Like You

by Rachel Leigh

  I squeeze the rope tight enough to cut off his air supply and knock him out momentarily. I’m the wife of a Mafia god, I’ve learned a thing or two. Once his eyes roll back, and I’m sure he’s not faking it, I have thirty to sixty seconds, before he comes to. I grab his gun quickly and stick it underneath the pillow, before pulling his switch knife from his pocket and pushing him off me. His body falls to the floor with a thud. I lean forward onto my knees and cut my legs free.

  I could run like hell, but I’d leave empty handed.

  His eyes start to flutter open, and he begins to squirm.

  I need more time.

  I grab the rope quickly and begin tying his hands, but he gains enough strength to put up a fight. With only one option left, I grab the gun by my side and hit him forcefully in the head, which only pisses him off further.

  Clicking the safety off of the semi-automatic pistol, I push the cylinder up and stand back, firing a shot straight to his shoulder.

  He cries in agony, covering his wound with his free hand.

  I hold the gun out in front of me, pointed at him, while I pick up the broken phone. I hold down the power button with my thumb, hoping like hell that it still works.

  “Yes!” I beam with excitement, when the color comes on the screen.

  “You’re fucking crazy.” Malcolm groans from his fetal position on the floor.

  “Remember that the next time you try and pick up a stray girl at an art studio.” I give him a kick to his ribs. “This isn’t like you, Malcolm. You’ve never been the sit back and watch type of guy. Getting soft are we?”

  “The only time I’m soft is when I wake up next to you.” He chokes out, as he babies his gunshot wound.

  “Nah, that just means that you missed your daily dose of Viagra. I’d tell you to get yourself a pill counter, but you won’t be needing that where you’re going. You’ve always been more of a taker than a giver.”

  The gun dangles from my hand, as I pull up Anderson’s number in the text messages.

  Me: Robin

  I don’t hit send. Not yet.

  I hit record.

  “Unless you want a matching hole in your other arm, you are going to answer every question I ask you.”

  “I’d let you kill me, before I give you any information.”

  “You sure about that?” I fire a shot in the air. Hoping like hell that this thing is fully loaded. He attempts to get up, but I kick him back down. Setting the phone down, while it continues to record, I grab the rope and attempt to tie his arms again. When he fights it, I press my thumb against the hole in his arm.

  “Fuck,” he bellows, “You bitch!”

  “What happened to Ezra?”

  “You already know the answer to that, Sweetness.” There is no remorse in his tone.

  I’ve suspected all along that he killed Ezra. He went missing the day we planned to flee together. His body was found at the bottom of Bluff Cove three weeks later. It was ruled as an accidental fall.

  “Did you do it?” I pause, “Of course, you didn’t,” I answer my own question. He has men who do that business for him.

  My heart breaks, thinking about what Ezra must have felt in those final minutes.

  “Who beat Knox up?”

  When he doesn’t answer, I dig my thumb in deeper. “Who beat Knox up?” I repeat the question.

  “Leo’s son.” He gives up and remains still.

  “Leo, as in, Zeke Jones?”

  He goes silent again.

  “I will stick my entire hand inside of your arm if you do not answer the question.”

  “Yes, Leo is Zeke. Robby is Leo’s son.”

  “And, you made a partnership with the owner just to stage this fight so that Knox would get hurt?” I leave out Axel’s name. I’ll let his family deal with that one.

  He nods.

  “Ok. that’s a yes.” I get myself comfortable with my legs straddled over him, gun in one hand and the other painting red, as I dig into his open flesh. It’s pretty disgusting, actually.

  “So, you admit that you used the alias, Nick Rooney, to get into a contractual agreement with the owner of the fight club in Redwood? A club where underage fighters gambled over the wins and losses of illegal fighters?”

  “You’re wasting your time, Sweetness,” he laughs, “your recording will do you no good. That voice could be anyone. Good luck using that in your little case you think you’re building.”

  “Just answer the damn questions.”

  “Yes, I admit it. And, my name is Jim Bob.” He waves his head back and forth against the hard floor. “You hear that, I’m not Malcolm, I’m Jim Bob,” he shouts in hysterics.

  “What is the password to your safe?”

  There it is. There’s that fear I’ve been searching for. His body freezes and his about pop out in my lap. I’ve been waiting a very long time for that reaction.

  “Not a chance in hell.”

  I press my thumb so hard into his shoulder that, for a moment, I think I feel his bone against my nail, then I realize it’s probably the bullet.

  “Ahhhh,” he screams, in complete and utter pain.

  I don’t stop. I keep digging until he talks.

  When he doesn’t, I add my index finger into the wound, using the two to spread open the hole. I turn my head away when I begin to gag profusely, but it doesn’t stop me. “Now,” I say, “And if you lie and give me the wrong number, I’ll stick my dildo in that closet so far into your arm that you’ll need to pull it out of your throat.”

  His skin begins to turn a very pale white.

  “Nine-three,” he chokes out, “nineteen-nine-zero-nine.”

  I pull my bloodied hand back and wipe it across the blanket on the floor then reach over and hit send on the phone.

  Sending the text message and the voice message at the same time.

  I push myself off of him, as he lingers in and out of consciousness.

  “Sarai mio per sempre,” he groans, before his eyes close, and he’s unconscious, from the shock his body is in.

  I grab the rope and finally get him tied up. Grabbing his feet, I drag him down the hallway, where I can keep an eye on him, while I attempt to get the safe open myself.

  It’s almost over.

  It’s finally coming to an end.

  32

  Knox

  “You told me an hour, two hours ago.” I tap my fingers on the bedside table that sits in front of me. A full plate of food that I can’t eat because my nerves are shot.

  “This stuff takes time. They wanted to look her over at the hospital, just to make sure she’s okay. It’s protocol, man.”

  “She is okay, though?” I raise my eyebrows. “You said he didn’t hurt her.”

  Axel lifts his head up from his phone. “She’s fine.” Then he returns to it, again.

  “And this Malcolm guy, he’s been arrested right?”

  “Yep, along with Mr. Jones. The bastards can rot away in a prison cell and leave all of us alone now. I still can’t believe Mom married that douchebag.” His eyes stay fixated on his phone.

  “What is so important on there?”

  A few more clicks with his finger, and he finally stuffs it in his pocket. “Oh nothing, just reading my acceptance letter to UCLA to make sure they still want my ass.”

  “Seriously?” My eyes shoot wide open. “I thought you said you had no plans for college.”

  “Things change. Besides, my club here is dead, and I have nothing holding me back.”

  “About that, I’m sorry. I know how much that place meant to you.”

  “Eh, shit happens. I’m just glad that the lawyer my dad talked to said the charges against me would be thrown out. I was a minor at the time, and I was manipulated by America’s most wanted psycho.”

  “I can’t say I’m disappointed. I know you loved that stuff, but it would have never ended well.”

  “Who said it ended? His club is dead, as in the one Malcolm bought. Mine is very much alive. Just
not here in Redwood. In fact, things are coming together as we speak.” He drops down into the chair and locks his hands behind his head, “UCLA is going to be a fucking blast.”

  “Good god, Axel. What have you done?”

  “Just making sure we have a hell of a freshman year. School by day, fight by night.”

  I expel a very drawn out breath and close my eyes, when the door swings open. I open them quickly and feel a sudden rush of contentment when I see her rushing to my side.

  “Are you okay?” I grab her face and pull it close to mine, looking her over for bumps, cuts, and bruises. “Your arms.” I take them in my hand and cringe at the tattooed rope burns and a few deep scratches.

  “I’m ok. This is nothing.” She strokes my head, taking in the bandages on my cheek and forehead, as well as the shaved spot on top, where the biggest gash was stapled shut.

  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Axel turns to leave.

  “Wait.” Claire stops him. She stands up and walks to where he stands. “I know we didn’t get off on the best foot, but I want to thank you for everything you did for me.” She pulls him in for a hug. His eyes shoot at me over her shoulder, and he does that stupid eyebrow waggle again.

  I press my lips into a thin line and shake my head, even though I know he’s just messing with me.

  Once he leaves, she comes back over to the bed.

  “We have a lot to talk about,” I say, “but first, this.” I pull her in for a kiss. Her mouth presses gently to mine. My hand cups her chin, as our tongues curl together. It’s the most passionate and real kiss I’ve ever experienced—one that I feel in my core.

  She pulls away. “We have plenty of time for that. First, I owe you an apology. I lied about so much, but you need to know that it was never to hurt you.”

  “You don’t have to apologize. Just please tell me that a divorce is in the works. I already have to tell my mom that I fell for my teacher. If I have to tell her that I fell for my married teacher, she’d disown me.”

  “You’ve fallen for me?” Her lips curl up bashfully.

  “I think I have.”

  “Well, you better move over, because I’m falling, too.” She pulls my arm out and tucks herself under it, taking care not to bump any injuries.

  “So tell me about this guy. What the hell is his deal?”

  She takes a deep breath before speaking, “Malcolm Rossi sold women for a living, and for some reason, he wanted to keep me. I was eighteen years old when he sought me out and he fed me from the palm of his hand. Once he had me where he wanted me, he tried to pimp me out.”

  My heart feels as if it’s caught fire in my chest. Axel never told me this part. My mind says don’t judge and listen, but my heart says how could she? “Tried?”

  “I never slept with any of them. It wasn’t for lack of trying on their part. I just couldn’t ever bring myself to do it.” She lifts her head and her face mirrors mine. “I don’t blame you if you feel like we can’t move past this, because there is more.”

  “Everyone has a past, babe. All I care about is the right now.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  “During one of those calls, things got out of hand. The guy wouldn’t take no for an answer. He became violent, called me a tease and attempted to rape me.”

  She stops talking for a second, and I can tell that this is very hard for her to say out loud.

  “You don’t have to tell me anymore.” I press my hand to her cheek, feeling a tear roll over it.

  “I killed him, Knox.” Her eyes close, and the tears overflow. “And I’m not sad because I took his life. I’m sad because he took mine.”

  I pull her down into me, bearing the pain in my rib cage, pain that is minuscule compared to what this girl has been through.

  “Shh,” I try to calm her, as she cries into me.

  “After that night, Malcolm convinced me to marry him.” She chokes out the words. “He said that it was the only way he could protect me, and I believed him. I continued to watch him send these girls out with strangers and return with nothing but shattered dreams and expensive gifts. And I did nothing to stop him. I let him control every part of my life because he said that he knew what was best for me.”

  “It’s over now.” I run my fingers through her hair with my hand curled around her head. “Now, it’s my turn to protect you. I can’t promise you expensive things, but I can promise you that you will never have to feel what you’ve felt these last five years, ever again.”

  We lie there for hours talking. Claire tells me about the cartel and how many of the girls came and went to different members who ran the same businesses as Malcolm did. Not only did he sell women, he sold cold hard drugs, and his ass will be sitting in prison for the rest of his life if those charges stick.

  We agree it’s time to try and move on from this. She’s still young, and she has a bright future ahead of her. I’m just happy that I get to be a part of it.

  Now I just have to tell Mom.

  33

  One Month Later

  Knox

  The white vinyl chairs are lined up perfectly, again. Floral arrangements are positioned at the end of each row. All of my favorite people are in attendance. Axel is standing at the end of the last row with a sneer on his face, as he glares at Harper, who is talking it up with a friend of Jasper’s. I wish he’d just let go of his anger toward her and confess his undying love.

  Kip and Taya are hand in hand, and it warms my heart that he’s found someone.

  Claire is sitting in the front row sandwiched between Gram and Blakely, looking as stunning as ever. Every couple minutes, Gram says something that makes her smile, then gives her a pat on her leg. Each time she looks at me with a sheepish grin, and I know that Gram is telling stories from my childhood.

  Everyone stands when the music begins. Mom and Gramps make their way down the aisle, and while all eyes are on the bride, looking as happy as ever, I can’t take my eyes off of Claire. Of course, Jasper gives me a nice nudge, forcing me to refocus my attention on the ceremony, but all I can think about is our first dance tonight.

  I skipped out on prom due to my injuries and spent the night watching old chick flicks with Claire. She said that she hasn’t watched movies in years, so I promised her we’d make up for lost time. In return, she promised me a dance to make up for missing my senior prom—tonight, she pays up.

  The vows are shared, and are very touching, just as I anticipated. Mom and Isaac are straight out of a romance novel. They are getting their happy ever after that they both deserve. After the ring exchange, they are announced husband and wife, then the pastor invites everyone to stay for the reception.

  The bridal party leaves the ceremony area first and we gather around for pictures. I give Claire a week as I walk back up the white runner laid out on the grass.

  We reach the front of the house where the photographer plans to take the pics and mom pulls me aside.

  I speak first, “You look beautiful, Mom.” I kiss the side of her cheek.

  “You don’t look too shabby yourself. I’ve always loved these button up shirts on you.” She tugs at the sky blue collar. “Thank you for being a part of this special day.”

  “Wouldn’t be anywhere else. Well, except for the hospital, like the canceled wedding date.” I joke, though it’s not exactly funny.

  “Not funny.” She reads my thoughts, “and don’t you ever do that to me again. You know I don’t condone those fight rings.”

  My shoulders slump and I sigh, “Yes, Mom. “We’ve been over this a thousand times. I will never plan a fight again.”

  “She’s here.” Her tone shifts and she nods to the backyard.

  “Claire?” I question, but I know exactly who she is talking about. “Yeah, she is. How do you feel about that?”

  Mom goes quiet for a minute and looks as if she’s fighting back tears, she swallows hard and places both hands on my shoulders, “Knox, I wouldn’t have invited her the second time if I d
idn’t want her here. I don’t approve of the way your relationship started, but I’m taking it day by day. I see the way you look at her. Just be careful. Her past may not be as far away as you think.”

  I pull her in for a hug, “I will, mom. Thank you.”

  I loosen my tie, as I walk toward her. The sunset paints the sky fire orange and the white lights around the canopy are lit up. I look over to the DJ in the corner and give him a thumbs up. As soon as “You and Me” by Lifehouse begins playing through the speakers, I lean in. My head on her shoulder, as my face brushes against hers.

  “Can I have this dance?” I say into her ear, interrupting her conversation with Blakely.

  She spins around quickly with a smile plastered on her face. Her strawberry blonde hair is framed perfectly around her beautiful face, and her mint green floor length dress matches her bright eyes.

  “A promise is a promise.” She places her hand in mine.

  Dinner is finished, the bridal party dances are done, and the cake has been cut. All of the guests are holding conversations of their own and going about their business.

  Claire and I are the only ones on the dance floor, and as far as I’m concerned, we’re the only ones in existence. Her arms hang loosely around my neck, as I hold tightly to her waist. Our bodies touch, but our souls connect. It’s like her heart talks to mine, and as long as she’s there, every part of me feels at ease, knowing that whatever life throws at us, we will be ok. I don’t worry about losing her anymore. I’m confident in what we have, and I know that it’s not just a crush, it's so much more.

  Her head rests on my shoulder, as we sway to the music. Feeling the words hit deep, as if this song was made just for us. “I love you,” I whisper, loud enough for her to hear me.

  She lifts her head quickly, a surprised expression on her face that quickly turns to adoration. “I love you, too, Knox.”

  Our mouths collide, and I don’t give a damn who’s watching.

  I spin her around and watch her body move with the music, then pull her back in.