“I’m not going to hurt you, sweetheart.” His voice was deep. “I found you floating in the water and gave you mouth-to-mouth.”
He froze when he saw her, his thick lips parting at the same time hers did. Veda’s eyes traveled his face, lingering on the deep scar that sliced his left eyebrow in half.
He only managed to get the pads of his gentle fingers on her cheek before Veda screamed with all her might, throwing her arm and dragging her nails across his face. His head fell at the blow, and he brought the gentle touch he’d just laid on her cheek to his eyebrow. When he came away with his own blood staining his fingers, his eyes reclaimed hers.
Veda’s chest heaved as his hooded eyes drank her in. After a moment of hesitation, he resumed moving to the door, craning his neck to hold her eyes.
His side-eye game was still strong. Veda remembered that side-eye like it was yesterday.
His eyes remained unsmiling, nostrils slightly upturned. They flared. In conjunction with the scar on his eyebrow, he looked downright angry, dangerous—like a lion that was constantly ready to pounce.
Veda squared her shoulders and waited for that pounce.
Instead, he raised that marred eyebrow at her, curled his lip, and turned away, disappearing around the corner and into the hallway.
Veda sputtered and then broke into a run.
“Hey!” she cried, racing up behind him and taking his arm.
He stopped in the middle of the busy hallway but didn’t face her, looking down at the hand she’d clapped on his arm. Then he looked over his shoulder. His heated eyes claimed hers. That eyebrow rose again.
Veda swallowed, tightening her fingers around his bicep—which was, amazingly, about ten times harder than it looked. She lifted her eyes up, forced to crane her neck just to meet his gaze.
She looked down and saw the same tent in his navy pants that she’d seen in theirs.
He showed her his palms. “I’m a police officer. I would never hurt you. You can trust me.”
“Hey,” she whispered, her voice lower, nudging his arm.
He faced her, and she gave him a moment to study her. She waited for him to see her with the same ferocity she’d just seen him. She waited for the recognition.
He raised both eyebrows that time, giving her a gentle shake of his head, as if waiting for her to get on with it.
She pushed a hand into the pocket of her scrubs, tightening her fingers around the bronze chip inside.
He shook the chip. “This is my mother’s. It’s a one year sober chip she got from AA. Whenever I’m scared, I just hold it in my hand, real tight, like this.” He gripped the chip, hiding it in his big palm. “And it reminds me that… that everything’s going to be okay.”
“I saw them,” Veda croaked, barely able to remember the English language inside her wild mind. She took the chip out of her pocket and hid it in a fist as she motioned to the hospital room behind her. “I saw Sarah leaving the party with Todd Lockwood last night.”
His eyebrows remained raised.
Veda raised hers too. “Well, you can’t just leave. I’m telling you that I saw her. I saw her get into a car with him, drunk out of her mind. And that black eye she has today was not there last night. I have no doubt he put something in her drink. He raped her.” Veda’s voice hitched. “Get back in there and do something about this. Don’t just let her run from this.”
Veda leapt to her feet and raced away. Her legs shook and made her stumble a few times, but when she imagined him coming after her, chasing her in the sand, how easy it would be for him to catch her, outrun her, hurt her the way they had, the race of adrenaline—of blind fear—forced her to find her footing. She didn’t stop running until she’d made it all the way home.
“You can’t let her run away from this!” Veda cried, her voice trembling. “Even more importantly, you can’t let Todd Lockwood get away with this.”
His green orbs stormy, he lifted that scarred eyebrow again, turned his back, and walked away.
Veda watched him go, stunned. When he disappeared around another corner, she snapped out of it and raced after him.
“Hey!” she cried, catching the attention of everyone around her but him.
By the time she caught sight of him again, he’d already made it to the lobby of the hospital, throwing open one of the glass doors with such force it was a wonder it didn’t shatter. Passersby stopped everything they were doing to watch him disappear outside.
“Don’t even think about it,” a voice whispered in Veda’s ear.
Veda jolted, not realizing she’d been staring at those glass doors for over a minute. Turning her head, she locked eyes with Coco.
Coco smirked knowingly. “You’d better put those googly eyes away right now.”
“My eyes are the farthest thing from googly.”
“Every woman in this hospital is in love with Linc,” Coco said, nodding to the doors he’d just disappeared out of. “They’d amputate an arm to get a shot at him.”
Veda looked back to the doors too, heart thundering. She’d given him many names over the years, but none as perfect as that one. “Linc?”
“Detective Lincoln Hill, Special Victims Unit. He’s here all the time, but he’s off the market.”
Veda collected herself, attempting composure. “I know he’s off the market. I saw the ring on his finger.”
“Oh, he’s not off the market because he’s married.”
Veda shot her a curious look.
Coco lowered her voice to a whisper. “His wife went missing five years ago. The case has been closed forever, but he still wears his wedding band. Hasn’t been seen with another woman since she disappeared. I guess he feels like he’d be cheating on her, even though she’s obviously….” Coco didn’t finish. “He’s obsessed with finding her.”
“That’s awful.” Veda frowned toward the doors.
“Eyes still googly.”
Veda threw her a look. “Are not.”
“Don’t worry. He has that effect on everyone. Just don’t be offended if he never gives you the time of day.” Coco laughed, nudging her. “So you’re coming, right? To Dante’s tonight?”
Veda moved her eyes back to the doors. If neither Sarah nor Linc would do what it took to take down Todd Lockwood, then Veda was happy to take matters into her own hands.
“I’ll be there,” she said, her heart hungry for blood.
3
Detective Lincoln Hill entered the Shadow Rock Police Station later that afternoon. The precinct was nestled at the bottom of The Hill, serving as a barrier between the slums and the more affluent homes on the island. It was always funny to him how he could go one block to the left or right and be in two completely different worlds.
Dozens of desks lined the first floor of the precinct, each stacked with police files that always got taller, never shorter. Behind a few desks, detectives barked into phones or filled out the paperwork that seemed never-ending.
Linc stopped at his desk and locked eyes with his partner, Harriet Wells, who sat at the desk across from his. Harriet was an older woman, a Latina who took no shit, and the only soul in that precinct Linc was afraid of.
Funnily enough, she was the only person there who never tried to intimidate him.
They locked eyes and Harriet showed him a photograph of a naked girl, facedown in her own blood on a concrete floor, with crime scene tape surrounding her. “Meth house at the top of The Hill. She went out shooting.”
“They always do.”
“Word of warning.” She lowered her voice. “Cap got wind of you grabbing a girl’s arm today. He’s not happy.”
“What else is new?” Linc frowned, snatched up his car keys, and winked at her. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
“You’d do the same for me. Get gone.”
Just as Linc was moving toward the precinct doors, on a much quicker foot than he usually bothered, a deep voice screamed his name from the second story.
“Detective Hill. My office
.”
Linc stopped in his tracks. “Fuck.” Staring out the glass doors, he could see his car from there, parked less than a hundred feet away. He could pretend he hadn’t heard his name and make a run for it.
The captain’s voice rose. “Lincoln! In my office. Now.”
Linc bit his bottom lip the entire way up the stairs, feeling the eyes of his fellow employees following his every move until he was closing the door to the captain’s office behind him. With a deep breath, he faced him and leaned against the door.
Captain Leonard Fox crossed his arms from behind his desk. His jet-black hair was gelled back, displaying his aging, pock-marked face and serious brown eyes. His thin lips pulled into a hard line, making him look even older.
“I didn’t grab that girl violently, all right?” Linc said. “I took her arm in a moment of frustration, but I didn’t hurt her.”
“Her father had a different story to tell when he called me this morning. Her father, Sydney Adams? Steel magnate with enough money and power to put us both out of a job, if he chose?”
Linc looked away, his lips going tight.
Leonard pressed his fingers on the desk, dropping his head. “You swore to me you wouldn’t make me do it.”
Linc held his hands out at his sides. “So don’t do it.”
Leonard continued as if he hadn’t heard him, shaking his head while still keeping it down. “You swore to me… but nothing’s changed, Linc. You’re becoming a liability. It’s easier to sweep under the rug when you’re manhandling thugs and criminals, but the daughters of prominent business tycoons? Jesus, who’s next? Are you going to choke out Celeste Blackwater too? Maybe catch a flight to DC and show Sasha Obama who’s boss?”
Linc avoided his eyes, running his hand down his shadowed jaw. It tightened as his gaze shot back to Leonard. “That girl was raped by Todd Lockwood.”
Leonard groaned and fell into his desk chair, hiding his head in his hands.
Lincoln charged on. “But, as always, he found a way to shut her up. Scare her silent. There’s something off with that whole crew, Leo, and you know it. The Blackwaters. The Lockwoods. Why is it that ninety percent of the women who’ve been brutalized on this island experienced that brutality at an event hosted by one of those families?”
Leonard lifted his head, set his elbows on his desk, and brought his fisted hands to his mouth. Then he let his eyes flutter shut. “I’m putting you on administrative leave.”
“Leo….”
“Four weeks, with pay. And I had to fight to get you that.” He pointed at Linc. “You’ll be welcome back to this precinct pending approval from an anger management counselor.”
“You gotta be fucking with me.”
“I’m between a rock and a hard place here, Linc. People are talking. Asking questions. I can’t give you special treatment anymore. I understand that you’re struggling. I understand….” Leo sighed.
Linc licked his teeth.
Leo let a moment of silence pass. “I miss her too.”
Linc cringed. His jaw tightened again. He looked away when the burn in his eyes intensified.
Leonard’s voice softened. “I miss Lisa… all the time. But the excessive violence, the aggressive behavior, the intimidation? It’s gotta stop. You’ve gotta start learning how to… how to let her go, or you’re going to crash and burn.”
Linc licked his lips, cutting his eyes at Leo.
Leo held strong. “Take a month. Speak to the counselor. Your job will be here for you when you get back, but my hands are tied on this one.”
Without another word, Linc turned and snatched open the door of the office, slamming it shut behind him.
—
It had been a long time since Veda had dressed up for a night out. Not because she didn’t want to, but because it wasn’t humanly possible. Too busy with undergrad and med school to enjoy a real social life, the first time she’d put on a dress in years was the night she’d crashed Gage Lockwood’s engagement party. Tonight, she’d donned her second dress in under a week, a navy blue polka-dot maxi, for Todd Lockwood’s birthday party at Dante’s Bar and Grill.
Murder must’ve really brought it out in her.
Admiring herself in the mirror, she tucked her fingers into the halter neckline of her dress and came up with a tiny vial of clear liquid.
She brought the vial to eye level and tilted it back and forth, watching the clear fluid bob and weave in the small container.
To think, one drop of this liquid, smaller than the tip of her fingernail.
Potent enough to bring ten men to their knees.
With one drop, she could finish what she came for.
She could finish them all.
Veda believed in the power of patience. Delayed gratification. She’d chosen this particular drug, not just because it was impossible to detect on a tox screen, but because it was slow-moving. She wanted the slow, spine-bending release—the toe-curling finale. She wanted the kind of exquisite pinnacle only bestowed on those willing to play the long game. She wanted to see the look in each of their eyes, individually, when they realized she’d taken from them what they’d taken from her. She wanted to see the light leave each of their eyes the same way hers had: so deviously slow and steady, they wouldn’t even realize they were doomed until it was far too late.
So tonight, that tiny vial she’d stolen from the hospital—that tiny vial strong enough to kill ten men—had only one name on it.
And that name was Todd Lockwood.
—
The view from the second floor of Dante’s Bar took Veda’s breath away. Straight ahead, rows of boats lined the turquoise waters of the Shadow Rock marina, so clear she could see all the way to the dewy rocks and seaweed at the bottom. To her right was the hill she’d grown up on, still as saturated with homes of every hue, alight with the music of culture and creativity that could only come to life on the backs of enormous poverty. Fog rolled down from the top of the hill, making some of the houses vanish. To her left, the new country club, where billionaires putted the evening away on the expansive green, either unconcerned or unaware of the deterioration on the hill less than two blocks away.
A Blackwater Cruises ship, scheduled to set sail that evening, floated at the end of a long concrete dock in the faraway distance. It was Shadow Rock’s peak cruising season, so the hundreds of visitors milling about would be gone come summer’s end, returning the island to its original quiet, ‘peaceful’ glory until the next year rolled around.
Nothing had changed in Shadow Rock. Still a humble island, just small enough that the tourists made it feel crowded, but just big enough that the rich and the poor could pretend the other didn’t exist.
The white stick between her lips moved in a slow circle as she rolled the strawberry lollipop under her tongue, breathing in the scent of seaweed as she leaned on the glass railing of the bar’s upper deck, slippery from the ocean mist and humidity. Her maxi dress flowed around her calves, the long split exposing her leg. Most of the bar’s guests were gathered downstairs awaiting the man of the hour. Veda knew it was only a matter of time before they filled the white tables and chairs of the upper deck, lounging under the red umbrellas, but for now, it was just her.
She liked it that way.
She liked being alone with her own thoughts, with only the demons in her mind to keep her company. They never failed to remind her of the reason she was there.
She let the vial in her hand roll around, swallowing as she watched a new luxury vehicle breeze into the parking lot below every minute, most of them taking up more than one space in an attempt to protect their precious cars. Her stomach roiled at the thought of interacting with those miserable people, but as she waited for Todd Lockwood to pull up in his Aston Martin, she knew it would be worth it.
Quick and easy. In and out. One tap of that vial into his drink when he wasn’t looking, and her mission would be complete. How divine it would be, taking him out in the same way he had her. Watching him
choke his drink down with wild abandon, having no idea the danger rolling down his throat. He’d changed her life irreparably when he’d spiked her drink at eighteen, and now there she was, ready to bestow on him the very same fate.
One swallow would be all it took. One swallow, and Todd would continue enjoying his last birthday on Earth, probably being a complete asshole in the process, as the poison executed a slow, hostile takeover on his immune system. He wouldn’t actually keel over until much later in the night, long after he’d arrived back home. Probably in the midst of stealing the soul of his next victim—whatever woman was foolish enough to go home with him.
By morning, he’d be dead.
Then she’d be on to number two.
A smile was just sparking to life on her face when a voice came from behind her.
“Well hello, party crasher.”
Veda’s eyes fluttered shut at the deep, familiar voice. She removed the sucker from her mouth and tried to ignore the butterflies, the tightening of her fingers around the vial in her other hand, and the instant ache that zoomed over every inch of her body. For so long she’d grown used to feeling nothing at all that whatever she felt when she was in the presence of this man—and she had no idea what it was—sent her roaring with an anxiety she didn’t know how to handle. She kept her eyes closed even as his familiar scent, that maddening cologne he’d been wearing the night before, came in close. Too close. Inches away. He didn’t touch her but, somehow, she felt him.
She shook her curls out of her face and didn’t even turn her head.
“That was very rude of you,” she said. “Allowing me to make a fool of myself like that.” Don’t look, her mind screamed. But in the next instant, she’d turned her head, met Gage Blackwater’s eyes, and inhaled sharply.
Wearing a fitted black T-shirt and dark gray slacks, leaning one elbow on the railing, he motioned to himself with his eyebrows raised high. He fought the smile on his face, but it showed in his eyes.
“So it’s my fault that you crashed my engagement party?” Deep lines crinkled next to his eyes when he smiled, but it didn’t make him look old. It made his face gleam—a luminosity that put the sun to shame. “Is it also my fault that you lied to my face about crashing my engagement party?”
Quiver (Revenge Book 1) Page 4