Read Grit (Dirty #6) Page 14


  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.

  Thirty-Five

  Rocky

  “Is that house still available?” I ask Link over dinner. We’re having a rare treat these days after I told him I was craving pizza. We’re on the couch, in front of the TV, fingers slick with grease, and I’m in heaven.

  “I think so,” he says between bites. “Why?”

  “I think we should do it. If you still want to, I think you should put in a bid.”

  We haven’t broached this subject since the night everything came crashing down. Link and I have been really good since that night as well. He replaced his phone, he’s home every night, and when he has errands to run he tries to do it while I’m still at work. On the rare occasion he has to go out after, he often has Joe or Augie come hang out with me. I was annoyed with the idea at first—I don’t need a babysitter—but if Joe hadn’t been here the night I fainted and hit my head, I have no idea how differently everything may have happened.

  The worst part about it is when Joe brings Summer. Not because I dislike her, but because she and my brother are disgusting. They have no issues with PDA. Not that I can talk, I guess. I have sex with Link in the gym office every chance I get.

  “You really want the house?” Link asks, setting his plate on the coffee table.

  I nod. “Yes. The baby is going to need a room. I took measurements earlier, and I have no clue how we’re going to fit a crib in our room. We need a bigger space. And I kind of really love that house.” I realize belatedly that I said our room, but at this point, it is ours.

  He grins the gorgeous Link grin I haven’t seen in a while. “I do too.” He brushes a few kisses along my jaw before leaning over and grabbing his laptop.

  I finish off my pizza as I watch him. I love the way the muscles in his arms bend and twist from something as small as typing. My mind begins to wander as I think about all the other things he does with his hands.

  “It’s still up.” He turns the screen so I can see. “I’ll email Joel with an offer.” He pauses, eyes searching my face. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m positive.”

  He keeps looking at me, and something in his eyes changes. I can’t pinpoint what it is, but I feel my face heat. I’m fucking blushing. I never blush. What the hell?

  “You make me happy,” he says, his voice gritty with emotion.

  I smile at him, my belly doing a little flip. I love you too.

  “Ditto, dude. Now buy me a house.”

  ~*~

  After Link insisted on looking it up, we read that firing a gun while pregnant isn’t safe due to the high decibel sound and possibility of lead intake through the skin while loading. Now, we’ve ceased all training and self-defense classes, and I have very little to do during my down time, so I throw myself into my favorite pastime.

  The doctor said I can paint for small periods of time in well-ventilated areas—thank goodness or I’d go insane from boredom. I open the living room window several inches and place a fresh canvas on the easel. I step back, letting my mind go to work. I’d like to paint something for the baby’s future bedroom, but without knowing the sex, I don’t know what colors to use.

  Of course, I’m a girl, but I don’t do all that frilly bubble gum pink crap. Joe has always favored red as opposed to the stereotypical blue.

  I decide to use a series of blues and greens and create an underwater theme.

  I dip my brush and go to work, losing myself in the metallic scent of the paint, and the sweep of my brush. For me, painting is a release. Whatever is weighing on me lifts, if only for the time being. It’s freeing. I love it.

  I can’t believe I walked away from it for so long.

  The thought of going to school and trying to make something out of my skill scurries through my mind once again.

  Link comes in and sits sideways on the couch so he can watch me. It makes me nervous, having someone see my work in progress, but he’s not looking at the canvas, I realize. He’s watching me.

  My heart does that flutter that reminds me how much I love him. I set the brush down—I can paint later. Right now I want to show him how deeply my feelings run for him.

  Thirty-Six


  Link

  I know I should tell Rocky about Garrett. And Bates. And my plan. About the pictures of Bethany and her kids and why I took them. And about Anthony. I should stop lying about where I go when I’m not with her and tell her everything.

  I know this, but I don’t.

  Dr. Ortiz said she’s doing well. She’s not out of the clear yet, but her tests all looked good. She told her to keep doing what she’s doing because it’s working. Her blood pressure isn’t quite normal, but it’s not alarmingly high anymore either.

  As long as I keep Rocky happy, she’ll be healthy. I can’t do that if I confess my sins. It will only make me feel better—not her.

  I didn’t want to tell her when Bates’ was being sentenced, but she and I submitted victim’s statements to the judge, choosing not to speak, so she would have found out anyway. For me, I have no reason now that I have a plan. It doesn’t stop me from attempting to talk her into staying home. Especially after his threats toward her.

  “I need to be there,” she murmurs. “I want to watch that bastard get put away for the rest of his life, and I want to smile while it happens.”

  It’s understandable. I feel the same way.

  ***

  Rocky and I stop before the double doors leading into the courtroom. Despite looking forward to this moment for so long, I’m nervous. The way Rocky’s hands tremble give her anxiety away as well.

  I turn her so she’s facing me and take her hands in mine. “We don’t have to go in there. We can leave right now.”

  “No,” she states, voice firm. “He’s not going to scare me away.”

  I nod, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “Okay, but if it gets to be too much, just say it and we’re gone.”