Breaking The Silence (Fatally Flawed Book 3) (11 page)

Chapter 27

Izzy

              To my surprise K.J. agrees to take me back to my apartment without any objections. The huge bomb he just dropped on me has my mind spinning with unanswered questions that I’m too afraid to ask. It’s never been a secret that K.J. is not like most people. He is the definition of anti-social and self-preservation, but it never occurred to me that he could be a criminal. On the ride back to my place I’ve spent the time going through several emotions.

              First there was denial. I was certain everything K.J. told me was a joke, and he would soon pull over and we would have a good laugh about this. Then I remembered one crucial fact, K.J. never jokes. So anger decided to rear its ugly head and I spent the rest of the trip imagining my tiny fist beating into his back.

              “Thanks for the ride.” I mutter, handing his helmet back to him. K.J. reaches out, latching onto my wrist, while getting off his bike. Completely invading my space, with his domineering size, he forces me to look him in the eye.

              “You remember what you said last night?” He inquires. I look into his stone black irises, trying not to forget that those are the very eyes that lied to me for years. Shaking the fog from my head, I let the words spill out that I’ve tried desperately to keep in.

              “You’re not who I thought you were. You’ve killed people K.J.” I shout out, no longer able to control my anger. “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU ARE?” The muscles in my body start twitching and shaking from the adrenaline running through my blood. When K.J. moves to place his free hand on my face, I slap it away, while shoving him. The smirk he gives me, only further raises my irritation level. Before my brain can catch up to my emotions, my open palm is soaring through the air, and landing across the left side of his face. K.J.’s face turns from the force of my blow, his eyes no longer gleaming with humor, my red hand print now on full display.

              “Do you feel better?” He calmly asks, with his black irises once again looking into mine. I instinctively take a step back, balling my hands into fists at my side, tears now streaming down my face. He acts as if there is nothing wrong with what he is. He’s a murderer. There is no sugar coating it.

              “No.” I state, “After everything we have been through…” I am suddenly cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.  He takes it out of his jacket pocket, looks at the screen, then places it to his ear.

              “What.” He harshly states.

              After a few seconds of silence. K.J. hangs up the phone. Tucking it safely back into his pocket. “I have some business to take care of. This isn’t over.” He says, trying to close the distance between us. For every step forward he takes I should be taking one back. My mind is screaming at me to avoid his touch, but my heart and body are begging for the contact.

              “There is nothing you could do to get rid of me, Elizabeth.” K.J. declares before bringing his lips down on mine. The kiss is rough and demanding, just like him. One of his hands end up wrapped in my hair, the other is holding my body close to his, while he demonstrates just how much control he has over my body.

              After the kiss, that will forever be etched into my memory, K.J. walks me to my apartment. I didn’t bother looking him in the eye, he has always been good at reading me, and I didn’t want him to get suspicious. The moment I could no longer hear the loud pipes of his bike, I pick up my phone, and call the only person I can think to help me. Even though I’ve avoided his phone calls for weeks, Gunner, picks up on the first ring.

Chapter 28

Izzy

              I lift up my suitcase, thankful that once again Kiersten is not here, and walk out my apartment door. Gunner offered to come help me carry my things down, but I have no way of knowing when K.J. could be back, and I really don’t need him to catch me with Gunner. The guard posted at my door, looks from me to my bags, “I was told you were to stay in your apartment.” He states.

              “Last I checked, this was a free country, and I have the right to leave whenever I want.” I innocently impart this wisdom onto the big, over grown, fool.

              “I’ll just call K.J. and check in with him.”

              “If you so much as dial one single digit on that phone, I will fake call the police, and tell them you tried to have your way with me.” I threaten.

              We get into a stare down, before he finally breaks, “I don’t get payed enough for this shit.” He mutters. I rush out the apartment building. Knowing that as soon as the guard could no longer see me, he called K.J.

              Gunner is there waiting on me, his eyebrows arched, giving me a questioning look as I run toward the car. “Don’t ask. Just know that right now there is a, very dangerous, scary man on his way to stop me from leaving. I’m sorry to put this on you, but I had no one else to turn to.” I rush out.

              “Give me your phone.” He commands. When I don’t offer it up immediately, he holds his hand out, explaining. “This very dangerous and scary man probably has a tracking device in your phone.” I think about this for a few seconds, realizing Gunner is probably right, then slap the phone onto his open palm. He throws it to the ground, stomping his fancy dress shoe down, breaking it in half.

              “Hey that was water proof, and very expensive.” I shout out, reprimanding him.

              “Just get in the car, Izzy.” He hollers over his shoulder while strolling to the driver’s side door. I take one last look at my poor broken phone, holding back tears, thinking of all the tip money I had to save to afford it. Opening the door to his swanky car, I slide into the leather seat, making sure to shoot daggers at him with my eyes.

              “You owe me a phone.”

              “Let’s make a deal.” He declares. “I’ll buy you a new phone as soon as you explain why you’ve been avoiding my calls and texts.” The awkwardness of his statement has me, once again, rambling on to fill the uncomfortable silence.

              “Work has been really crazy and my friends have been really needy. More like one friend. You may remember him. He is the one I told you kissed me the last time we talked. You know the night you stormed out of my apartment. Which I don’t blame you for. What I did was wrong. No matter how good it felt or how bad I wanted it, I should never have done it. I guess what I’m trying to say is, sorry.”

              The entire time I’m suffering from my verbal diarrhea, Gunner, just sits there listening with a straight face. I start to bite my nails. Secretly wanting to slap myself upside the head. Did I really just tell him all that unnecessary information?

              “Sounds like you were having a great time together. Why did you call me?” He asks in an eerie calm voice. I may be oblivious to most things, but the jealousy and hurt radiating off of Gunner leaves no room for confusion.

              Tucking my head into my chest, I tell him the truth, “you’re the only person I know that isn’t afraid of him, and the only one who would help me put some space between us.” His grip tightens on the steering wheel, “Did he hurt you, Izzy?” He asks with a clinched jaw. I Immediately jump to K.J.’s defense, in spite of everything I just found out, “NO..No..He would never hurt me. I am probably the only person who can say that.” I mutter out.

              “Then why are you running?”

              I never answer his question, instead I turn my head, deciding to look out the window. I’m almost certain I’m probably the last person in our group to know exactly what K.J.’s job title is. Knowing how horrible this sounds, but not being able to help it, I am more hurt that he kept me in the dark longer than anyone else. Growing up in the house I did, my mother being the maniac she is, I always thought of my friends as more of a family then my actual one. When I first met Candice I was ecstatic, so much so, I almost scared her off. Living in Florida you are surrounded by a lot of fake people, so Candice was a breath of fresh air.

              Once I was introduced to Jasper, Dalton, and K.J. I was over the moon with happiness. The boy that I had been silently crushing on was now a part of the group I hung out with. He was never the talker, but I could always tell that he was taking in everything that was said. Eventually I got brave enough, and tried to get a reaction out of him. Just when I thought all hope was lost, the Halloween party happened, and he showed me that there was more to his blank stares. Then Candice suddenly left town and I remember thinking I was once again on my own, but K.J. showed up at my house one night demanding I get ready to go hang out at the train tracks. After that night K.J. became my shoulder to lean on, he was my person when Candice was away. So to find out that this deep connection I thought we both felt is one sided, hurts my soul in more ways than I thought possible.

              “Izzy. Hello, are you there?” Gunner asks, grabbing me on the shoulder. The sudden contact makes me jump and let out a squeak of surprise. Turning my head in his direction. The small smile on his face falls as he brings his left hand to my face. With the pad of his thumb he wipes away the tears I hadn’t realized I was shedding.

              “Don’t cry, beautiful. I’ll help you figure everything out.” He breathes out. Taking his hand, I slowly lower it, not comfortable with his touch anymore. Part of me wants to lean into him, remembering what we once had, but my body and heart both agree it’s not his touch they crave.

              “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Gunner. I called you as a friend. Nothing more.”

              “I knew you were going to say that. Just like I also knew K.J. would end up hurting you one day. I just thought it would involve bloodshed.” He mumbles as he gets out of the parked car. I’m taken back by his statements, but have no time to dwell on it when I look up and see the house we will be staying in. I’ve seen Gunner’s apartment, so I am more than curious to find out who’s fancy mansion this is. Opening the door, to the Florida evening air, I walk to the trunk to help Gunner with my bag.

              “You must have friends in high places.” I state. He gives me a curious look, so I nod my head in the direction of the house, and his handsome face lights up with laughter once again.

              “That statement is truer then you think, but this is my house. Well our house for as long as you’re here.” He declares giving me a wink over his retreating shoulder. Closing the trunk, I rush after him, planning on getting answers to all the questions I have.

              “I thought you said you worked in sales? You must be a penny pincher to afford this on a salesman salary.”

              “Let’s just say I have a side job that pays more than enough for me to live comfortably.” The statement has me stopping in my tracks, the idea that I have single handedly bagged two men that live on the wrong side of the law, making me feel sick to my stomach.

              “Are you alright, Izzy?” Gunner asks.

              “Do you work for someone named Lorenzo Alvarez?”

              “Look at me, Izzy.” Gunner demands, now standing in my personal space. “I have never and will never work for a drug lord like Lorenzo Alvarez. Believe it or not, my parents raised me to be a law abiding citizen.” The clarification that he is not an overnight thug helps me breathe a little easier.

              “How did you know Lorenzo Alvarez was a drug lord?”

              He looks taken back by the question before eventually answering, “I saw a story about him on the news about two months back.”

              “Well, Mr. Law Abiding Citizen, will you kindly show me to my room. I would love to unpack and take a shower before I go to bed.” I state. With a slight nod of his head, he gestures for me to follow him, and we continue to make our way into the two story house that could easily fit four of my apartments in it.

Chapter 29

K.J.

              I pull the throttle back, eating up as much asphalt as possible, trying to get to Izzy’s apartment. Deep down I knew it was not the time to leave her alone, but under the circumstances it couldn’t be avoided. Sticks had called to let me know that Anthony has just been spotted in Florida. Looking at the photos, that Sticks was able to get, proves he has come out of hiding. That could only mean one thing, Anthony has a plan. Something bigger than just going after my family.             

              Turning in to the apartment complex I know I’m too late, and she is gone. Scanning the parking lot, around her building, I see nothing but clueless people walking to and from their vehicles. Pulling into my normal spot I retrieve my phone from my jacket pocket and start dialing Stick’s number. Walking toward the building’s entrance, still dialing the number, something on the ground captures my attention. Strolling to the object, that is catching the sun’s rays, I don’t bother completing my call.

              Bending down, with my back to the building, I pick up Izzy’s crushed phone. There is no way she dropped it and someone just happened to run it over. The location of the phone makes that impossible. It looks to me like this was no accident. Putting the pieces of the phone into my jacket pocket. I straighten back up, pissed off that her GPS tracker will now be useless, and it will take longer to find her.

              The walk up to her apartment does nothing to calm the rage that is currently taking residence in the deepest part of my soul. I knew she would take the news about my life worse than the others, but the thought that she would run never occurred to me. Knowing she is out there, where Anthony or Lorenzo could possibly grab her, send a feeling of panic through my system. The childhood I had makes it impossible to feel much of anything but hate and anger, but Izzy changed that. She is a part of me now, and I will not stop until I get her back.

              The guard that I hired to watch Izzy, is not like the ones Jasper hired for everyone else, this is one of my guys. He was one of the best collectors on Lorenzo’s payroll until I offered him this job. Lorenzo was beyond pissed that I snatched away the only reliable person that would go collect the money owed to him, but when it comes to me he knows he needs to choose his battles.

              I don’t bother asking any questions right now, just stare into his eyes, wanting him to realize this could be the last conversation he ever has. His pupils being dilated, shoulders staying slumped, and the sweat on his brows lets me know he’s aware of his fuck up.

              “I swear I tried to stop her. Then she threatened to call the cops and I panicked. They have been trying to make a case on me for working with Lorenzo. They wouldn’t have bat an eyelash if she hollered rape.” He states nervously.

              My only response is to tilt my head, remembering all the times he has beaten people within an inch of their lives over some drug money, thinking he is the biggest pussy I have ever met. He let my woman, all five feet of her, threaten him with fake accusations. This man that is over six foot, linebacker shoulders, and hands the size of baseball mittens.

              “I made it down stairs just in time to see her get in and drive off. I didn’t get a chance to see who was driving but I did see the plates on the car. X63TP2.”

              “What was your job?” I ask in a deathly calm voice.

              He takes a step back, visibly swallowing down his fear, before answering. “To protect and watch Izzy.”

              “When you took the job what did I tell you?”

              “You warned me that I would suffer unimaginable pain if she were to ever get hurt.” He states, “but she isn’t hurt. I will help you find her; I swear on my life I will help you find her.”

              “I only give one warning.” I declare before rushing in, hitting him so hard in the temple he goes down easily. It’s not going to please Izzy if she were to ever find out the horrible things I will do to this mother fucker in her apartment, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

              Grabbing the key out of my pocket, I turn to unlock the door, to find out it’s already open. Standing there in a silk rob, riding up her bare thighs, is Kiersten. I am surprised to see her there, which never happens. I must have been so caught up with my anger towards this asshole, now lying unconscious in the hallway, that I didn’t hear the door open. Kiersten lets her blue eyes graze over the situation in front of her, before getting an evil smirk on her lips. “I’m pretty sure that would be considered assault.” She states.

              I say nothing to her, my mind screaming at me to leave no witnesses, but the fact that she is Izzy’s sister saves her from my usual thinking. Taking a step in her direction, staying as far out of her personal space as possible, I offer up a solution. “You need to forget anything you just saw and find somewhere else to stay.”

              She swings her long blonde hair over her left shoulder before taking the steps needed to be mere inches from me. With her left index finger, she tries to make a trail from my chest to my jeans. “How about I help you get him inside then you fuck my brains out and help me forget everything I just saw.” She says biting her bottom lip. Yanking her hand away from me, by grabbing her wrist, I twist her arm turning her around. With her back now to my chest, she wiggles her ass, thinking she is going to get what she wants. Placing my hand over her throat, feeling her fast pulse, she lets out a small moan.

              “If you ever fucking touch me again I will make you regret it.” I whisper into her ear, before shoving her off me and further down the main hallway. She lands on her hands and knees, looking up at me with wide eyes, finally understanding I am not someone to fuck with. Walking back toward the asshole I have plans for, I grab his ankles, and proceed to drag him through the open door. Before I close it all the way, I make sure to inform Kiersten about my one kind rule, “I only give one warning.” I state before shutting the door in her, now blood drained, face.