Fixing Fate: A Pleasant Valley Novel

by Anna Brooks

  I hand it over to him, and he whistles. “Know how to pick ’em.”

  I nod but don’t answer.

  He passes the cell back and then stubs out the orange embers hanging off his cigar. “When do you think you’ll be needing my services?”

  “Soon.”

  “You know I’ve got eyes all over me, brother. Just because you were on the other side of the law once don’t mean they ain’t gonna be all over your ass for this impromptu visit.”

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  He sighs and points at the picture on his desk of him and his sister. “She still has nightmares. Still sees him. Her scars make her think she ain’t beautiful.”

  Fuck. I was hoping he wouldn’t go here. “Lenny, man. Don’t—”

  “Fuck that.”

  I look him square in the eye. “I was doing society a favor. If you didn’t do it, he woulda gotten shanked.”

  “But I wouldn’t have gotten the revenge I needed.”

  I nod in agreement. “I had a sister. I would have done the same thing.”

  I will never forget the amount of blood I walked in on that night. I was a rookie, first few months on the force. Could have destroyed my career. But even as a newbie, I knew who this girl was and how powerful her brother was on the streets. Revenge was inevitable.

  Dirt swallows. “He cried”—a menacing laugh bubbles up his throat—“like a little bitch. Pussy ass motherfucker. He actually offered me money... like that would take away the fact he... that he cut her up with the same knife he held against her throat while he fucking broke her spirit.”

  I literally have to swallow the vomit in my throat as I remember. I was the first to arrive, the closest to the scene. “I thought she was dead. Once the medics loaded her up, I puked my guts out. Never seen something so brutal. He needed to stop breathing.”

  “I still don’t know how you found him.”

  I shrug. “I have my ways.” It really was luck, but to play that card would be a mistake; it’d show weakness. After she was taken to the hospital, I interviewed the neighbors in the worn-down housing development and got a description. Fear this fucker could get his sick hands on my own sister drove my determination to find him. Dirt was just a little faster than me.

  “You kept your word. After all these years.”

  Nodding, I agree. When I traced the man, Paul, back to his place, a dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere, I was alone. Or at least I thought I was. I couldn’t sleep, knowing this sick bastard was out there. I had an unhealthy desire for justice; it was so stupid. I could have gotten caught, but fury outweighed the consequences. When I entered Paul’s house, I found Dirt sitting on a chair, watching as the bastard looked at me with relief, as if I would help him. I’ll never forget the words Dirt said. “I haven’t done anything yet, but if you need a reason to arrest me, here ya go.” Then he tossed a knife across the room, and it stuck in the fucker’s stomach. He cried out against the gag in his mouth.

  I squatted down next to Dirt, unafraid of the man’s merciless reputation. When I met him at the hospital I had to hold him back from barging through the door to see his sister while she was in surgery. He lost his shit in front of me, and I shielded him from everyone else in the hospital. Just like then, all I see is a big brother’s love for his sister. “Make it hurt.” I told him as I stood up and clasped him on the shoulder.

  Dirt’s eyes actually showed surprise, and he nodded.

  “If you can’t make him disappear, that’s on you. As far as I’m concerned, I was never here.”

  It took only two steps before I was in front of Paul. I flexed my neck side to side, and then beat the shit out the sick bastard, finally stopping with a foot to his crotch. Dirt nodded at me on my way out. “Marker, brother.”

  I don’t know how many more beatings he took from Dirt before he was finally killed, but as far as I’m concerned, it wasn’t enough. His body was never found.

  That memory always makes my gut churn. So here I am, calling my marker in now. “My girl, she was…” I don’t want to say the words.

  “Fuck. Which one?”

  “Older guy, Norman.”

  “What’s with the other one?”

  “He’s not right in the head. But given that he’s a fuckin’ lunatic, I’m going to stop him before he gets the chance.”

  “Let me make you a deal.” Dirt holds up the paper. “I’ll take the old guy, show him my own form of justice, then bring him to ground.”

  “He’s a ghost.”

  “I’ll find him.”

  I sigh. “Fine.” I’d have no problem killing the bastard, but I’d rather spend my time lovin’ on my woman than dirtying my hands even further.

  “When you’re ready for me to make the other fucker disappear, call me.” He slides a burner phone to me. “Only one number on there. Just tell me a location, and I’ll be there.”

  My neck cracks when I twist it. I stand and grab the phone then tuck it into my pocket. Dirt comes around the desk and clasps me on the shoulder.

  I meet his eyes and understanding flashes between us. “Make it hurt.”

  Chapter 19

  Mellie

  My knees bounce, and Erik shakes his head at me. “Stop worrying.”

  “Where the hell did he go?”

  “He’ll be back.”

  “He’s not answering his ph—”

  The garage door opens and the alarm beeps, then the door to the kitchen opens. When Smith walks in, I hold myself back from running to him because I’m not sure if I want to hug him or hit him. “Where were you?”

  “You’re up early.” He shrugs out of his jacket, and the glint of metal shines when his shirt rises.

  “Where were you?”

  He ignores my question and nods at Erik as he stalks toward me. When he gets close enough to touch, I lose my anger and lean into him. He tucks me close and kisses the top of my head.

  “Why do you smell like weed?”

  “How do you know what that smells like?” He’s probably surprised.

  “I was a normal high schooler at one point.”

  His chest rumbles. “I’ll go change.”

  “Where the hell did you go?”

  When he tries to pull away, I hold him tighter, afraid to let him go. He sighs and lifts me up. I wrap around him like a damn monkey, and he carries me upstairs. In the bedroom, he kicks the door shut and then lays me down on the unmade bed. His nose brushes against mine. “Do you know how much I fuckin’ love you?”

  An immediate rush of water hits my eyes. He’s never said it to me. He’s showed me, but the actual words have never been spoken. “Yeah?”

  “Yes, Mellie. I really do. And because you’re mine to take care of, that means I take care of you.”

  Oh, God. “What did you do?”

  “Don’t worry about it. That’s the whole point. You don’t need to worry.” He kisses my lips.

  “Smith.” The protest comes out as a moan because he slides his hand up my shirt.

  “Mellie,” he mocks.

  “You can’t distract me with your sexy moves.”

  He chuckles and does something with his mouth against my neck that makes my words null.

  I go flying through the air, end up straddling him, and he pulls us toward the head of the bed where our faces align. When he pushes me against him, I move to get the friction I was apparently looking for. He continues moving his hands all over me. Sliding down my legs, he squeezes my thighs then skims back up to tease my breasts. He even cups my butt for a moment but distracts me from where his gentle hands are by sucking on my nipple through the thin cotton of his t-shirt I threw on.

  I move over him, side to side and up and down, even in circles. “Smith,” I whisper against his ear, since my head has fallen forward. He makes me too weak to even hold myself up.

  “Yeah.” He grunts.

  “This feels really good.”

  “I know.”

  “So good.”

&
nbsp; “Wanna make it feel even better?”

  “I don’t think it can.”

  He lifts me off his lap, and I mewl in protest. “One sec.” When he reaches for his button fly, I draw in a breath. “Not too fast, right, baby?”

  “Right.”

  He kicks them off and slides my waistband down. I trust him, so I awkwardly remove the stretchy pants. As soon as they’re gone, he pulls me back down and moves me back and forth, his hands spanning my hips. “Oh, wow,” I sit up and balance with my fingers gripping into his shoulders.

  His mouth is slightly parted, but he manages a little smile. “Told ya.”

  “You’re so hard.”

  He grunts and pushes up. I put my hands on his wrists and watch him maneuver my body, using me to pleasure himself yet giving it just the same. The tip of his cock peeks out, and I moan at the sight. Removing one hand from his arm, I use my index finger to rub small circles on the angry head.

  “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Mellie.” His voice is full of lust and pain, almost.

  I push myself off him, and he squeezes his eyes closed. He doesn’t see me remove my now soaking wet underwear, and when I reach for the waistband of his, his eyes shoot open. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to do that like this.” I straddle him again, and when my core meets his, the heat between us is almost too much.

  “Goddamn. Your pussy’s on fire, baby.”

  “I know. For you.”

  “Damn. Ride me, Mellie.”

  I slide myself up and down, slow and soft, teasing him as he’s done to me. The muscles in his jaw tense. Does he not like this, too? “I want you to like it, too.”

  “Fuck, woman. I love it. Do you feel how hard you make me?”

  I press my lips together and shyly slide to the tip. I lean forward and angle myself, so he’s right at my entrance. I’m so wet he almost slides away from it, but I push, so he slides in a bit.

  “What are you doin’, Mellie?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You want it inside, baby, or you just wanna play?”

  “I don’t know.” God, what am I doing?

  “Then that means no, sunshine.”

  He pulls away, and I grip him in protest. I’m so close, and it just feels so good, I don’t want him to go away.

  “Let me show you something. If you don’t like it, then we can do something else, okay?”

  I nod, and he gently rolls me over and kisses the life out of me before falling back on his heels and pulling me closer, so I’m center with him. “You liked it right here?” He presses the tip barely inside. God, I thought more of him was in before when I did it. How is it going to all fit? I’ll worry about that when it’s time. Right now, this is perfect.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I do, too. You’re so tight. So hot. So fucking wet.” He slides it out, and I whimper. But then he puts it back. And does it again. And again. When I’m squirming, he slides his velvety hardness through my folds then taps it against my clit. I scream. So he does it again. “Oh, my God.” I think he enjoys torturing me.

  “You’re gonna make me come any minute now, baby. You ready to go with me?”

  “Oh, my God, yes.”

  He leans over me, reaches down, and slides his hardness between my slick folds. His body is moving like he’s actually inside me, and in a matter of seconds, I shatter against him. He mumbles something in my ear, and I grab his arms, digging my nails into them as the sensations peak.

  He continues his steady movements, but then they become erratic, and he pulls back just in time to come all over my stomach. His hand pumps his cock as the last drops fall out, and I pant as I come down from my spiral of ecstasy.

  He collapses next to me and kisses my heated cheek. Our fingers link between us and a few minutes go by while we come down from that orgasmic high.

  I don’t want him to think he can get away with avoiding my question by being sexy, so I ask him again. “Where did you go?”

  He sighs and mumbles something like stubborn under his breath. “I went to talk to a guy. I don’t want to lie to you, but I also want you to feel safe with me.”

  “What guy?”

  “That’s as much as you’re going to get, Mellie. I might love you, but I’m not gonna give you any more, so stop asking.”

  “Fine.” I stomp to the bathroom and slam the door. Before I even have a chance to clean myself up, he’s in my face.

  “Don’t do that shit.”

  “What shit?” I cross my arms and lift my chin.

  “Storm off all pissed off. It’s my job to protect you, and if that means keeping some things from you, then that’s exactly what I’m going to do. But I’ll be damned if you give me shit for it.” He props his hands on his hips, finally releasing a breath. “Please just let me take—”

  “Care of me, right? God, Smith. I’ve been taken care of since I was seventeen!”

  He slashes his hand through the air. “This conversation, about you and your safety, is not up for discussion. And it never will be, so stop pushing me.”

  Am I a child now? “Excuse me?”

  “Stop being so stubborn. You know what I mean, babe.”

  “All I’m asking is for you to tell me where you went.”

  “And I told you.”

  “You’re being secretive,” I whisper-shout. I hate not knowing what’s going on.

  “I know. And there’s a reason for it. I’m doing what’s best and safest for you. So please”—he holds my face between his hands—“please just trust me on this.”

  My anger melts away when he turns all sweet and caring. I know he’s looking out for me, but I just hate that I’m kept out of the loop. It’s my life, my stalkers… “I don’t want you to do something that can get you hurt or in trouble.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Promise.”

  His answer is a gentle kiss. “Take a shower. I’ll be downstairs.”

  “Okay.”

  My hair sits atop my head in a messy bun, and I quickly wash and then get dressed. When I make my way downstairs, both Erik and Smith have passed out. Erik’s hanging half off the couch, and Smith is in the ratty brown recliner. ESPN echoes in the quiet space, and I cover my mouth from the laughter fighting to get out. They’re so cute; I have to snap a quick picture. While making a pot of coffee, I open my laptop and begin to work.

  Within the hour, they both wake up, and Erik disappears upstairs to take a shower. Smith pours himself a cup of coffee and scrolls through his phone. “Fuck.”

  “What?”

  “The fuckin’ cabinet guy is there, but the order isn’t right.”

  “Oh. Is there anything I can do?”

  “No.” He kisses the top of my head. “I’ll just hop in the shower and head over there real quick.”

  “Okay.”

  Once he makes his way upstairs, I get up for a second round of caffeine. As I’m about halfway through, Smith kisses me before he leaves, and Erik comes down, pours himself a bowl of cereal, and sits next to me. He flips through a magazine, and I edit. My email notification chimes, so I open it up, not paying attention to the sender.

  When you can’t give a man what he needs, he’ll either take it or get it somewhere else.

  When I click on the attachment and a picture of Smith walking into a strip club fills the screen, I immediately feel sick to my stomach. I push back from the island and slam my laptop shut. Breathe, breathe.

  “Mellie?” Erik stands.

  “I’m, um, I just need to use the bathroom.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

  “A little. I... I’ll be back.” I rush to the bedroom. My bedroom? Our bedroom. I don’t even know. Shit. I don’t know anything. He’s going to strip clubs? I know that was him. Pictures don’t lie. He does, though. No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t lie. He loves me.

  “Mellie?” Erik steps into the room and next to the bed where I’m sitting. “You okay?”

  “Why w
ould Smith go to a strip club?”

  Apparently, I have horns or something growing out of my head, because that’s how Erik is looking at me right now.

  “Someone just sent me a picture of him walking into a strip club. It was last night. I know it was.”

  “He wouldn’t ever cheat on you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Yeah? How do you know?”

  “Because he loves you.”

  “Yeah, well.” I cross my arms.

  “Who was the picture from?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t even look.”

  “Mellie…”

  I feel even sicker now, and we both rush downstairs. I flip open the screen and have to type my password three times because my hands are shaking so badly. When I pull up my email and see the return address, I scream. “No. No, no, no.”

  Suddenly, another message pops up. Erik opens it and clicks on the attachment. Another one comes, and he does the same. I rush to the sink and heave into the silver bowl. I hear the ping of my email, again and again, each time causing more and more coiling in my stomach.

  “Make it stop.” I hold my hands over my ears and slide to the ground.

  “Motherfucker.”

  The beeping stops, but Erik’s angry voice fills the air. “Get your ass back here. Now. Physically, yes, just hurry the fuck up.”

  He sits next to me and pulls me close. I see the images in my head again and again. “He was there. He was there.” I shake, the realization of how close he’s gotten causing straight up terror to slice me open.

  “Shh, you’re okay now. He’s just trying to scare you.”

  “Well, it’s fucking working.”

  “I’m sorry, Mellie. Jesus, I’m so sorry.”

  I sit on the floor with Erik and try to control the convulsions I’m having, but every minute or so, one courses through me.

  When the front door slams against the wall, I jump. “Mellie?” Smith appears before me and scoops me up into his arms. “What happened?”

  Erik stutters.

  “What the fuck happened?”

  “Pictures,” I croak out.

  “What?”