by Ivy Rose
When I had the first lead, I knew she would try to stop me, so I stopped sleeping until my body was too exhausted to do anything but fall into the darkness that had consumed me.
No matter how many times I’ve told him not to come around, he still turns up every couples of months to make sure I’m still breathing.
“What do you want, Carter?”
He leans against the door frame, watching me, trying to see if any of his old partner remains.
It’s fucking hilarious that he still has hope for the man that died the same day my wife took her last breath.
“Derek has passed. His funeral is this weekend.”
I haven't heard his name in over a year when Carter first told me he had cancer. “I’m not fucking going there.” I stand to full size and my lips curl up.
Shaking his head. “He was Avery’s father. He’s been raising Juliet.”
At their names, my chest tightens to the point where I can’t breathe.
“You've wasted your time.” I slam the door shut so hard it rattles. I gasp for breath as I place my hands on my knees. Just their names and it brings me to my fucking knees. I can't go back there and see my baby girl. I can’t see the look her in eyes, knowing I’ve fucking failed her twice—saving her mother and killing the man that pulled that gun. To keep her safe, I have men watching her. I know she is safer, but she will never truly be safe until I put the man that stole our sun, our heart, our love in the ground.
I pull up into the third parking space in the second row. I see a welcome banner. “Fuck.” I forgot the new officers were starting today. My fingers clench on the wheel as I decide whether to go in or not. I grit my jaw, contemplating a second more, but the name scribbled on the piece of paper burns into me. I swing the door open, getting out. I walk through the new crowd of officers mixed with some old timers and hear my name buzzing around like a persistent swarm of insects that won't give up.
Somehow, I draw more attention to myself here than back home. That pissed me off for two reasons.
The first was that if people knew your face and your reputation, they thought they could talk to you. The second was they also thought they knew my story. They had heard the gossip. The news of Avery’s death had even reached here, a hundred miles away.
I don't speak to anyone as I head to my office. I hadn't planned on staying with the forces, but they had computers and info that saved me weeks, sometimes months, for finding the next lead. I returned around ten years ago and made detective a couple years after. Everything was part of my plan to help me find them.
I watch as the newcomers, even people I've worked with for years, shrink back from my threatening look. I’m not small at just over six feet. Even though I’m in my early forties, I still have the same power and strength of when I was twenty. People shy away the closer I get to my office, eventually not even looking at me by the time I reach the door.
I walk in, turning on my computer. As I wait for it to start, I avert my eyes to the window.
I can't help thinking about Derek. He was a good man. He had hated my guts at first, even asked Avery to pick between us, but he was just looking out for his daughter. As much as I had wanted to hate him for hurting my girl, I understood his actions. He thought he was losing his beautiful daughter and wanted to hang on to her, just like me. He wouldn't ever have been ready to let her go.
I wonder how Sharon is doing. She’s strong, like my girl. She's where Avery got it from. But she loved that man something stupid.
My poor baby girl. The only man she knows as a father is dead. Is her heart broken? Is her face tear-streaked from pain? The thought of my baby girl hurting in any way makes my chest tighten. I would burn down the world to stop her from feeling any pain.
A new wave of darkness washes over me at the thought of my baby girl, my Juliet, and the fact I will never hear her call me Daddy, all our shattered plans.
I doubt she would even know me. I don't know how much Sharon and Derek told Juliet about me, if anything at all. I could live with that pain because I know they tell her about her mother, my girl. They tell her how much she loved, how rare she was, and what it was like to be loved by someone like Avery.
There is a knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Izzy, my secretary, walks in. “Good morning.” Her voice is soft.
It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole I am to her or how cold my tone is, she still smiles at me.
She walks to my desk, placing the files on my desk. I’m not one for talking on the best days, so Izzy doesn't take any offense. “You need to sign these.”
I nod, the only confirmation that I heard.
Izzy stands there, which isn't like her. She normally just walks away, but now she moves from foot to foot.
I lift my eyes slightly to hers.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Stone. The officer who was appointed to you has pulled out.” She looks nervous.
“If there isn't anything else…”
Her eyes widen slightly before she hurries out of the office.
I pull the note out of my pocket. Unraveling it, I take my first look at the name—Braxton Jameson.
I write his name in the database. It takes seconds for my screen to fill with the information. I pale as I read the screen and I know I've just gone deeper into the tangled web of deceit.
None of it makes sense. I know he couldn't have been involved. I fucking know this for fact. He was just a kid at the time.
It takes everything in me to not fucking bust Benny’s kneecaps open and take a few more of his fingers for feeding me this shit information. I have hit so many fucking dead ends over the years. Every fucking one is another blade cutting my scars, just another way I let my beautiful down.
But something in my fucking gut is telling me that this lead isn't a dead end. It’s the key to Pandora’s box and I am about to fucking open it.
Dominic
Standing with the sunlight behind her, she looks like an angel—my angel. Her smile warms every cold part of me.
“Beautiful.”
She runs toward me like she's missed me as much as I've missed her. Instead of running into my arms, she stops in front of me, placing a hand against my face.
I lean in. The demons quieted down at her touch and the darkness disappears. My eyes scan every inch of her and her smile widens like she knows. I pull her close to my chest and feel her against me. I close my eyes.
My girl.
I breathe her in coconut and something that just her closing my eyes letting it consume me.
She pulls back. Leaning up, she kisses my lips. Her lips are no longer cold but warm.
I grab her waist, deepening the kiss and showing her exactly how much I've missed her.
The kiss ends too soon.
Her eyes light up with mischief.
“What’s got my girl smiling like that?” It’s the way she always smiles when she has a surprise or something planned.
She starts to fade away.
“No, no, no, baby. Don't leave Avery, please.”
“I will never leave you, baby. Look with your heart. I love you, Dominic Stone.” Her voice sounds like it’s caressing me, like a soft whisper on the summer breeze.
I jolt awake. It hurts. Fuck, does it hurt. I tighten my jaw to stop the pain that is surfacing in waves.
I move into a sitting position, and the leather couch pulls against the warmth of my skin. I slept in the living room again.
I crack my neck before putting my head between my hands.
She has never spoken to me. In all my dreams of her, she has never once spoken to me. Just that soft wind that seems to carry her voice.
What the fuck did she mean to see with my heart? Does she want me to love again? To move on? Is that what she came back to tell me?
Anger makes my heart beat for a whole different reason now.
You’re not getting rid of me, beautiful. You’re mine.
Why am I having the dreams again? Am I ge
tting closer?
I quickly jump in the shower.
I see my mobile is lit up like the fourth of July. There are three missed calls and four new messages from Carter. I unlock the main screen and see: The funeral went as well as well as can be expected. Juliet is strong.
Just like Avery.
I don't look at any of the rest, deleting them without even reading.
I grab my keys.
I walk into my office. Everyone else has gone and its approaching midnight.
I come to a stop when I see young, dark-haired women holding the picture of my girl. I snatch it out of her hands, placing it back on my desk. I stare the woman down with a look that intimidates most men.
She doesn't seem phased by me. Instead, her green eyes take me in—not in a sexual way, but curious.
“Stone-cold Dominic Stone,” she says.
“Is there a reason you’re in my fucking office touching my stuff?” I growl.
She raises her eyebrow. “Looks like you got a new partner, Stone.”
Holding out her hand. “Lettie.”
I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. “I don't do partners.”
She raises her eyebrows.
She’s got balls. I’ll give her that.
“That’s not what I heard. You used to have a partner.”
Her smart mouth just got her a one-way ticket out of here. Whether she goes in tears is up to her. I take a step forward.
Her eyes widen and her arms drop to her sides.
“What is it you think you know?” I bare my teeth, but she looks at me straight in the eyes.
“I know everything, Stone, every horrific detail. I know how you were a good cop, the fucking best there was. I'm surprised there isn't a statue in your damn honor.” She stares me down. “I know that Carter was your partner, your best friend. You were like brothers. I know that Mac was your shadow. You guys were a unit, a force.”
I nod my head for her to go on.
She bites her lip, debating what to say.
“Don't stop there. What happened next?” I walk even closer to her.
She turns her head away and I see her jaw clench as she looks up to the ceiling. She turns to me, her green eyes glassy. “Your wife jumped in front of bullet for you and she died in your arms, even though she didn't take her last breath until a few weeks later in the hospital. You had a baby girl, Juliet. She was brought up by your wife's parents because you left the day of your wife's funeral to seek justice and to make sure the monsters stayed away from your daughter.”
She’s done her homework. Does she think that it impresses me? It had been in every paper. She only had to pull up an old one and listen around town for a minute.
“I'm not seeking justice for my wife.” I grind out, nearly nose to nose with her. “When I find them, I will kill them and wash my hands in their blood.” I wait for her to run scared.
Instead, she nods her head as if she's in fucking agreement. “I can help.”
Now I fucking laugh. It's not a real laugh. It sounds maniacal, even to my own ears. “Yeah, and how the fuck do you think you can do that? It’s taken me twenty years and you just got out of diapers.”
I don't know why I’m even talking to her. I should chuck her out, but she’s more ballsy than most of the new men recruits, let alone the women.
Shaking her head at me, rolling her eyes. She places a file on the desk.
I know it instantly. The big red letters. “unsolved” mock me. “How the fuck did you get this?” I spit.
crossing her arms over her chest. “I'm more like my dad than people think.” She shrugs.
I raise my eyebrow. “He’s a cop.”
She doesn’t look at me as she nods.
I wonder if I know him. It explains a whole lot of shit. “He happy you’re here?”
She looks at me over her shoulder, her eyes wide. “No! He would likely bust a nut. I'm sure he still thinks of me as his little girl.”
Leaning on my desk with my arms crossed. “He's protective of you?” For some reason I need to know the answer.
She plays with the edge on the file.“Yes.”
I nod, looking at the floor before back to her. “I've been through that case a thousand times. There’s nothing in there.” I rub my face with hand. “I don't even know why I’m fucking telling you this shit.”
She steps forward. “No gun was ever found and no eye witnesses.”
I grind my jaw. I know what that file says. It was like the bullets had appeared out of nowhere. On a busy street no one saw anything and a weapon was never found.
She bites her bottom lip again.
I decide it's a thing she does when she thinking.
“What about the phone records? There something that's just not right. Plus, they were not in the original file. It’s like someone took them and then replaced them.”
She quickly sifts through the file. Pulling out the piece of paper, she points to the highlighted area. It was Molly and Avery’s conversation.
I close my eyes. I can almost hear Avery’s voice as Lettie reads it. She comes to the last line. “Oh no what's he doing.”
She looks up at me.
I take a step back and stumble as I grip the desk. “No, that’s wrong. Because if it’s right, that means…” I try to control my breathing, I look up to her and her face softens.
She swallows, and tear falls down her cheek. “Your wife knew her killer.”
My vision doesn't go black. It goes bright fucking red.
The cheers of the crowd are so loud, I can't hear any fucking thing. I sit in the office away from it from it all. If I win this fight, I get my meeting with Braxton.
It has been a month since I destroyed my office and left the police force for good. Everything in me knows Braxton is the key to all this.
“Fuck, have you seen the crowd?” Benny frowns, looking out the window and watching as people start to spread money like wild fire. He comes back to face me and circles another three times. “Fuck Benny, sit down.”
He looks at me before sitting on the edge of an old desk.
Tonight, the fight is in a run-down shoe business that went bankrupt a few years back, and everything in this office is moth bitten or fucking broken.
He rubs a hand through what is left of his hair and lets out a long sigh. “Dominic, where you’re going after you meet Braxton? You’re begging for a visit to hell.”
I try to hide the smirk that tries to creep onto my face. I look up at him. “I'm already there.”
He studies me a little more before he nods. “If I had the place, I’d give it to you and let you walk away from all this.” I narrow my eyes, sitting straighter.
He’s hiding something.
“What are you not telling me, Benny?”
He rubs a hand through his almost bald hair. “They know you’re sniffing around. They've kicked in one of their own. It was the only way to get the meet.”
I nod slowly. I know what he’s telling me is that this fight isn't a normal fight. It’s a death fight. Only one person is walking away.
I keep my face cold as I stand up, smacking my hands together and warming them up. There is still a tinge of soreness in my left cheekbone from the last fight and my fucking shoulder is in pain from beating the bag the last few days, things the other fighter will look for. He’ll probably go for those spots, though I have a strong punch and if I get the right swing, I can do some damage. More than anything, I have been waiting for this fight for the last twenty years.
Benny smacks a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “Just called a marker. This fighter is slow, but he's heavy weight. A bald fucker. They call him Silas. He killed the last few men he was put in the ring with. Whatever you’re fucking after, they are hell-bent on keeping you away.”
I shake my shoulders out, rolling my neck. Jumping from foot to foot.
“He got a bad arm a few years ago in a fight.”
I smirk. “You mean in an alley fight.”
He looks blankly at me before shaking his head. “Humor me, Stone. The guy has a weakness they’ve hidden. Yours, you wear like fucking armor, a noose around your neck. You need to do whatever you can to find his fucking weakness and attack it until the ring is a pool of blood. It’s the only way you’re going to walk away from this.”
I look him straight in the eyes. “He's mine.”
He nods, but he doesn't look confident. He's never loved anything apart from the green that crosses his hand. Doesn't know what holding your wife’s lifeless body in your arms feels like. That penance stays alive in your veins.
I hold the necklace I never take off in my hand, kissing the ring before putting it in my pocket. Love you, Avery Stone.
He shoves past my shoulder, walking over to the window. He looks back at me and I lift my chin. He studies me a second more before raising his thumb up to the announcer.
The light goes out—darkness, my home.
I can hear the rumble of the voice announcing the first tribute.
Standing closer watching the far side of the building. He comes out looking just as Benny had described him. He’s built like a tank and ink-covered, a lot of them prison tats. His lips pull up into a sneer, baring his teeth.
The crowd cheers. Some boo as he pushes a few of the crowd.
He takes the center of the concrete ring. His arms wide. “Come on, you fucking pussy!”
The crowd shouts louder as he tries to banter with me. He throws his fingers up in my direction.
I feel Benny’s stare. I look over to see him pale, sweat dripping down his brow.
“Don't bet against me.”
He tries to grin to reassure me.
Taking the first step to the staircase, just in time for the announcer to call my name.
I walk across the room silently with the smell of blood in my nostrils from the warm-up fights before me.
I look behind Silas to a group of men behind him. One has a long scar running down his face. When he smiles at me, it reminds me of the Joker.
Silas is bouncing on his feet with adrenaline. Benny’s source was right. He does have a slight limp in his left leg. The fact that he is showing it means he already thinks he’s the fucking winner.