by S. J. Bishop
"How is destroying your stuff gonna help?" I asked.
"Because it makes me feel better. You should try it sometime."
"Don't tempt me."
We stood facing off like we were mortal enemies instead of lovers. His face was set in a mass of hard lines and sharp edges, but his eyes were soft and soulful. He looked hurt.
"How are you feeling?" I finally asked him.
"Like an idiot for telling you anything at all. I should have known you'd react this way. This is exactly what I was afraid of."
"I meant, how's your head?"
He kicked at the broken table leg. "Better."
I bit my bottom lip and looked around the room he'd trashed.
"So, you've been withholding information? Paying this asshole every penny he's asked you for? How much is that?"
"About a quarter of a million dollars," Caden said. His voice was thick with rage and frustration.
"A quarter of a..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't imagine having that much money. "That's enough to pay my rent for... like, forever. You could've done so many things with that money. Charities and—"
"I don't owe anyone anything," Caden snapped. "I’ve worked hard to get where I am today. The only one I owe is myself."
I took a deep breath. "Caden, you said you wanted my help."
He nodded.
"What exactly is it you want me to do? Because it sounds like you either want me to find the blackmailer and kill him for you or help you continue to cover up what he's doing to you."
Caden looked at me with raised eyebrows. "Are either of those such a bad option?"
My mouth dropped open. "You don't mean that."
"The hell I don't. The guy who robbed me is a thief and a murderer. He killed that husband and wife. I read it in the paper. Would it be so awful if he ended up dead, too?"
"Awful? No. But I'm not killing anyone just to protect you from your past."
"I didn't mean it like that. I just don't want anything to happen to you!"
"To me? Why would something happen to me?"
Caden's face turned even redder. "Fuck, Raina, I don't know. I'm not thinking clearly. I just want this to be over with!"
"Well, then you're gonna have to figure out how to fix things without me. Because I don't want any part in your blackmailing cover up."
The thought foremost in my mind as I stomped out of the kitchen was that I couldn't have a baby with this man. A drug user. An alcoholic. Worse than all of that, he was a liar. He'd lied to me from the first moment I’d seen him again. How could I ever trust him again? The answer was simple. I couldn't.
I grabbed my purse and left. As far as I was concerned, Caden was on his own.
32
Caden
I sat on the sofa with my head in my hands, wishing I hadn't thrown away that vodka.
"You're pathetic," I mumbled to myself. "Pick yourself up and fix this."
I knew it was good advice; I just didn't know how to do that. How do you fix something that was already broken? Raina and I had never had a formal relationship, just a series of one-night stands that had amounted to something on the verge of being real. The way she'd flipped on me when I'd told her the truth haunted me.
I’d thought she'd cared for me. A deeper voice inside me told me that I'd thought wrong.
My phone rang. I jumped for it, thinking it was her.
"Raina?"
"No, but I can call her next if you like. Better yet, maybe I'll pay her a little visit."
My mouth felt dry as I tried to keep calm. "I don't care for these veiled threats you keep making against my friend," I said.
"Veiled?" Mr. Asshole laughed. "I thought they were quite obvious. I also thought you were a bit more than friends." His voice dripped with insinuation.
Maybe if I told Raina that he'd been threatening her—that his threats, more than anything, were what troubled me—she'd understand. But if I told her that, she might try to do something. She was a cop, after all. Cops did shit. This guy was dangerous. It wasn't that I didn't think she could handle herself. It was that if something happened to her and it was my fault, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
"Do you have my next batch of money?" Mr. Asshole asked. I could practically hear him grinning.
"I've got it. How long is this gonna go on? I thought you said once a month; it's been more like once a week."
"I'm playing catch up."
"Catch up?"
"There were a lot of years when I was broke. A lot of years I wasted going after small time shits when I could have been going after the biggest shit of all—you."
"But why me?"
"Why not you? You're rich. You can afford it. I'll always know there's more where the last batch came from."
I paused, considering that. Maybe I was looking at this all wrong. I kept asking myself why I'd fallen into this shit heap. It had never occurred to me that there was no reason for it beyond the simple desire for money.
"Oh, there is one little thing," Mr. Asshole said. I waited. He liked to play games. I was pretty sure that the build-up of his demands was like foreplay for him. "As I mentioned, I'm sort of playing catch up with you. So I need you to bring twice the amount of last time."
"Twice the amount?" My jaw hit the floor. "You want one hundred thousand dollars in cash?"
"I think that's what I just said, or was that too veiled for you?" The sneer in his voice made my head hurt. "If you don't want me coming back to your home again, then I'd comply."
"Fuck you," I said, forgetting myself. "I'm not giving you shit."
He was silent for a moment. "Then I'll have to take it from your girlfriend."
My heart skipped two beats. "Raina doesn't have anything. She's not rich."
"I don't always go seeking money from my victims. She lives alone. It should be easy to slip in and out."
My stomach churned. In and out? Was that another threat? What kind of sick fuck was this?
"Don't. I'll give you the money. I've only got fifty grand, but I can get the rest. Just tell me where. Same place as last time?"
"You have forty-eight hours to come up with the additional fifty thousand. I'll call you then and tell you where to drop it."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Okay."
"And Caden? Don't try anything stupid. Like ratting me out to that honeypot of yours. Remember, I know where she lives... and I like honey."
He hung up without another word. I sat and stared at my phone. Number blocked. Would it have made any difference if I'd had the number? Or a face to go with it? What exactly did I think I was going to do? Turn into Charles Bronson?
I balled my right hand into a fist and slammed it into the palm of my left hand. "Fuck it!" I yelled. Mr. Asshole thought that threatening Raina would make me complacent, but it had had the exact opposite effect.
I'd have the money ready and waiting for Mr. Asshole, but that wouldn't be all I had. One way or another, I was taking that asshole down. Even if it meant my past ended up getting out. Even if it meant I lost everything I owned, including my life. I wasn't going to risk one hair on Raina's head. I'd kill him if I had to, consequences be damned.
33
Raina
Mac was talking, but I wasn't listening. He wasn't talking to me anyway. Captain Johnson nodded his head whenever Mac paused, and I nodded with him.
The captain had asked for an update on the burglaries. Things had been remarkably quiet lately, at least as far as Mac and the captain knew. I hadn't told either of them about Caden's blackmailer. I wasn't sure if I should. The cop in me knew this was crucial information, but the part of me that loved Caden didn't want to see him get hurt. If I told them and this came out, the chances were very good that he wouldn't be able to play football again.
I bit my bottom lip. What if that wasn't right? What if I was overthinking things and so was Caden? College ball was a long time ago. He'd used a little in his freshmen year. If that was true, could the NFL really p
unish him for it now?
I turned and started toward the door.
"Parker!" Captain Johnson barked at me. My feet froze. I turned back to him. "Where do you think you're going? You're in the middle of a report."
"Oh, I, um..." Mac was staring at me like I was nuts. I shrugged. "Sorry, Mac, I kind of tuned out there. I thought you were done."
Instead of reprimanding me, Captain Johnson laughed. "You know, I have to admit, I'm tuning out a bit myself. It's this weather, I think. Fall is here. Winter's coming on. It does weird things to a person's attention span."
I nodded, grateful for this rare opportunity to get away with not paying attention. Mac's face turned pink. His teeth clenched tightly together. It was his angry face.
"Sorry that you both found me so boring that you didn't even know I was still speaking," he said.
"Now, Forster, calm down. Tell you what, why don't you write it all down and email it to me? I can look it over during lunch."
Mac opened his mouth to protest, but I dragged him out of the room before he could dig himself into a hole.
"What's the matter with you today?" he snapped at me.
"Nothing. I need to track down a phone number."
"A phone number? For whom?"
"Jax Ryder."
"The football player?"
"Yeah. Or his wife, Treena. Actually... never mind." I ran to my desk and left a very confused Mac staring after me. I got on the line to NYPD, homicide.
"Walker, here," Treena said as her voice came on the line.
"Treena, it's Raina Parker."
"Raina, hi, how are you?"
"Fine, thanks. Listen, I need to talk to someone who knows football."
She hesitated. "Don't you have Caden for that?"
"Caden and I... let's just say, I need an outside perspective. Do you think Jax would mind if I called and asked him a few questions?"
I could hear the detective in Treena start to come out. "What's this about?"
"Nothing," I told her. "At least, nothing that concerns Jax or you. It's Caden I'm worried about."
She finally gave me Jax's number. I called him up and started barraging him with questions before he could even get a word in edgewise.
"Whoa, whoa, calm down a minute," Jax said. "Give me a chance to answer. Why are you asking so many questions about NFL drug policies, anyway?"
"Because," I said.
He let out a breath. "Okay, well... to answer your first question. No, you can't get kicked off the team for something you did ten years ago. However, if it came out that you were a known user of performance-enhancing drugs, it could still have repercussions."
"How so?"
"Well, the league's probably gonna look at you a hell of a lot more closely from then on. If you were getting tested every other month, they might bump it to every other week."
"But as long as it comes back negative, you're okay?"
"Yeah, but your reputation is shot. And if you were to test positive for anything, you might as well say goodbye to your contract. Suspended without pay for up to a year."
"A year?" I gasped.
"Hey, it's better than getting thrown out for life. But try finding a team that wants you after that."
"So, what I'm hearing is... as long as you're not currently using anything, then you should be okay?"
Jax hesitated. "I guess so, yeah, except if you had a squeaky clean image before, it'd be down the drain. And image means a lot in this game."
I bit my lip while I listened to Jax breathe.
"Thanks," I finally said.
"Sure. Hey, Raina... is this about Caden? Is he okay? Is there something I should know?"
"No, Caden's fine. This is just for... research. I'm trying to make detective."
"Oh. Good luck." He didn't sound convinced, but he also didn't ask me any more questions.
I hung up and spun around in my chair, trying to think. Okay, so if things came out about Caden, that didn't necessarily translate to him losing his contract. It didn't even mean he'd get suspended. Not unless he tested positive for something now. I hated that I wondered whether or not that was a possibility.
Shit. I should just tell Mac I had a conflict of interest and pull myself off this case. But if I did that, I'd never get back on it. And I'd never make it to homicide.
I opened the folder on the burglaries that lay on my desk and started going through it. I was pissed at Caden, but I didn't want anything to happen to him. Blackmailers were low life pieces of shit. The list of names from Penn State that we'd showed Caden was sitting there. He said he'd known most of these guys but hadn't kept in touch.
"Oh shit," I said, jumping out of my chair. "Mac!" He was at my side in half a second.
"What's up?" he asked.
"What if we already know the name of the killer?"
"What do you mean?"
"What if it's on this list? What if it's one of these guys?"
"But all the people on this list had their house broken into."
"What better way to throw off suspicion?"
Mac grinned at me. "Should we start at the top or the bottom?"
"Top," I said. "It's always best to go back to the beginning."
34
Caden
Practice sucked.
I threw the ball and missed my target. Repeatedly. All I could think about was the way Raina had looked at me when she'd left my place the other morning. Like I was the biggest disappointment of her life. I hadn't tried calling her. What the hell was I supposed to say? Hey, I love you, come back to me?
Why not? asked the voice inside my head. I told it to shut up.
The money had been easy enough to get ahold of. I had millions of it. I didn't know what that idiot thought I needed forty-eight hours for, but I was glad he'd given it to me. It gave me time to plan. To prepare.
Coach waved me over to the sidelines. "What the hell is going on with you today?" he asked. "Are you even paying attention to where you're throwing?"
"Yeah," I said, "sure I am."
He shook his head. "Maybe you should hit the showers. I'm starting Conrad in the next game."
"Whatever you say," I told him. Coach's eyes bulged slightly in their sockets as I took off for the locker room without a fight. The truth was, I was glad to get off the field. My mind wasn't focused today. I was still trying to decide the best way to hide my gun when I brought Mr. Asshole his money. Should I stick it in my coat pocket? What if it fell out? Maybe I could stick it in the duffel bag with the money. But then what if he grabbed it and ran?
I opened the door to the locker room and ran right into Gavin.
"Hey, just the person I was looking for," Gavin said.
I blinked at him and looked around. "Where'd you come from? How'd you even get in? Security's crazy tight lately."
"Are you kidding me? I'm the Grizzly Bear. It may have been a few years since I played ball, but I haven't exactly been forgotten."
"Of course not. Sorry, man." I gave him a pat on the back and continued on my way. Maybe a rifle would be better than a handgun, that way I could keep my distance and still get a shot in. If I was gonna get a rifle, though, I'd have to hurry. I didn't have one at home, and I wanted to get one tonight if I was gonna go that way.
"Caden!" Gavin yelled, running after me.
I spun back toward him. "Yeah?"
He stared at me a moment. "I wanted to talk to you. That's why I came down here."
"Oh," I said. "Sorry, my mind's not here right now. Listen, I'm in kind of a hurry. Whatever it is, can we talk later?"
"Where are you going?"
"Just gotta run some errands."
"What happened to practice? I thought you'd still be out there right now. I was expecting to catch you afterward."
"Oh, Coach Hall told me to go home. He's starting Conrad next game. Listen, I'm sorry, but I've really gotta run."
"Fine, I'll walk with you. You can walk and talk, right?"
I shrugged. "Fine. Wh
atever."
I skipped the showers and changed out of my uniform. Gavin was talking the whole time, trying to fish information out of me.
"So, I've been hearing things," he said.
"Yeah?"
I knew he still thought I was drinking, and I wasn't about to get into this conversation with him again. I decided it was best to keep my answers short. I slammed my locker shut. My car keys were in hand. A few more yards to the exit, and I could get out of here.
"Alright, well, nice talking to you, Gavin. I'll see you at a meeting sometime."
Gavin put out one hand like a stop sign. "Fuck it," he said. "I'm just gonna come right out and ask you this. Are you using?"
I didn't quite get the question at first. "Using? You mean alcohol?"
He shook his head and leaned close to me, making sure that no one else was around. "I mean something more major. Something to help give you an edge?"
My heart felt like a jackhammer. "Why would you ask that?" I demanded.
He stared at me a second. "Is that a denial?"
"What the fuck kind of question is that? Of course it's a denial. Who told you that?"
He thought about it before responding, "I just heard somewhere that you might be in trouble with the league."
"Well, that's bullshit, alright? I haven't used anything since—" I cut myself off. Gavin looked at me.
"Since when?" he prompted.
"Since the third day of never," I yelled and pushed his damned hand out of the way.
"Fuck you, Caden. Don't you walk away from this." He put his hand on my shoulder and pulled me back. I spun around, fists flying, and popped him right in the jaw. He fell back against the lockers. We stared at each other a second before he ran at me, knocking me into the lockers, too. My back yelled for me to cut it out, but I couldn't stop myself.
"Tell me who told you that!" I screamed. "Who's spreading lies about me?"
I hit him in the jaw again, but he grabbed ahold of my shirt, and we both toppled to the ground.
"I ain't saying shit!" Gavin yelled. He punched me back, nailing me in my right cheek. I tasted blood as I bit down hard on my tongue. We got to our feet. I shoved him in the chest, and he fell back over a bench, knocking his head into one of the lockers. He lay there a second before standing up.