“You a cop or something?”
Something. The days of agenting are over. I can’t do it without her, Jackie lamented, pulling at her shirt but getting stuck with it halfway off her head. I’m no good without her, and I couldn’t fucking save her. What fucking good am I now?
“Not anymore,” she muttered, struggling out of her shirt and kicking off her sweats.
Scott walked over and picked up the holstered gun and the cuffs next to them. “Nice.” He jingled them at her. “I believe, Ms. Slut, that you are under arrest for lewd and lascivious conduct.”
“You’ll never take me alive, copper,” she cried but only managed to roll over toward the other side of the bed before one cuff latched around her wrist.
Scott laughed at her. “You can’t fucking walk, much less get away, but I think that counts for evading arrest as well.” He pulled her toward the headboard, and Jackie hardly felt the metal digging into her wrist. “Maybe a few lashes with the belt will put you back in line.”
“Jackie.”
She pulled on the cuffs until the metal dug into flesh. “Take more than a lousy belt to hurt me, bucko, and it’s Jack, not Jackie.”
“Jackie.” She heard the soft, faint voice again.
Jackie turned back to glare at him, her heart in her throat. Fuck, he sounded just like Laurel for a second. “It’s Jack.”
Scott shrugged. “Got some ID, bitch?” His belt whipped across her backside from left to right. “No? How many violations is that now, four?” He brought the belt down across the other cheek, and Jackie flinched, the burn of pain washing through her. “Or was it five?”
“Just don’t call me Jackie.”
Hands reached around her, digging into the flesh of her breasts, and Jackie could feel the hardness of him pressed against her ass. His mouth whispered close to her ear. “I’ll call you whatever I like.”
“Jackie, please.”
She turned, looking toward the other side of the room. “Laurel?” My God, I’m losing my fucking mind. The belt stung her again.
“Jackie, stop.” The voice was quiet but insistent.
Jackie gritted her teeth, yanking on the cuffs while the belt came down again and again. She’s going to haunt me to my grave. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I tried.”
“Think that’s good enough, you stupid slut?” Scott sneered, getting into his role.
“Enough, Jackie.”
Jackie squeezed tears out through clenched eyes. “You can’t do this to me. Please,” she said, beginning to sob. “I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t.” She could hear the sound of the nightstick rising up from the past, thudding against flesh, tearing away humanity with each bruising strike.
“Let me show you what you’re good for,” Scott said, and Jackie felt her knees pushed out wide as he pushed himself into her.
“Jackie,” Laurel’s voice said, very faint this time.
She gasped for air, stuttering through the now hysterical crying that had overtaken her. “Harder!” she yelled. “Come on… Carl. Is that… all you’ve got?”
“Carl? Who the hell is Carl?”
“Make it bleed… you fucking prick. Where’s your fucking nightstick?”
“Huh? You okay, Jack?”
“Go ahead!” she screamed, yanking on the cuffs, bucking against Scott, whose momentum was waning. “Where’s your fucking nightstick now? You want to shove it up my cunt? Or… or… or tear into my ass? Make me bleed, you motherfucker. Come on!” Control vanished. Screaming, crying, fucking-it didn’t matter. Nothing touched the pain that was eating her from the inside out.
“Whoa, I think we just passed my stopping point.”
She felt him pull out of her, and suddenly she was an empty void once more. “No! No, no, Carl, please. I know you want to. You said I’d end up just like her, and you were right. You were! Please, please don’t stop.”
“Jesus Christ! Your wrists are bleeding all over the place. You crazy bitch.”
Jackie bucked her body, yanking twice on the cuffs until the piece of wooden lattice in her headboard broke under the stress. She flung herself around, catching Scott flush across the side of his face. Blood burst from his mouth, and he fell sideways, crying out. She fell on him, too drunk to actually lunge, and began punching, awkward two-barreled swings of connected fists.
“Fuck! You psycho.” He shoved her back onto the bed. “What is the-” He stopped and raised up his hands. Jackie had pulled her Glock free of the holster he had slung over his shoulder. “Hey! Take it easy, Jack.”
She pushed away from him, backing toward the head of the bed, the gun shaking in her hand. “You killed her,” she said in a tremulous voice, full of pain and anger.
“What? I didn’t kill anyone,” he said, clambering off the bed, hands still held in the air.
“She killed herself because of you, Carl, you… you sadistic. .. little shit.”
“Carl?” His voice was growing shaky. “Who the hell are you talking about? I’m not Carl.”
Jackie wiped away the tears with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her cheek. Her eyes were wild and staring, focused on nothing. “Twenty years! I’ve waited…” She took the gun in both hands now, but the shaking continued. “Hunted you for twenty… goddamn… years!” Her voice rose to a shriek.
A hand reached in through the door at that moment, grabbing Scott by the hair and yanking him off his feet, into the hall.
“Jackie!” Shelby’s voice boomed through the room like a thunderclap.
For a moment, Jackie’s breath stopped. Then her body swayed uneasily before giving way, and she sat back on the edge of the bed.
She blinked, looking like a lost child caught in the rain. “Laur? You’re okay?”
Shelby stepped into the room toward the bed. “Aw, baby. Here, give me the gun.”
The Glock came free of Jackie’s hands with ease, and Shelby set it on the dresser. She sat down next to Jackie and put an arm around her. “Jackie? Sweetie, look at me. It’s Shelby.”
She stared at Shelby for a moment, reaching up to touch her dark hair. “Shelby? But Laur. I heard her. I… I can smell her perfume.”
Out in the hall, Scott’s ranting voice was being met by Nick’s very calm tone. “Mister, I suggest you leave now while I still have my patience.”
“I’m calling the fucking cops. Who are you people?”
His voice betrayed nothing. “Did you hurt her?”
“Listen, buddy-”
There was the sound of flesh slapping flesh, and Scott cried out. “The last thing we are is buddies. I asked you a question. Did you hurt her?”
“Jesus Christ, the crazy bitch wanted me to hit her, thought I was some dude named Carl.” There was a quick crack of sound, followed by the unmistakable thump of a body hitting the wall. “Fuck! You broke my nose, you cocksucker.”
Nick poked his head in and, seeing it was safe enough, grabbed Scott’s clothes off the floor.
“You all right?” he asked Shelby.
She nodded. “Yeah, go take care of that.” Nick nodded and walked back down the hall. Shelby turned back to Jackie. “It’s all right now. Everything’s going to be okay. Are you hurt?”
Jackie pointed toward the open door. “Carl. It was… Where’s Laur?”
“She’s gone, hon. Laurel’s dead, remember?”
Jackie stared at Shelby, recognition creeping back in. “Oh.” Her head came down against Shelby’s breast, her body beginning to shake. “I let her die. I let her die.”
Shelby stroked Jackie’s hair while the tears soaked into her shirt. “No, baby, you did no such thing.”
Chapter 36
“She has a piano, Nick,” Shelby said, giving him a little smirk. “I wonder if she’s any good?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you wake her up and see if she’ll play something for us?”
She ignored him and began to play something, her touch soft upon the keys. Nick had always found her playing quiet and sad, which held considerable appeal to his general state of being. The remains of Indian takeout were still scattered on the coffee table, and Nick picked absently at them, unsure about what to think or do with himself. Shelby had slept on the same couch for three hours earlier in the evening, but he had not been able to. It was not his bed, and no amount of wrangling or shifting around could make it comfortable enough.