Heat (Tortured Heroes Book 2)

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Heat (Tortured Heroes Book 2) Page 16

by Jayne Blue


  False wall. The chipped paint paneling had pulled aside, revealing a tight hiding spot. Damn. I became two people. One detached, hovering above myself. That guy was calm, clinical. So this was how I would die. Lewis had a friend, it seemed. Lyle and Reardon would blame themselves forever. Sure, it was their fault, but I was the dumb shit who sent Lyle down the stairs.

  Then there was the other guy. The one who didn’t get a fucking chance to scream for help before two black-gloved hands closed around my neck and started to squeeze. Blood clouded my vision. My temple throbbed from the deep gash he’d opened there from the hammer blow. My right arm didn’t want to move. He was on me, pressing his knee into the middle of my back as he tried to choke me out.

  “Die, motherfucker!” That odd, detached part of me could barely make the words out past his thick, Slavic accent. He tried to crush the bones in my neck. The whole room went fuzzy gray as I tried to suck air into my lungs.

  I kicked back and got lucky. I landed my foot right between his legs. It was just enough to get him to loosen his grip and shift his weight off my back. I rolled to my side again and kicked hard, sending the guy back against the wall.

  “Lyle!” I shouted, but I had no volume. Again, I went for my weapon but it was gone. I saw it then, out of the corner of my eye. It had skidded against the wall, right behind the PC tower. Too far to get to fast enough. My eyes went up and up. The man was a tank. He came at me, charging into my midsection and knocking the wind out of me. He had the hammer in his hand again. I leaned far to the side as he brought it down. He drove it into the floor beside me but caught the top of my ear. I heard a sick, tearing sound and felt hot blood pour down the back of my neck. He swore but the words made no sense. Russian, maybe.

  Dammit, he was big. Close to three hundred pounds at least. Bald, greasy. Pasty white skin and hazel eyes. He was too big to throw off me. He pinned my right arm to the floor by jamming his knee into my elbow. I couldn’t reach my weapon. I just prayed he couldn’t see it.

  He shifted his weight and left me an opening. I brought my knee up hard and smashed it between his legs. He grunted and his eyes went out of focus. Adrenaline coursing through me, I shoved him hard in the center of the chest and managed to get out from under him. I slammed my left forearm into the back of his neck so hard I heard a small bone break and pain exploded up to my shoulder. I got enough leverage to kick him.

  Then I punched him, breaking his nose. A spray of blood covered his face. I punched him again. And again. I sat on his chest and held him down. He tried to get up one last time and I drove my fist into his throat. Finally, he stopped trying to get up, but I kept punching. I scrambled off him, dove for my weapon, then pressed the barrel into his forehead and started to read him his rights through gasping breaths. I had to stop halfway through and spit out blood. He probably couldn’t understand a word I said anyway.

  Lyle and Reardon tumbled into the room together.

  “What took you so fucking long?” I asked. Though that other guy, the one hovering and detached, knew the whole thing had probably gone down in less than a minute.

  “Help me get him over,” I said, staggering to my feet. The room swayed and bile bubbled up in my throat. “Cuff the son of a bitch.”

  It was the last thing I managed to say before a blanket of blackness fell over my eyes and I finally hit the floor.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Stella

  He said he’d be late and I knew the drill. How many nights had I stayed up worrying about Brian? He used to tell me never worry if I hadn’t heard from him. He said if anything bad ever happened, there would be a knock on my door instead.

  Mitch had been keyed up on the phone. He tried to play it down but I knew better. Something big was happening tonight. Which meant something dangerous. I walked out the back door, hugged my arms around me and walked out to the water.

  I could see why Mitch loved this place so much. Quiet solitude and fresh air. The antithesis of the hard concrete and grime of downtown Northpointe and all the darkness he had to deal with. But here it was beautiful. The weeping willow swayed beside me; an old, wooden swing hung from its thickest branch. His father had built it for him long ago. I went to it. The rope creaked but held when I sat down and started to sway with the tree.

  It would get better. It had to. I hadn’t told Mitch, but I’d made use of my time staying with him. I’d widened my net and applied for a few jobs outside of Northpointe. It was just a backup plan, but I couldn’t just sit on my hands and wait for him to make everything all right again.

  Just this morning, I’d gotten a call from a nursing home in Fort Myers near my parents’ condo. They wanted to interview me next week. I was upfront about the issue with my background check. They said they’d work with me and if things panned out, they’d hold the position until I could square everything away. It was a lot of money. Almost twice as much as Collingwood Elementary had been willing to pay. I hadn’t had the heart to tell Mitch about it yet. Mostly because I was afraid he’d tell me to go. The thought of leaving him tore at me. I’d grown to need him with a fierce passion that scared me a little. And we’d so far avoided talking about anything serious where the two of us were concerned. We were content for now just to be with each other. No promises. No regrets. But just a few weeks ago, I might have jumped at the job in Florida. Now? Everything was different.

  In the distance, the Northpointe Bridge’s lights started to glow, going from blue to green, pink to orange. Hypnotic. Beautiful. Yes, I could see why this place meant so much to Mitch. But it saddened me that he’d been out here for so long all alone. I just didn’t know if I was strong enough to change that with him.

  Headlights rounded Mitch’s curving driveway and my heart flared. I would wait back here for him. I wanted to watch his tall, strong silhouette fill the doorframe when he saw me from the porch door. I started to kick my legs and get air. Wind whipped my hair back and lifted my skirt. I would catch him around the waist and pull him to me. Then we’d make love under the weeping willow and watch the stars come out. I could chase the darkness out of his eyes and bring him back into the light again. Nights like this, it almost felt like I was born for it.

  I heard voices instead. The front door didn’t open. I dug my feet into the grass and stopped swinging. My heart seemed to turn to ash. It filled my throat so I could hardly breathe. Two uniformed officers came around the side of Mitch’s house. If something bad ever happens, there will be a knock on the door. I knew them. Officers Smalls and Walling. Lori smoothed her black hair away from her face where it had come loose in her bun.

  “No,” I whispered. Then I wasn’t here anymore. No longer beneath the weeping willow with the lazy river rippling beside me. I was there, at my shitty little apartment on downtown Main Street. Ten years vanished in the blink of an eye and it happened all over again. In my mind’s eye, it wasn’t Lori Walling walking toward me. It was Ray Huckman. My friend. Mitch and Brian’s academy classmate. He was carrying his hat in his hand, his face grim. His patrol car’s flashing lights reflected in his badge, nearly blinding me. He came to me and said the words that shattered my world forever.

  “Stella? It’s Brian. It’s bad. I need you to come with me. We don’t have a lot of time. I’m so sorry.”

  His voice had cracked then. I’d pushed against his chest. Huck’s arms were strong, his chest like granite. He’d held me against him and I realized we were keeping each other up. Grief and fear ripped through us both at the same time.

  I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.

  “Stella?” Not Huck. A woman’s voice, but still low and grave. She put a hand on me. I don’t remember ever stepping off the swing, but I had. We were almost at the back porch.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he? Please, just tell me. I’ll die myself if you don’t tell me.”

  Lori rubbed my arm. “He’s hurt. That’s all I know. Let’s just get there. It’s going to be all right.” But I saw the look on her face. She’d
said that last thing on autopilot. Once she’d actually heard it, I think she knew she shouldn’t have. Oh God.

  I staggered away from her and pushed through the screen door. Get a bag. That’s what they’d told me. Pack a few things. A toothbrush? What? My purse hung from a hook near the back door so I grabbed it. Lori had a hand on the small of my back and led me toward the front of the house. Each step I took my mind went to that other awful night. It had felt just like this. And just like then, I knew it was all my fault.

  Mitch was broken. His face was swollen and purple, almost unrecognizable if not for his thick, wavy brown hair and that one, brilliant green eye he struggled to focus on me. The other was caked shut with blood.

  He tried to sit up and talk when he saw me, but ended up falling back against his pillow. The nurse beside him held a plastic pan. He leaned over and threw up into it.

  My heart had only just started beating again. Mitch was alive. Not dead. Alive. Hurt. In so much pain. And yet, I still couldn’t find a way to breathe.

  “Stay still,” she cautioned. “Until the room stops spinning.”

  “When do you suppose that will be?” he said, sounding like he had a mouthful of marbles.

  “Probably not for a day or two.”

  The nurse smiled at me. She wore colorful scrubs with a rainbow pattern. She was young, fresh-faced, standing tall and straight beside Mitch’s bed. I went to take his hand, but it was swollen too and bandaged all the way to his shoulder.

  “He’s going to be okay,” the nurse said. “That is, if he’ll quit trying to get up. He’s been asking for you so maybe that’ll put a stop to his escape plan.”

  “Good,” I said, sinking into the chair next to the bed. I’d like to say I moved deliberately, but my knees simply gave out. I was lucky I had a soft landing spot.

  “A couple of broken ribs, a broken radius in his left arm. Concussion probably, but they’ll take him up to imaging in a bit to be sure. In fact, I’m going to see what the holdup is with that. You staying?”

  I almost broke down. When Mitch turned his head again and focused his one good eye on me, warmth flooded through me. “I can stay,” I said, my voice shaky. The nurse checked the lines running into Mitch’s good arm, patted him on the shoulder and left the room.

  “You look awful.” Mitch choked out his words. When I laughed, it came out squeaky and high. Not me. Not me at all.

  “What happened?”

  Mitch tried to shift his weight so he could sit higher on the bed. He went still, lines of agony etching his face. Then he sank back into his pillow. “It might not seem like it, but it’s good news. I think we caught the guy that messed with you. Not the shooter. Not yet. But I think we’ve cracked the identity theft ring.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut tight. The news should have made me happy. Relieved. But all I could think about was the truth. Mitch was lying in this hospital bed because of me. Another man I loved had come into harm’s way because of me. When I opened my eyes, flashes of Brian, lying in a hospital bed just like this one, superimposed over Mitch and back again. I couldn’t shake it. Just like back at Mitch’s house. I was here and there at the same time and it was a living hell.

  “Stella? Baby? What is it?”

  I tried to hold it together. It didn’t work. Tears streamed down and I sobbed so loud, Officer Walling poked her head back into the room. God, what must she have thought?

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Mitch let out a weak chuckle. “Come over here,” he said. “On my good side so I can touch you.”

  I snorted, rubbing my nose with the back of my sleeve. “You don’t have a good side.”

  He laughed full out and clutched his chest. “I mean, my right. The side where my arm works.”

  Slowly, I got up and went around the other side of the bed. I took Mitch’s hand. It felt warm and safe. His strong pulse helped steady my own.

  “What is it?” he said. “I’m okay. I got a little careless. That’s all. But it’s a good outcome. You really should see the other guy.”

  “It was my fault.” I blurted it. I felt raw, unmoored. I gave voice to something I’d never had the strength to say before. But in that moment, I needed to. All of this. Mitch and Brian. Brian and Mitch. They were the same. My memories unspooled over and over in a continuous loop. I couldn’t stop it. Not then. But now I knew I could. At least for me. “If I hadn’t said those things to him. I knew he was so angry when he left that night. I should have stopped him.”

  “Stella? Baby? What are you talking about? Help me out. My head’s a little fuzzy.”

  It all came crashing down around me. Memories. Grief. Fear. I buried my face in my hands. Once I’d started, I couldn’t stop. It was the wrong time. It was always the wrong time. And because of it, everyone I loved got hurt. When I lifted my eyes and met Mitch’s again, I knew what I had to do. He would survive. This time. But I could never be the cause of danger to him again. Brian could never change. Mitch couldn’t change either. It had to be me.

  “Brian,” I said, my voice going cold. “The night he died.”

  “Stella, this isn’t like that.”

  I nodded. “It’s exactly like that. You got hurt tonight because of me. You were working my case. You’ve been desperate to get it solved because of your feelings for me. I’ve messed with your head just like I did Brian’s.”

  He squeezed my hand and opened his mouth to say something, to deny it, but I wouldn’t let him. He had to know the last truth. I took my hand away from his, and pulled Brian’s ring off my finger. Wearing it was a lie anyway, even on my right hand.

  “I ended it with him,” I said. “That night. God. We’d sent the invitations out already and everything. But I was selfish. I couldn’t go through with it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Mitch’s eyes turned cold. But of course they would, once he knew the truth.

  “I gave this back to him. God. Mitch. He was in his uniform. He was so handsome in it. Even then. Even with all that pain and anger in his eyes. I should have waited. I knew he was about to go out on the streets. I knew what that meant. Why didn’t I just wait until the next morning? What the fuck is wrong with me?”

  “Stella, don’t.”

  “No! I won’t put you or anyone else I love through this again. You’re here now. You’re safe. Thank God, you’re safe. But now you know why. Brian was so angry. I’d never seen him like that. He begged me not to leave him. He threw himself at me. Went to his knees. It wrecked him. He promised he’d change. But once I started, I thought I wouldn’t be strong enough again. So I kept going. I said such awful things to him out of rage. I thought he was seeing that girl again. The one from the academy. I saw her car driving by my apartment again. But it doesn’t matter now. He wasn’t himself when he walked out that door. He was hurt and full of despair and I did that to him. And he got killed because of it.”

  Mitch closed his eyes. He took his good hand out of mine and pressed it against his forehead.

  “You said it yourself. I’ve heard you. When you were talking to Huck and some of the others. You said he was reckless that night. And you were angry with him but you should have been angry with me. I wasn’t ever brave enough to tell you the truth. I’m still not. Even now. But I can’t go through this again. I just can’t.”

  “Stella.”

  Then just like that night all those years ago, I knew if I stopped now, I’d never have the strength to finish. It hurt. God, it ached. I was still selfish. Only this time, I could do something to save the man I loved. He could hate me for it. I would hate myself. But he would live to feel it. But I knew in that moment I wasn’t strong enough to ever have police officers coming to my door again.

  Before Mitch could say another word, I leaned down and kissed his forehead through my tears. Then I turned, walked out, and changed the future.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mitch

  “You’re one lucky son of a bitch.”

&nb
sp; If I heard those words one more time, I might have just punched something and busted my other arm. This time, they came from Steve Caulkins. I’d made it through the last round of tests, had my arm set, and they’d moved me up to a regular room. Morning light peeked through the slats on the pink plastic blinds above my hospital bed. I felt empty inside. Hollowed out. Stella was gone.

  I let the truth of that settle over me and sink into my broken bones. I didn’t blame her. I should have seen this coming. Hell, I should have stopped it from ever getting this far. Fucking Ken Bardwell was right about all of it. Being with me hurt Stella in ways I’d never imagined. If I hadn’t been so damn selfish, if I’d taken a step back and gone slow, I would have seen it. Now she was the brave one. I could be brave too and let her go. Except it hurt more than the hammer blow I’d taken to the head.

  “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “Slow down, slugger. They want to keep you here until tomorrow. Make sure all your marbles are intact. Chief Lewandowski’s on his way up.”

  “I mean it. I need to get to the lab and get to work on those hard drives.”

  Caulkins laughed. “Relax. It’s being taken care of.”

  Cold rage bubbled in my stomach. “Taken care of? By who?”

  “You know, you’re good at what you do. But a big part of that is the fact that you’ve got a well-trained team that knows what they’re doing because you taught them. O’Banion has started the forensics. We’ve already found a treasure trove. I don’t think Edwards and Lewis ever thought they’d get caught. O’Banion says nothing’s encrypted on that hard drive. He thinks he’ll have a solid case built in less than twenty-four hours. And I’ve saved the best for last. Lewis squealed like a baby as soon as we got him into an interview room. He knows he’s facing real time for this one. He folded like a cheap card table. He’s given up cousin Larry in the hopes of some leniency. Sad part is, he’ll probably get it if your best friend, Judge Pierce, touches any of this. And, the best part … your girl … Stella? We already know who the buyer was with her information. There’s another woman named Stella Tenney. We’ve hooked up with Carson City PD. They’ve got a thick file on her. Plus, she appears to have been too stupid to lay low. Got into some trouble in Vegas just last weekend. She’s already in custody.”

 

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