by T. E. Black
“Rook? Whatever you're hesitating on telling me, you need to get it out already. Make my job easier.”
“The detective said they have me and Lauren fighting on camera a little while before she was murdered.”
“Is this good or bad for me?”
With a sigh, I run my hands through my hair roughly. “I'm going to say bad, Jose. We were arguing in the video and I …”
The moment flashes through my mind like an old time movie.
Her touching me.
Me pinning her against the wall.
Her scratching at my arm.
My blood pumping furiously.
Her crying.
My head pounds at the thought of what happened—what I was thinking of doing in the moment. She had me so damn angry at her. I lost control of the situation. That was all it was. A slip up on my part.
“You what? Spit it out already!”
“She came into my locker room before the fight and said she had to tell me something. She admitted that her husband Mark staged everything. The divorce was never real, the lies she fed me about him degrading her, it was all a lie to set me up.”
“Set you up for what? It makes no sense. If you're going to give me bits and pieces of truth, I can't help you, Rook. So, I'm saying it one more time. Tell me everything.”
“Damn it, Josie! I'm trying! It's all jumbled in my head still. Every time I think about one thing, something else becomes clear. It's a clusterfuck!” With the force of a true fighter, I slam my palm down on the cool leather seat, staring at Josie where she sits.
“Okay,” she soothes. “Relax. I'm sorry. I can tell how hard this is for you. It's a lot to take in at once. I get it. I'm only trying to protect you. I'm not here to judge you or lecture you.”
“Did anyone else see the fight?”
“I don’t think so. It was right after they called the fight.”
“Is that why you ran out of there like Satan was on your ass?”
“You watched my fight?”
“Yeah, me and like eight million other people. Was that the reason you left and pissed off all your sponsors?”
“Yeah.” Shit. The sponsors.
“So, no one saw the fight, but did anyone see you leave? I mean, the area was packed. There had to be at least a few people hanging out in the parking lot looking to get a jump on traffic.”
“No, I left out the back. Then I walked for a while.”
“Where did you walk?”
“Jose. I don’t remember. Around. It’s not like I was pinning my location.”
“Hey. No need to snap. I’m just trying to help you. The more people we can find who saw you in that parking lot or out walking, the better.”
She's right. I'm snapping at her when all she's trying to do is help me. This isn't her fault or anyone else's. I put myself in this position. I shouldn't have lost control the way I did in the hallway with Lauren. If I just walked out when she first started pleading, this could've been avoided.
“I'm sorry.”
“It's all right. How about we talk more once we get you checked into the hotel? Maybe you can unjumble some of the mess in your head by that time.”
“Sounds good. Thanks,” I offer sincerely.
She throws me a smile, and I give one back. It's a silent exchange of apologies. We’re both stressed out with everything going on and bickering isn't helping.
“Are you kidding me? Could this day get any worse?” Josie groans and hits the botton that will drop the privacy window. “Carl, keep going! Don't stop!”
I turn just in time to see the crowd of reporters already waiting for us. It's insane.
“What the hell!” I growl. “How did they know I was coming here?”
“I have no idea, Rook, but we need a new plan. You can't go in there. You'll be eaten alive.”
Not one person besides Josie and the driver knew where I was going. Hell, I didn’t even know where until a few minutes ago. What the hell am I going to do now?
“Ma’am, do you have a new destination you'd like me to take us?” the driver asks.
“Just drive around until I can figure out what to do.”
“Of course, ma’am.”
“Where the hell am I going to go?”
“I … I don't know yet. I'm going to figure it out.” She already has her phone ready, dialing with one hand as she holds the other up to me. “Just give me a minute here.”
“How did this happen?” she asks the person on the other line. “They're everywhere! I can't take him in that building!” She pauses as the other party talks into her ear. “I agree. He needs to lie low, but where can I take him? I can't trust our locations anymore. Somebody leaked this, and I’ll find out who it was. In the meantime, I have an important fighter in my car who pays you and me to keep him out of harm’s way. So get a plan together asap.” Ending the call, she sighs as her head falls into her hands.
I feel bad for the position I've put Josie in. Her job isn't to be a security detail, yet here she is, going above and beyond, not only to be a lawyer but also a friend. It's obvious she cares about more than just what I'm paying her for.
“I'm sorry about all this. I know it's more than you bargained for. I’ll make sure you're paid for it, Josie. This isn't your job.”
Looking up at me with thankful eyes, she nods. “I need to get you out of sight. I need you somewhere secluded where no one would think to look.”
The moment she says “secluded”, a light bulb flicks on. I don’t know how I didn't think of this before. I should've had her take me there from the start. Nobody would ever think to look there. I'd be able to lie low in peace.
“How secluded are we talking?” I question.
“Off the grid.”
Chapter Eleven
Ryleigh
“Breaking news! MMA fighter Rook Wallace was brought in for questioning today for information regarding the murder of Lauren Roche.”
“Authorities aren't commenting on whether charges will be brought against Mr. Wallace, but the public hasn’t been quiet about the rumors, speaking out for Mr. Wallace as well as against. The video footage you see is of protesters and irate fans standing in a picket line in front of Mr. Wallace’s home in California.”
I watch as the camera cuts to a young woman standing in the middle of a lush, green lawn. I can only assume that it’s Rook’s place.
“So you’re telling me Rook Wallace, the man who regularly visits children’s hospitals, was sleeping with a trainer’s wife and risking his career and reputation for a woman who’s getting divorced from her husband. Then he kills her by cracking her head off a dumpster? You expect us to believe he won his fourth MMA title but then up and ruins his life for a woman he's not even married to? I’m sorry, but something doesn't add up there.”
The camera cuts to a man in his mid-thirties. “Rook Wallace is a monster! A stone cold killer, if you ask me. Not only was he sleeping with a woman who was going through a divorce, but also he was the reason she and her husband were getting it in the first place! I'm sorry, but I have no respect for men like him. I, unlike him, respect the idea that a vow of marriage is something sacred. I hope this fighter gets what he deserves—a lifetime in prison and a boyfriend in jail.”
Every talk show, news channel, sports channel, radio station, blog, and podcast is talking about Rook Wallace. Since I saw the breaking news for myself at the garage earlier, I’ve been holed up in my office at Max’s. I haven't left this room. I know that the second I do, someone will try to talk to me about him.
Most of the patrons who come in know who Trent and I are, which mean they know who Rook is to us. Though not a single one of them ever went to the press about our connection to Rook, it still isn’t a good idea to get involved with drunk people and their opinions at four o'clock in the afternoon.
Honestly, I'm in shock.
I'm confused.
I'm baffled.
I'm numb.
I know Rook would never—cou
ld never hurt a woman, let anyone murder one. The news is claiming he and the woman were having an affair. And if that were the truth, if he was sleeping with her while she was going through a divorce, he loved her.
Rook respects marriage and would never cross the line unless he thought the woman on the other side was worth it. He's also respects women in general, which is one of the many reasons I fell in love with him.
Someone knocks, and I reach for the remote as the news flips from Rook to the traffic report.
“Yeah?” The door pushes open, and Sarah pokes her head in.
“Could you grab the bar while I sneak out back for a smoke?”
“Sure. No problem. You’ve been helping me out all day. Go have your smoke.” I smile convincingly. She looks so much better than she did the other day when she walked in looking half dead. There is a little bit of life in her eyes and she has pulled her dark brown hair into a messy ponytail.
Sara studies me for a moment before speaking. “You know, no one believes what the media is saying, Ryleigh. Everyone out there,” she nods toward to bar, “knows he didn’t kill that woman. They’ve been talking about it since I started my shift.”
“That’s what I was worried about,” I mumble under my breath.
“No. You got me all wrong. They’re not talking about him doing it. They’re talking about what big assholes the talking heads are being. Everyone is saying the media is twisting the story for publicity. We all love you and Trent, which means we love Rook, too. He’s family here, Ryleigh.”
Sara takes a step toward me, giving my arm a comforting squeeze. “We are all family here. Family stands up for each other. We believe each other.”
Hearing her being so kind is enough to crack my heart ten times more than it already is. The fact that I have a group of people who care enough about me to comfort me is worth all I’ve ever done in my life. The people at the bar owe me nothing, but yet, they give to me anyway.
“Thank you. I needed that.” I give her a sad smile.
“You never have to thank us, Ryleigh. We love you. We’re worried about you. Everyone was asking where you were, and when I told them you were in your office, they wanted to come back here and talk to you. Of course, I told them to leave you be. I know what it’s like to care about someone. If something ever happened to my husband, I’d fight tooth and nail for him. I get it.”
“All right. Enough with the heavy shit.” I laugh. “Go have your smoke before I change my mind.”
“Fair enough.” She giggles, holding her hands up in a fake surrender.
I watch as Sarah skirts her way out of my office, and I take a deep breath. I have no choice now but to go out there and deal with everyone. I know she said nobody thought Rook killed that girl, but the lingering thought of what if they do still plants itself in my mind.
If everyone thinks Rook actually did this, I’m going to feel awkward. Most of the patrons have been coming in here to drink since before Rook and I even knew about this place.
“Suck it up, Ryleigh. This isn’t you. You don’t let people make your nervous. You don’t care what people think. If they want to look at you funny because of the man you dated all those years ago, then fuck them. Let them look and judge. It doesn’t matter. What matters is your happiness.”
I smile to myself as I think of what Trent once said. I was in a similar situation to this, minus the murder part, but still. When Rook left, I was worried what people would think about me, and it was Trent who told me it didn’t matter what anyone thought. It only mattered what I thought. And if I were being honest here, I’m a hell of a lot stronger than I was all those years ago. I’ve been through hell and back ten times by now.
Chapter Twelve
Rook
“Are you sure this girl is going to take you in, Rook? You’re taking a major risk here. If she decides to leak your location to the media, you’re done for. We can’t chance another mob forming. As you can tell by now, you’re not the most loved celebrity in Boston,” Josie informs me.
She sure is captain obvious today.
There’s no doubting I’m not celebrity of the year right now, but this storm has to calm eventually. People are going to find out I had nothing to do with Lauren’s death and they’ll forget all about me. Right?
“She wouldn’t tell a soul where I am. And I know she’ll let me stay with her, but you can’t come with me. She isn’t going to want to chance someone seeing me, let alone you and this town car. It will stick out like a sore thumb.”
“So, what? Am I supposed to let you walk in there blind? Jesus Christ, Rook. You make my job impossible at times.”
Josie has no idea who Leigh is, and I plan to keep it that way for as long as I can. Leigh was never the type of woman who wanted attention drawn to her or Max’s. I’m sure it hasn’t changed. And if I have any chance of Leigh letting me stay with her for a while, I can’t draw any attention at all. I have to be careful about this. I have to lie low.
“I’m not walking in blind. Believe me. I know how to get around without anyone noticing me.”
“That’s a lie. Everyone notices you.” She scoffs. “Everyone and their mother will know who you are. How am I supposed to know you didn’t get mobbed if I don’t go with you?”
“I’ll call you when I’m safe. Sound good?” I offer.
With narrowed eyes, she huffs out a breath. “You get ten minutes. I’ll have the car circle around the block, but if I don’t hear from you by the time I get back around, I’m coming in.”
“You’re not a bodyguard, you know that, right? You’re a lawyer. It’s not your responsibility to keep me safe, just out of jail.”
“I don’t give a shit. I’ve known you long enough to be more than your damn lawyer. And honestly, I can take care of myself if a mob ever broke out. I don’t wear nine-inch heels for any old reason.” She laughs.
I flick my gaze down to her feet, and sure enough, she’s got what I call spikes attached to her. Black-and-red high heels never looked more like a weapon. And I’m sure Josie isn’t afraid to use them.
“Fair enough.” I oblige. “Drop me on the next street over. There’s an alley leading to the back of the bar. I’m less likely to get noticed if I go the back way.”
“I don’t like this. It’s one thing to drop you off in front of this place, but now you’re walking through an alley?” Her eyes flash concern with every word she speaks.
It's sweet she cares about my safety. But I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it for long enough now. I know how to sneak around a crowd of people, usually. The run in with the reporters at the police station and hotel were rare occurrences and we should have seen them coming.
Those incidents happened because someone leaked where I'd be. I'm not sure who yet, but I will find out. They may have been able to gather a crowd around me but not now. Because no one knows about Leigh and the bar.
“It’ll be fine. Believe me.”
“You know I hate repeating myself, but you don’t even know if this girl will let you stay with her! Not to mention no one knows her name! You have to give me some details before I let you walk into a possible ambush.” Josie argues.
“She’s not a girl. She’s a woman—someone who I share a long history with.”
I don’t know why, but Josie calling Leigh a “girl” bothers me. And I know for a fact Leigh is anything but a little girl. She grew into a beautiful woman. That much is for sure.
Last time I saw her was after my mother’s funeral, and to say I was taken aback by how gorgeous she’s become would be the understatement of the century. My mouth nearly hit the damn floor in the bar when she turned around.
I was a dick to her then. My mind was so fucked-up. Everything Leigh said the last time I saw her has stuck with me, though. She was right.
I’d been so busy having a career I forgot where I was from for a moment. I called Mom every day, but now when I think about it, a phone call wasn’t enough. I should’ve come home to see her, esp
ecially when I found out how bad it was. I shouldn’t have stayed away to protect them.
“I'll be fine. I promise.” I give Josie a confident nod as our driver pulls over on the side of the road.
“Rook?” she calls out.
I look over, waiting for her to talk.
“Luke’s called me roughly a hundred times, so make sure you touch base with him.”
“What does he want?” I ask, squinting.
To say I’m pissed off at Luke is an understatement. I figured he would’ve been there for me at the station, , but he wasn’t. Some friend he is.
“He said something about training in the last message I listened to.”
I roll my eyes. “Figures. Thanks Josie. I’ll let you know when I’m inside.”
“Ten minutes,” Josie reminds me.
“Got it.”
Before slipping out, I throw my hood up to hide my face.
Please God, don’t let anyone recognize me.
As my boots hit the pavement, the familiar city sounds greet me with open arms. Car horns and the hustle and bustle of people walking on the street are the sounds of home. A home I’ve been missing for ten years.
I walk a few feet down the sidewalk before I see the opening to the alley leading to Max’s. Moving quickly, I duck into its safety and stick close to the brick wall just in case.
The back entrance to the bar comes into view, but there is a young woman sitting on the steps to the apartment above the bar. She’s good-looking, but she looks young as hell as she takes a drag off her cigarette.
I don’t want anyone to see me besides Leigh, and it’s not too late either. I could call Josie and tell her to swing the car back around the block. Then no one would know I was here—the girl smoking her cigarette, Leigh, Trent.
“Excuse me? Can I help you?” the girl asks as I turn my back.