by Jen Davis
She texted Will to be on the safe side. He agreed with her conclusions, but he promised to come over anyway. In the meantime, she needed a distraction. The pictures from Amicalola Falls always made her smile. She mirrored her phone onto the TV and scrolled through them. The warm memories soothed a little of the chill seeping into her bones.
Until a text flashed across the screen. A video?
She tapped the vidbox and brought it full-screen, then pressed play. The video quality was terrible. Someone obviously had shot it on a dark street, the low light making everything grainy. Still, Jonathan was unmistakable as he charged a smaller man in a torn white T-shirt, standing in front of a non-descript building.
The guy dropped to his knees, but Jonathan didn’t slow. He held something black in his hand. A crowbar, maybe.
Her stomach turned as he cracked it over the man’s head.
Jonathan towered over him, then kicked him hard in the midsection. “Get up.” She could barely hear him, but she understood his growl.
The man stayed motionless. Even as Jonathan picked him up by the throat. Even as his face grew mangled by one hit after another…after another. His white T-shirt darkened with blood.
Jonathan slammed the back of the guy’s head into the bricks behind him.
Then the screen cut to another scene. It was Jonathan again, only this time, he was inside someone’s home. The camera watched from outside a window.
This time, the image looked clearer because there were lights on, which only made it worse. There was no sound, but the black guy in the hoodie was shaking his head. His eyes were pleading.
Jonathan backhanded him. Then hit him again and again and again before twisting the man’s arm in an unnatural direction and leaving him in a heap on the floor.
The video cut to another scene, then another. They were all different, but still the same. More violence, more blood. More begging and crying. And more of Jonathan’s relentless fists.
Everything inside her screamed to turn it off, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.
She lifted her thumb to swipe the horrors away when Jonathan’s face filled her screen. Here, he looked different. Younger. His hair was a little longer; it had a bit of wave to it. Here, he wasn’t some punishing machine. He looked relaxed. His eyes were closed, his jaw slack. He lay on a red silk pillow.
The camera panned down to reveal a woman riding him. A dirty blonde with fake boobs way too round and big to be real. They bounced unnaturally with each rise and fall of her body. Jonathan was silent, but the wet sounds coming from the blonde’s movements were deafening.
Her breathing grew shallow as another woman crawled into the frame. The newcomer showed no sign of expression; her bare skin was light brown and her body, long and lean. She straddled Jonathan’s face, then rolled her hips. The blonde leaned toward her, and the women lapped at each other’s tongues.
Was this better or worse than watching Jonathan beat a man to death?
A bald Hispanic man wearing only gold chains and diamond rings joined the three of them on the bed. A man who had to be the boss Jonathan so loathed and feared. Then, she knew the answer to her question.
This was worse. So much worse than she’d ever imagined.
***
Brick
Brick’s heart sank as he watched the horror play over Olivia’s face. He was such a fucking stalker, watching her through the window, hidden in the shadows of some tall bushes, but he couldn’t bring himself to knock on the door.
The mirror on the far wall revealed the nightmare that played on her screen. One of the nights he’d spent in Sucre’s “office.”
He barely remembered the details. In a small mercy, he’d had a lot to drink both before and after. But he remembered the worst of it.
Olivia’s hand covered her mouth, and her shoulders jerked forward. Her face twisted, and tears streamed from her eyes.
Hot shame washed over him. How could he ever face her after this?
It was one thing for her to think she knew the worst of him. It was another for her to see it with her own eyes.
Tires squealing in the parking lot had him crouching deeper into the foliage. Will strode to Liv’s front door and into the apartment without bothering to knock. She turned off the TV, jumping to her feet and falling into his arms.
Even if she had a broken heart, at least she’d be safe.
He shuffled back to his truck, the filth and despair of that night and others like it, threatening to drown him. The ride home passed in a blur.
Once inside, he shed his clothes and shuffled into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and climbed inside. He knew from years of experience, he couldn’t wash any of the memories away. Still, he tried.
As always, the water was lukewarm.
But the tears rolling down his face boiled blistering hot.
***
Liv
Jonathan didn’t call her Saturday night or Sunday. Afraid of who might answer his phone, she didn’t call him either. But she needed to talk to him about what she’d seen. It couldn’t wait another day.
Her stomach still churned over what played out on the video file she received. Not because she’d seen him in bed with someone else or even because it was a man. It was the absence of horror in his face over what he had to endure. The absence of anything, really. It was the dead emptiness in his eyes as he’d followed every command his boss had issued. A blank stare and an obedience without hesitation.
After bearing witness to even a sliver of their dynamic, she had no doubt there was nothing Jonathan wouldn’t do for his boss. The monster’s control over his creation was excruciatingly complete.
But that wasn’t entirely true now, was it?
He was risking everything to be with her, and not only did Sucre have some inkling about it, he was obviously displeased. What kind of punishment would he think of to fit the crime?
Heart in her throat, she drove to the house on Burgundy Street before her first class on Monday morning. She saw no sign of Jonathan’s blue truck. Still, she got out and peeked in the open front door.
Kane stopped working on the kitchen cabinets and ambled her way, his eyes pinched with concern. “Everything okay, sweetheart? Did Brick take a turn for the worse? I got worried when I heard he wouldn’t be in this week.”
All week? Could Sucre have him? “He looked fine when he left me Saturday morning. I mean, he was still sore and swollen, but he was walking around…talking.”
“Was it the last time you heard from him?”
She nodded miserably, debating how much to tell him. “I think his boss tried to call me. Sent me some really nasty videos. I’m really worried.”
Kane grimaced. “If it was really his boss, you should be.”
“I’m afraid to call him. I don’t even know where he lives.” What if he was hurt? What if Sucre was torturing him for information about her? She couldn’t breathe as the possibilities rained down on her.
“The best thing you can do for him is to sit tight.” He touched her shoulder. “I’ll go down to his neighborhood. I’m not sure which apartment is his, but I’ve been to his gym. Let me sniff around. See what I can find out. I promise, I’ll let you know, okay?”
She didn’t like it, but she didn’t have a choice. “Give me your phone, and I’ll put in my number.” Once he handed it over, and she’d saved her contact, she gave it back. “You’ll call me? As soon as you can?”
“I’ll call you. Whether I find him or not.”
***
Brick
The longer Brick took refuge inside his apartment, the more the dingy walls threatened to close in on him. A hundred times, he relived his exchange with Sucre, looking for a way he could have handled it better, but there’d been no way to stomach any intimacy with the girl his boss offered. Anything short of letting her suck his dick—well, the particulars might have changed, but the outcome would have remained the same.
Sucre would have still seen through him, and Olivia
would still know his deepest shame.
He shuffled to the refrigerator and looked inside. The very idea of food made his stomach lurch, but a Budweiser longneck wasn’t out of the question. His hand was an inch away from the closest bottle when a knock sounded at the front door.
The temptation to ignore it overwhelmed him, but if Sucre stood outside, it would be a bad idea to make him wait. He had already met his lifetime quota on bad ideas.
He abandoned the promise of a little alcohol-induced oblivion as the banging grew faster and louder. An apology died on his lips when he caught sight of Kane at the threshold. “What the fuck are you doing here, man?”
“Fine way to greet a friend.” Kane shouldered his way into the room.
He kept the door open behind him. “How did you even find me?” He shook himself. “Doesn’t matter. You need to leave.”
Kane brushed at some imaginary lint on the sleeve of his leather jacket. “Some old bald guy at the gym pointed out the way. Apparently, he thinks I’m doing something to help you get laid.” He dropped the casual façade, his face turning to stone. “And I’m not leaving, so you can hang that shit up right now.”
The guy meant well, but Kane didn’t understand the kind of clusterfuck he was stepping into. Brick dropped his voice to a whisper. “I think my place is bugged, or there are cameras; I don’t know. It’s not safe.”
“Fine. Then take a ride with me. We need to talk. I’m not going without you.”
Growling, he followed Kane to his bike. “No way we’re both going to fit on there.”
Kane climbed on. “Just get behind me, asshole. I’m not trying to be your boyfriend. Let’s go.”
It was a tight squeeze, but he managed to balance on the seat. They drove several blocks to an empty playground with wooden benches. Playground wasn’t the right word. There were two swings and a single basketball hoop. A bent-up old baseball bat lay discarded in the grass.
He strode away from the bike and kicked over one of the heavy benches. “My whole life is fucked.” Bellowing into the open field, he channeled the hate, the shame, the hopelessness into a roar that sent the birds squawking into the cloudy sky.
Sitting on one of the benches still standing upright, Kane waited and watched.
He stomped the overturned bench again, then picked up the old bat and tore into the wood. All the while, he yelled at the top of his lungs. When he had no energy left, he slid to the ground. “He ruined the only good thing I’ve ever had.” It came out ragged. “No. I ruined it…before I ever even met her.”
Kane gave up the bench to sit next to him in the dirt. “I assume you’re talking about your girl. She says you’re not answering her calls.”
“She knows what I am now.” His stare drilled holes into the ground.
“She probably knows who you are better than you do, brother.” Kane sighed. “Tell me the whole story.”
“It was a test.” He laughed brokenly. “Sucre gave me a girl to make me prove I had no one special in my life. He was looking for a clue I had someone he could use against me.”
“And?”
“And I fucking failed. I couldn’t cheat on Olivia. I couldn’t.” He flexed his hands then shook them out. “I told him no, so he played his trump card. He showed her what I am.”
“I still don’t understand.”
“Sucre fucking owns me. He’s owned me for years,” he gritted. “He tells me to kill somebody, I kill them. He tells me to fuck somebody, I fuck ’em.”
“Not this time.”
“No. Not this time, but enough times he has an arsenal to use against me whenever he needs a weapon. I knew he had videos of me on the job. I figured he’d use them to threaten me with the cops if I ever stepped out of line. I figured the videos he took in bed were just another way to break me down.”
Had he really just slipped his worst shame? Did it even matter anymore? No. He laughed darkly. “He says it always pays to have insurance. I guess it paid off for him this time.”
Kane gripped his shoulder. “You have to talk to her.”
“How could she possibly look me in the eye?” He buried his face in his hands. “You don’t know what was on the video she saw.”
Kane squeezed, then let go. “I have a pretty good idea. But as for your girl, I can’t say how it will go once you see her. I do know she’s looking for you, and she’s scared. And for what it’s worth, it sounds to me like you didn’t have much of a choice. About any of it.”
“I don’t think she’s going to see it the same way.”
Kane climbed to his feet and held out his hand. “There’s only one way to find out, brother. Let’s get back on the bike.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Liv
Liv gave up her attempts to marshal her thoughts into lesson plans as a knock came at her door. When she opened it up, Brick stood outside, his expression a blank mask.
“Can I come in?” His voice was stilted, formal.
She ushered him in and led him to the sofa. “I’ve been so worried. I was afraid to call you.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to face you. I’m still not, but here I am.” He didn’t so much as glance at her while he spoke. His gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder.
His dead stare looked so much like the one she’d seen at the beginning—and later—the end of the video. It was like he’d sealed himself off to what was happening; he’d resigned himself to his fate.
“I guess you know I’ve seen the videos.”
He nodded his head.
“You know what was on them?”
“Some of it. I’ve got a pretty good idea about the rest.” His fingers dug into the coarse denim covering his thighs. “I’m sorry I’m not the man you thought I was.” He never turned his gaze from the wall.
It only made the pressure on her lungs intensify. It hurt to breathe. “Look at me,” she whispered. When he ignored her, she spoke in a louder voice. “Look at me.”
“I can’t!” he roared, but his actions betrayed his words. His wide, frantic eyes swung to her face. “How can I look at you when you’ve seen—when you know?” There was so much anguish in his question. The blank expression replaced by something twisted and broken.
She fought the threatening tears. “I already knew what you did for him. The business parts.” Though nothing could have prepared her for seeing it. “You’ve been up front with me about the violence from day one.”
“But not the sex. I never told you I—” His big body shuddered.
She couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
With a deep sigh, Brick drew to his feet, then pushed his shoulders back. “I’ll go.”
No. Everything inside of her cried out in protest. If he walked out the door, he might never come back. “Wait.” She leapt off the sofa and grabbed his arm. Pain gripped her chest. She couldn’t shake the image of him in the bed with those women…and that man.
But he hadn’t wanted it—any sign of pleasure on his face in the video evaporated the moment Sucre touched him. Only the mask remained. He may not have let his misery show, but she had no doubt about what she’d seen. The idea of this breaking him, of it breaking them…
Not going to happen.
She shoved it all down. “Do you want to be with me?” Her voice sounded surprisingly level to her own ears.
He finally looked at her. His eyes were haunted. “More than anything. The worst part is I have no idea what kind of shit he’ll put me through next. I can’t ask you to live with that. I can barely live with it myself.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to give up on this.” Her hand slid down his arm to grip his palm. “I don’t want to give up on us.”
“I’m not worth it,” he whispered. His hopelessness strengthened her resolve.
“You’re wrong. Would you blame me if someone forced me into sex?”
His voice hardened. “It’s not the same.”
She tugged on his hand. “The h
ell it’s not. You don’t need my forgiveness, or my acceptance. You need to forgive yourself. He raped you.”
“Did you see a gun to my head?” he shouted. “I’m bigger. I’m stronger—”
“And he’s controlled you since you were a kid. He. Raped. You.” She stepped toward him, and he stepped back.
“Don’t pity me,” he gritted out.
Slowly, she raised her hand and cupped his jaw. Her insides were flayed open, and her heart, bleeding. How much could one man take?
“It’s not pity. I hurt for your hurt. I want to take it away. I want you to feel how much you mean to me.” Her hand slid behind his neck. “Please don’t give up on us.”
He stared into her eyes for two heartbeats, then swept her into his arms. Crushing her against his chest, he murmured into her hair. “I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you. But if you want me, I’m yours. For as long as you want, however you want, I am yours.”
She was starting to get light-headed when he finally eased his grip.
“I don’t know how we’re going to make this work,” he breathed, “but I swear I’ll do anything I can to find a way.”
He leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on her lips.
Her mouth still tingled as he let himself out the front door.
***
Brick
Brick returned to work the next day, though he had some trouble holding on to his tools. His hands had come a long way since the fight Friday, but they still had some healing left to do. Kane quietly stepped in whenever he struggled.
He tried to call his grandma at lunch, but the nurse gave him the runaround with some bullshit about how the doctor would call him. It would have made him nervous if he hadn’t received a picture of her in her dressing gown taking a bite of what appeared to be oatmeal for breakfast. If he couldn’t get her on the phone, he’d go visit in a few days. As much as he hated those pictures, occasionally they were as much of a blessing as a curse.