice when Cade walked into the living room in an Armani suit. My jaw may actually have fallen open. His dark hair was swept back in mussed perfection. The crisp white shirt and deep gray suit had to have been tailored for him. As he walked toward me, his natural dark edge wrapped in a suit coupled with a wide smile melted me.

  “I know I’m not blond and blue,” Cade said, “but I still think I make this suit thing look pretty good.” His smug grin said that he more than thought he made it look good, he knew it.

  “I don’t think I was ever that into blonds anyway,” I admitted when he took my arm and led me out to his car. “What are the chances you’ll let me drive?” I asked.

  “None,” Cade said, opening the passenger door for me. I knew that was going to be his answer, just thought I’d try.

  I eyed a bag of Skittles in the cup holder. “Are you holding out on me by hiding the Skittles in the car?”

  It took Cade a second to catch up. He looked at me, then the bag and back to me.

  “Oh actually, I was saving those for you. I meant to take them in and forgot.”

  “Yeah, sure you did.”

  “I took all the yellow ones out for you.”

  I picked up the bag and shook a few into my hand. He wasn’t lying. Cade really did pick all the yellow ones out for me. It was stupid, but knowing he thought of me when I wasn’t around put a smile on my face.

  “How sweet. I’ll eat them after dinner.”

  “So what is Rachel like?” Cade asked as we neared downtown.

  “Brash and crazy. Too loud. Too excited. Too nosey, and my best friend.”

  “Sounds like the kind of person you need. Someone needs to be bold enough to keep you in check every now and then.” Cade winked at me, but I didn’t think he was kidding.

  We pulled up to the Pan valet at nine. Pan was a little upscale for Rachel’s taste, normally, but I was excited to try it. Cade made a face when the valet attendant slid into his car. The poor kid looked like he was going to shit his pants when he got a look at the glare Cade was giving. It made me giggle. I slid my arm through Cade’s and coaxed him away from his stupid car.

  “I don’t like valet,” he grumbled on the way in.

  “Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said, with a smirk I hoped he couldn’t see.

  Our table was ready when we got inside, and Rachel and her date—Adam—were already seated. I’d met Adam before. He’d met us at the club a few times, but not any more than anyone else from Rachel’s devoted male following.

  Rachel’s eyes widened when she saw me and Cade. I didn’t need to ask to know it was Cade that was making her bug out.

  “Alex,” Rachel said, hugging me, and then whispered in my ear, “That is who you’re sleeping with? Lucky bitch.”

  “Yep, Cade, this is Rachel and Adam. Guys, this is Cade.”

  Everyone shook and we took our seats. The menu looked divine, so much better than our usual choice of Denny’s. I couldn’t help but wonder what the change in venue was all about.

  “So, is Adam spoiling you by brining you to Pan, or what?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Rachel said, her eyes lighting up and a smile spreading wide as she looked over at Adam. “But we also wanted to share some news with you.”

  Adam took her hand. “We’re getting married.”

  Rachel jutted her hand out toward me, pushing her ring finger in my face. There sat a beautiful solitary diamond on a simple gold band. I tried to manage an appreciative smile.

  “Wow, when did this happen? I mean, I didn’t even know you two were spending that much time together.” The look on Rachel’s face fell and I realized that wasn’t the response she was hoping for. “Rach, don’t look at me like that. I’m excited for you. Just surprised, that’s all,” I added.

  Rachel sat a little straighter and tipped her chin up. “We’ve spent all the time we need to know this is what we want. It happened on Sunday. Adam planned a dinner with our families and proposed. I said yes, ob
viously.”

  “Congratulations,” Cade responded, much more appropriately than I did. “You both look very happy.”

  “So when is the wedding?” I asked.

  “We were thinking February, around Valentine’s Day,” Adam replied.

  “Four months. That’s not a lot of time to plan a wedding,” I said.

  “It’s plenty of time. Besides, I have my mom to help, and you, right?”

  “Yeah, of course you have me.” I offered her a smile, the best I had in the moment.

  “It’ll be good practice for your wedding,” Rachel said.

  “Ha ha, very funny and never happening,” I assured everyone at the table.

  “Laugh it off if you want, but it’ll happen someday,” Rach said with confidence. “And when it does, things like how long it’s been, or if he fits into your life the way you think no one can, won’t matter. You’ll just love him too much to care,” she beamed. She leaned in and Adam kissed her forehead.

  Growing up I always loved that side of Rachel, the side that believed in fairytales. I suppose it was appropriate that she found her prince charming and they had fallen instantly in love. It was how she always wanted it to be. I loved that side of her because I envied it.

  I didn’t know when I stopped believing in happily ever after, but I knew by the time we were in high school I was firm in my decision about marriage. It wasn’t happening. Ever.

  A husband and children didn’t fit into my plan, still didn’t. But Rachel never stopped believing. As I sat across from her, watching the two of them kiss and smile at each other, I knew that was her wish come true. I also knew I was losing my best friend.

  Cade reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb over my fingers. When he caught my eye he mouthed to me, “Are you okay?”

  I nodded and squeezed his hand. I expected that he’d let go then, but he didn’t. He rested our hands in my lap and continued on with the conversation.

  “Speaking of surprised, Alex, you didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone. How did I miss out on that gossip?” Rachel asked.

  It was precisely those awkward questions that kept me from wanting to bring Cade. How do you explain that you aren’t “seeing” someone? Oh well, he barged in on my BDSM-for-hire session, which turned out to be a big manipulation scheme by the crime boss I used to date. He kidnapped my client, and we haven’t stopped sleeping together since. Nope. This wasn’t a good way to explain things, so I worked on brushing off the question.