by Scott, S. L.
“You were so angry when I showed up. You said you were caught off guard, but something between then and now changed.”
“When I was dropped off at my car, all my will to survive drained away. I realized it wouldn’t matter if he killed me or not. Either way, I lost you.” Her fingers run through my hair, soothing my head. “All it took was you showing back up to make me realize I was never going to be whole without you. So you see? You’re not just my next step, Rivers. You’re the only step worth taking.”
37
Rivers
“You’ll be mic’d the whole time.” Brian points at an open file on the table. “It will have a wire that will run from between your breasts—”
A warning growl rumbles through my chest, causing him to sit back in his chair. I’m tempted to give him a matching shiner to the one he’s sporting today.
After clearing his throat, he continues, “To a small pack under the waist of your pants.”
When he glances at me, I put a stop to this insanity. “You’re not doing this, Stella. No way.”
“I have to.”
“If he was doing his job, you wouldn’t have to.” Leaning forward, I ask, “This is all conveniently putting the focus on one monster, but what happened to the report she filed against you?”
Suthers steps up to the desk and leans his palms down a short distance in front of me. “Listen to me, Crow. We don’t have to answer to you. That you’re even sitting here is by the grace of Detective Teller’s mercy. So you should be a little more grateful.”
“Picture this.” Verifying he’s wearing a ring, I look down at his hand. Yup, a scratched gold band too dull to shine is squeezing his sausage finger. “Your wife is taking a bath, reading a book while relaxing. Maybe even having a glass of wine after a rough day. She gets out after soaking and wraps a towel around her body while going to return the wine glass to the kitchen. When your wife walks into the living room, she finds an intruder standing there staring at her. What would you advise your wife to do?”
Turning to Teller, I can see the look exchanged—the one where Suthers knows what Brian did was crossing a line and creepy as fuck, even if it was legal through a bullshit lease. Standing up, Suthers says, “He has a rental agreement that gives him the right to enter the premises at any time. Since Ms. Fellowes gave her notice to evacuate the premises by the end of the month, the landlord has a right to take inventory of what needs to be fixed or charged before returning the deposit. Also, to prepare the space for the next renter.”
I slow clap him as he walks to a tall dented gray filing cabinet in the corner. “Textbook memorization. Bravo. But again, imagine if that had been your wife. Would you be defending her or the fucker who broke in to catch her naked?”
Brian stands abruptly. “I was not breaking in to catch her naked. I had no idea she was even home.”
Stella scoffs. “So my car out front gave you no warning before you took your master key and walked inside? Why didn’t you knock? I would have heard it. I was reading. I wasn’t listening to music, and the TV wasn’t on.”
Suthers slams a filing cabinet shut. “Enough. We’re not here to discuss that. Stick to this investigation.”
Standing up, I hold my hand out for Stella. “I think we’re done here.”
She’s hesitant but takes my hand and stands. Holding me in place, she says, “I have a chance to put a monster away for good.”
“Baird?” She nods, so I say, “I’m not convinced one testimony will do anything other than make you a target for revenge.”
Her face goes pale, and she moves closer. Lowering her voice, she says, “I’m not the only one.”
“What are you saying? Have others come forward?”
“No, but it was too planned out. Steps to follow. A routine in place before I got there. Those men had done that before, telling me to shower, not to get my hair wet, wear the robe, and put my shoes back on. Everything had a place—the robe, the hair clip, the perfumed body gel. Me, standing on the X.”
The fucking X. Sick fucks.
“What do you want me to say, Stella? You want my permission? I think it’s bullshit Teller would even put you in this position. Secondly, he’s not a good guy. He’s an asshole hiding behind a badge.” I step closer and lean in to add, “I don’t trust him any more than he trusts me. The difference is he knows I would never put you in danger to get something I want. He’s using . . . no, he’s been using you for over two years now. He’s been undercover and has jack shit on Baird. You fall right into his lap as if . . .” My gaze rises over her head to meet Brian’s. What the . . . No way. Surely, he didn’t seek her out. Fucking hell. I don’t believe it.
“You knew. You set her up. You let her get tangled in this mess to save your ass because you had nothing else on him.”
Stella holds my sides. When I look down, she narrows her eyes, and asks, “What are you talking about?”
“These ‘loan sharks,’ how’d your father first come into contact with them? How’d he find them?”
“I don’t know.”
When I look back at Teller, Stella turns to look over her shoulder. To him, I ask, “Why do I get the feeling you know the answers to these questions?”
Stella’s arms wrap around her waist, and I reach for her when she seems unsteady. Her mouth is open before she asks, “Brian? Please tell me Rivers’s theory is wrong. Please tell me it’s crazy, and he’s grasping at straws.” When Brian looks away from her, I see the first semblance of regret working its way onto his face. He’s about to shatter her world, and there’s nothing I can do to hold her together.
I wrap my arms around her from behind in a bad attempt to keep her together, but her body tenses. The meek girl is gone, and the strong woman emerges. When she steps forward, I let her go, finger pointing until she’s toe to toe with him. “Tell me Rivers is wrong.” Demanding fists hammer down to her sides, and she yells, “Tell me!”
“I can’t—”
The slap comes so fast that none of us saw it coming. Brian’s eyes open, and he turns back to her with a red handprint emblazoned on his face under the black eye I gave him.
Suthers seems so stunned that he’s slow to react but finally does. “You just hit an officer of the law, Ms. Fellowes. I’m going to have to take you into custod—”
“No!” I shout, moving to block his path to her.
“Move aside, Crow, or I’ll throw you back in.”
I’m ready to defend her however I can. If it means going down again in place of her, I will.
Brian’s hands come up, halting Suthers in place. “No. I’m not an officer right now. I’m a friend.”
“What the fuck, Teller? A friend sets up a female he works with and respects to be vulnerable before a monster? A fucking friend does that?” I stand my ground right before her. I see him swallowing heavily, probably trying to come up with some other bullshit comment. If he so much as touches her, I’ll take him down again. I don’t care if I’m fucking arrested. He’ll never so much as touch a flyaway strand of her hair, or he’ll be paying the fucking piper.
With his eyes still on Stella, remorse seeps into his tone. “I’m sorry, Stella.”
“Sorry?” The word is strangled as she struggles with the truth. “You’re sorry?” She takes a step back and lands against me. “I was raped, but before and after that, I was mentally tortured by the thought of what they would do to my little sister. Two days ago, that monster told me not only would his son have my sister as a reward for straight As, but that I would be his extra credit because of my ‘skills’ of being fucked over a desk while two other men watched.”
They want to go after Meadow too? Fuck. This isn’t about me, so I focus inward, remembering how my heart beat strong this morning when she looked down at me with light, life, joy, and possibility in her eyes. She looked at me like I was everything she ever wanted and everything she ever needed.
The sage green of her soul is calming, but the raging, choppy waters of her sea
can be deadly. Her breath is ragged, and she turns to walk around me. Pacing the office of Detective Suthers, she stops, and says to him, “An eighteen-year-old student of mine, taking after his deranged father, grabbed his crotch and told me that his favorite part of the video always makes him blow his load.”
A video? Fury rushes my veins. My heart goes cold, no beats left to be found. Hearing that my everything was treated like she’s nothing destroys what little good I had left. I will destroy him like he tried to destroy Stella. Whatever it takes. All my money, my brothers, The Resistance—every connection I have, I will use to help me take him down for good.
Her voice shakes, and with a barely repressed sob, she says, “Want to know which part? It’s when I look up. He even froze the frame so I could see the pain on my face. That’s the part he gets off to on the regular. What he doesn’t realize is that look in my eyes was death. Death consumed my thoughts as I prayed to be free from my body forever.” She spins and walks toward the door.
Seeming to come back into herself, she puts a hand on her hip. “I survived, but I live with that torment every day of my life. We’re not friends, Brian. And if Rivers is right, I have a feeling you’ve broken a few laws yourself. This is your chance to take me down because once I walk out that door, you are a mortal enemy to me, and I will do everything in my power to bring you down.”
Holding out her wrists as if they’re going to slap handcuffs on her is a nice touch, but we all know it’s not going to happen. He needs her help on this case too much. With my eyes back on Brian, I nod toward Stella. “She pretty much covered everything for me as well. Last chance, Bri. Take us or leave us, but you’ll never be rid of us.”
Suthers sighs, and as if he’s tired of defending the indefensible, he mumbles, “Making a threat against an officer breaks code—”
Teller stops him once again. “It’s fine. She has a right to say that to me.” Holding eye contact with Stella, he adds, “I was your friend even if you don’t believe it.”
“I don’t believe it,” she replies, turning curtly, then she opens the door and walks out.
“That’s too bad, Stella. We could have made things happen together.”
Suthers says, “Detective Teller, I’d advise you to keep this investigation on track by keeping your personal opinions to yourself.”
“I don’t think Detective Teller can hide his bias toward my girlfriend to himself.” I walk to the door.
“Fuck you, Crow.”
My back is still to him, but I’m tempted to flip the bird and leave on that gracious note. I just can’t seem to make my feet move forward. Instead, I find myself turning around. “Ya know, Bri. I was taught to respect my elders, but you’re making it really fucking hard to walk away right now.”
“I’m not your elder, fucking scum. I’m thirty-five.”
“Whoa,” I say, nodding my head. “You have some fucking nerve. You set Stella up and call me the scum?”
Stella tugs at my belt. “He’s not worth your breath, Rivers.”
I’m about to leave but go for one last dig. “Also, I took you for older, you fucking troll.”
This time, when I turn around to leave, Stella not a foot in front of me, Brian calls from the office behind us, “You’re fucking lucky I didn’t press charges.”
“Fuck you.”
“What?” Brian yells when he steps into the corridor. “No please or thank you?”
Stella stops so fast that I run into the back of her. Catching her by the hips, I ask, “What?”
With her back to me, she tilts her head to the side as if she heard wrong. “What did he say?”
“Fucking hell, just bullshit.”
“No, Rivers. Tell me. Tell me exactly what he just said.”
“I don’t know. Um, I’m lucky he didn’t press charges, blah. Blah. Not grateful.”
“No please or thank you?”
“Yeah, that.”
“We have to go. Now.”
38
Stella
I rip the page from last year’s yearbook and toss the book to the back seat. With my hand on the door handle, I stare at the apartment building in front of me. It’s worse than I expected, and I thought my expectations were pretty low. Nothing about this place has meaning to me. Not even the man inside.
Rivers asks, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“I am. But please wait here.”
Running his hand through his hair, he swallows his natural reaction, too controlled when he turns to me. “You’re asking me to let him get away with hurting you. That’s impossible.”
“He doesn’t know what happened to me.”
“He should!” he shouts, hitting the steering wheel.
I reach over and touch his forearm with care before I shift closer, the cup holder and console under my hip. “Kiss me, Rivers.” I set the paper down and touch his chin, encouraging him to turn my way. “Please. Kiss me.”
His gaze finds mine just before our lips caress in a soul-searing kiss. It would be easy to forget this mess and fall into our bubble of love again. But we can’t, and we both know it. Until it’s settled, we will never feel safe. So when we part, I don’t move away quickly. I stay, our lips lingering together before he says, “I’ll stay here.”
I smile, a happy side effect of loving him and feeling how much he loves me. I kiss his cheek before grabbing the paper and getting out of the car.
Knocking twice, I stop and listen to hear if he’s home. I hear his grumbling before I see the peephole go dark and the two locks unbolted. The door swings open, and my father says, “Stella? What are you doing here?” He peeks out the door and looks down the breezeway. “Where’s Meadow?”
“Hi.” I’m suddenly unsure what I should say. “She’s not here, Dad. Just me.”
“Come in. Come in,” he says, shuffling to the side.
I promised Rivers to stay in sight at all times. It was the only way he felt it was safe. “I can’t. Can you come outside to talk?”
“Um. Okay.” He slips on his flip-flops and follows me to the sidewalk in front of the parking lot. “Is that Rivers?”
“Yes.”
His eyes go a bit wide in surprise until he looks back at me with a gentler smile than I remember him having growing up. It’s the kind that’s been beat down more than a few times in life. “I’m glad to see you’re spending time together again.” I glance back at Rivers who nods once. “Tell him I see him on the TV sometimes. He’s become quite popular.”
“Yeah. I’ll tell him.” Turning so we’re standing side by side, I hold the ripped page out for him to take a look. “Dad, do you know him?” I point at the principal’s photo of Brian.
He does. I can tell by his body language that he recognizes him. He’s slow to respond, rubbing his chin as if he’s deep in thought. When he looks at me, he says, “He’s a principal?”
“Yes. He’s my principal.”
Scratching his head, he seems lost on this train of thought, so I ask, “How do you know him?”
“Um. Why do I get the feeling you already know the answer?”
“Because I do. I just need to hear you say it.”
“Don’t go near him. You’re too good to get caught up in his world.”
“Too late, thanks to you.”
Taking a step toward his apartment, he asks, “What does that mean?”
“Tell me how you know him, Dad.”
“Poker down at that club in Sequin. The one where I lost the money.”
“You lost money. I lost everything.”
“I’m sorry, honey.”
“So am I. The only way I can fix this is if I know exactly what happened when you met him.”
Not five minutes later, I climb into the 4Runner and shut the door, making sure to lock it right after. Rivers asks, “What’d he say?”
“It was a friendly game of poker. Small bills for months. Brian had been watching for over a week before he anteed in. Everyone lost their shirts. They wer
e told to be back the next week to try to win their money back, and they were not given a choice. The houses. The cars. Boats. 401ks were thrown in over the next month. He walked away with five men deep in debt to him.”
I stretch my arm to rub the back of his neck as he pulls out of the complex and starts back for the hotel. He reaches over and rubs my thigh. “What are you thinking?”
“I was recruited to Rostinal Academy through the university’s placement office.”
“Recruited or requested?”
“I don’t know. That’s the big question.”
* * *
Besides my sister, I’m most worried about Rivers. Logically, I know he can take care of himself—financially, physical health. But he’s a sensitive soul when it comes to the ones he loves, and he loves me. He would give his life for mine, and I for him.
With my feet kicked up on the coffee table of the living room in Johnny’s suite, I try to pretend I’m not completely freaking out inside. I am. My insides waver between an utter meltdown and surges of anger wanting revenge.
Meadow blends right in with this group of rock stars, even Tommy who has built a fan base of his own from managing living legends and helping others reach the height of fame. I’ve tried to not freak out that I’m in Johnny Outlaw’s hotel room or sitting just a few feet away from one of the most iconic drummers in music today . . . and Tulsa. He’s pretty awesome, too.
Jet’s come over and checked on me, his character deeper than an old soul’s. They’re rock stars. Allies. Friends. Brothers. When something happens to one, it affects them all. I’ve teared up several times over the past twenty-four hours when I see how much Rivers is given. Everyone has come together to be there for him, and he deserves it and more. He extends more kindness than he’ll ever expect in return.