Grit (Dirty #6) (16 page)

Thirty-Two

Rocky

It wasn’t as difficult as I expected to talk Link into letting me come into work today. I thought he’d put up a fight after the whole ER trip last night, but I think that’s actually why he goes along with it. So he can keep an eye on me.

After I knew he was safe and I got everything off my chest last night, I crashed hard. I awoke this morning to breakfast in bed—or couch, since that’s where I ended up sleeping post rant.

Link apologized again, and again. What he doesn’t seem to get is that I’m not mad or hurt. I even understand why he does most of the things he does, and I’m often envious, but that doesn’t mean we can continue on the same path.

Everything is different now. We’re having a baby, and that takes precedence over all other things—including, or
especially
, revenge.

I don’t want to take our child to visit him in prison.

Or worse, the cemetery.

My fingers stop on the computer keys with the thought. I couldn’t bear it. It’s not possible to imagine a world without him. Not one I’d want to be a part of.

Joe pokes his head into the office. “How you feeling today?”

“A little tired from the late night, but good. I kept my breakfast down.”

He crinkles his nose. “Good. You need anything?”

“Actually, yeah. Could you grab me a bottle of water? Oh, and a bagel if there are any still out there.”

“You got it,” he says, ducking out the door.

I could totally get use to the men in my life bringing me food. Got to find the silver linings where they present themselves.

The door opens again, but it isn’t Joe like I expect. Link comes in carrying my second breakfast.

“Didn’t I feed you enough this morning?” he teases as he sets it on the desk in front of me.

“I’m making up for all the food I haven’t kept down this week.” I say it as a joke, but his smile fades.

I was hoping we could start fresh today and put everything behind us. Move on and move forward. Obviously Link wants to do what he does best, and silently stew over it all.

I’m not about to let that happen, so I use my number one best distraction tactic. My sexuality. It may sound wrong, but trust me when I say it feels so right.

I roll the office chair back and stand, pulling my shirt over my head in one motion. I’m wearing a great bra today, the one I picked up when I bought my new dress for our wasted club night. It pushes and lifts—not the best bra for physical activity, but it’s perfect for seduction.

“What are you doing?” Link husks.

The tone of his voice tells me he knows exactly what I’m doing, but I play along, explaining it to him.

“I’m stripping for you.” I pop the button on my jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. Then, I turn my back to him and slowly wiggle out of my pants. I glance at him over my shoulder as I unclasp my bra, letting the straps fall down my arms.

His gaze is heated as it moves over me. I turn, letting the bra slip to the floor. My eyes hold his as I slide my panties downward and step out of them.

Link growls deep in his throat and reaches back blindly, locating the lock on the door and latching it.

I walk around the desk, brushing past him without a word, and lean my upper half over it. It’s all the invitation he needs. His jeans are rough and cool as he steps up behind me. I love the way it feels against my bare skin, and I shudder in anticipation.

He doesn’t remove his clothes. He unzips, releasing his hard cock, and caresses the head over my folds. It feels good, but we don’t have time to draw this out while we’re at work. Later, he can torture me all he wants, but right now, I need him filling me.

I stretch back, grasping him, and guide him inside of me. He releases a guttural moan that sends butterflies to my tummy and lust to my girly parts.

His hands glide up my back before sliding to my front. One grasps my breast, kneading it with a firm grip, the other trails down, over my belly button and keeps going. His fingers cup my pussy, giving him something to hold onto when he begins thrusting into me. He finds my clit. I’m throbbing there already, and when he circles it with the same pace as he’s driving into me with, I break apart.

I grit my teeth to stay quiet as wave after wave of ecstasy rolls over me.

Link follows, finding his release. It was fast and hard and precisely what we needed. He leans over me, placing a kiss on my cheek. It’s soft, tender.

“My devotion for you,” he breathes, “is greater than all other things.”

It takes me a second to realize he’s responding to my statement from last night. When I said I worried about losing him to his need for vengeance. Again, it’s not a typical I-love-you. It’s better because it’s Link’s way.

Thirty-Three

Link

He knew I’d come. That’s why my name is already on his approved visitors list. I’m giving him exactly what he wanted.

I take a seat and wait for Bates to come through the door.

Though he’s tried to kill me twice, I’ve only set eyes on him once before. The first time he was a coward, attacking me from behind before I ever knew there was danger. He stabbed me in the back, too spineless to face me, and he taught me an important lesson that day; there is always danger, and whether you go looking for it or not, it
can
find you.

The second time, I fought back, and I fought hard. I could have killed him—I nearly did—but I went against my beliefs, and I let him live. I learned another valuable lesson from Bates then, too.

A buzzing stirs me from my thoughts, and I still myself.

Though I came here on my own free will, I was forced into this sit-down. I’m not ready to look at Carter Bates and ask him to tell me what Olivia’s final words were. How can I ever be prepared to do that?

There’s no way I can move on without knowing either—not when he has the answer.

I stare hard at the door, eyes flicking over the inmates as they step into the visitor area. My eyes lock onto Bates’ the moment he comes into view. I stare him down as he moves toward me. No matter what he knows about Livie, I still have the upper hand because I’m on
this
side of the glass.

He sits across from me, the expression on his face unmasked amusement. “What a surprise. When they told me I had a visitor, I thought that feisty lady of yours was back.”

He’s goading me, but I don’t react—not outwardly. Inside, I’m raging.

I gnash my teeth together. The fury inside me coils in my muscles, begging me to end his talking—to end
him
. Pressure rushes to my head and I can feel my face heat with barely-controlled anger.

“Nothing you say has any effect on me.” I force the words out knowing the gravel in which I delivered them gives the lie away. If I could slam my fist through this barrier protecting him, I would. I’d wrap my hands around his vocal chords and make certain he could never speak again.

Bates smiles. “You’re lying, Linken. I bet I’m in the back of your mind every single second.”

“I don’t think twice about you.”

“Then why are you here?” He cocks his head to the side as if he’s truly curious.

“You know why I’m here,” I spit.

He nods. “Ah, she delivered my message. Good girl.”

I expel a burst of air at that, my control slipping.

“You want to know what lovely Olivia had to say before I stuck my knife into her chest while it was still dripping with your blood.”

Fuck
.

My stomach rolls violently.

FUCK
.

FUUUUUUCK
.

Don’t give in
.

Don’t react
.

That’s what he wants
.

Don’t give it to him
.

“What did she say?” I breathe. Though I try to contain it, it’s evident just how badly I need to know.

“You didn’t say please,” he mocks, wagging his finger at me.

God
. He loves this. He’s actually getting off on my misery. Sick fucking bastard.

“I should have killed you,” I seethe.

He sits forward, his face just inches from the glass. “I should have killed
you
. And then I should have fucked your new girlfriend while she screamed and cried—just like the last.”

Everything fades. It all becomes a muted gray background. The only thing I see is Bates, his mouth moving as he spews his revolting words. He’s lit the fuse and he has no idea how close I am to detonating.

“I’m not afraid of you. You tried and failed twice. You took everything I loved and I survived.”

“No, not everything.” He pauses, that slow smug smile lifting into a joker’s grin. “You think I can’t hurt you because I’m trapped behind bars? You think I can’t get to you?
To her?
I know some sick fucking people, Linken, people who would love to get their hands on a sexy piece of ass like Rocky. I wouldn’t even have to persuade them.”

He stops again, eyes darting over my face.

“She’s got to have one of the sweetest pussies I’ve ever tasted. She ever tell you about that? How she let me stick my tongue deep inside her?” He shakes his head. “
Mm-mm-mm
. So damn good.”

My fists clench. He smirks wider.

“Even better than that other girl of yours.”

I explode. All the pain and anger, the years of waiting for justice, the agony of losing it to a plea deal, the suffering, the resentment—it all comes bursting out.

It feels like I move in slow motion, but in reality, it takes me a single heartbeat to react. I stand, sweeping up the chair I just vacated, and slam it into the glass. It doesn’t break, so I swing again. This time it splinters, spider-webbing across until it meets the wooden frame. I rear back, ready to strike again, but the guards seize me from behind. It takes three of them to get the splintered chair out of my hands.

Bates sits immobile the entire time, joyfully looking on as they haul me away.

“I won’t tell,” Bates shouts. “That’s what she said. She wanted to live so badly, she swore she’d never report your murder.”

Guards grab hold of him now, jamming his face against the cracked partition. “Be glad I killed that traitorous bitch,” he continues yelling. “She only cared about herself. Not like Rocky—she has it bad for you. And as long as she does—as long as
you
care about
her
, I will always have power over you.”

Part Five

Life is Beautiful

(Even a tornado is lovely as it destroys.)

Thirty-Four

Link

After getting dragged into security and forced into a chair, I’m stuck with my own thoughts while I wait to see the price I pay for allowing Bates to get to me. I knew this is what he wanted before I walked into this place, and still, I gave it to him. My fury for him slowly ebbs, transferring to anger at myself.

What he said about Livie promising not to tell… Regardless of whether it’s true or not, she did what she needed to do at the time. I don’t blame her for it, and it’s moot anyway. There’s no way she would have let those men go free. She told him what she thought he wanted to hear in order to save her life. I wish it had worked.

They leave me here for nearly twenty minutes, and in that time, I’m able to calm myself down. Having Bates out of sight helps, though his final words play through my mind on a loop.

I will always have power over you.

I will always have power over you.

As long as you care about her, I will always have power over you.

The sheriff steps into the room, eyes assessing my current state. “You going to give me a hard time?” he asks, dropping a file onto the table.

I shake my head.

“If I let you out, are you going to leave here peacefully?”

“Yes.”

“You owe me a few hundred bucks for the glass you broke.”

My brows rise. Is that it? He’s not going to press charges?

“There’s a reason we don’t recommend victims visiting the accused.”

I write a check for the damage I caused and no charges are pressed. Apparently, it isn’t the first time something like this has happened, but I have been permanently removed from Bates’ visitors list.

I’m good with that. I have no reason to see him again—not until his sentencing.

***

After a weekend to weigh my options, I’m sitting in my car outside of Gregory Anthony’s house, phone in hand, waiting. I’m sinking to a deplorable level, but I don’t know what else to do. I need something to motivate him. He’s unlikely to do me any favors after I told his wife in sordid detail about what he did to Olivia and me.

He destroyed my life, so I destroyed his.

Now I need him. Though Anthony probably hates Bates nearly as much as I do, I’m not banking on him easily going along with my plan.

That’s why I need collateral.

Bates’ threats toward Rocky… Telling me he will always have power over us as long as we care about each other is true. I’m taking that truth and using it against Anthony in order to exact my revenge on Bates. Once your opponent finds your weak spot, he’ll keep coming at it. Bates has proved that. I have to stop him. By the time he’s sentenced, we will come full circle, and I will finally be able to move on.

Since he went to prison, Anthony’s wife had to return to work. I’ve checked in from a distance a time or two—not for Anthony, but for Bethany. She didn’t know what her husband was. She didn’t understand she slept next to a monster every night. And I check in for Emma because she’s an innocent little girl. She didn’t ask for her father.

Neither one has anyone looking out for them, so I feel responsible. I’ve driven by a few times, just to make sure they looked okay, and that’s when I saw Bethany dressed in nurse scrubs, loading Emma and the new baby into the car.

I’m waiting here now, because they should be home any minute.

Rocky’s speech from the other night runs through my head. I heard her, and I’m trying. I am. But this isn’t about revenge. This is about protecting her and the baby.

Bates has to go.

He has to go
.

I don’t want to imagine what he could organize from the inside, the things he’d ask others to do. If he ever found out she was pregnant with my child… I don’t even want to consider it.

Bethany’s car passes me on the road and I lean back, trying to stay out of sight. I don’t know how she’d react if she saw me. I was her husband’s victim, but I was also the one who broke the news to her and ruined their lives. I tore a family apart. I’m sure she never wants to see me again.

That day replays in my mind. The way I wanted so badly to scare Anthony. Driving him to his own home where I knew his wife and little girl would be. The way I would have murdered him right in front of them had Rocky not been there to stop me. My revenge, instead, came in the form of a recollection of the way her husband brutally raped Livie before my eyes. He did this while he was married to Bethany—while she was pregnant with little Emma. Yeah, I don’t think she’d want to see me.

I pull up my camera on my phone and zoom in enough to get the front of the house and the car. I want Anthony to recognize it as soon as he lays eyes on the photos. Bethany steps out, swinging her purse and the diaper bag over her shoulder. Even from here, I can tell she looks tired. Being the only provider for the family and having a newborn and a toddler cannot be easy.

I pause, imagining Rocky in that position. That’s still a possibility. If Byers links me to Woods’ murder, that could be her fate. I release a harsh breath.

The back car door opens and Emma bounces out, full of energy. She skips up the driveway and I click the first picture. Bethany shuts the door that was left open and rounds the car, getting the baby carrier out of the other side. I click several more photos, making sure to get as many of the baby as I can. He won’t be able to see the face clearly, but it’s more than enough.

Where before I felt like a pot boiling over, now that I have a plan, I feel the storm of emotions gradually subsiding.

I’m one step closer.