All That Matters (32 page)

“On it.” Monroe ended the call without any other comment. Train appreciated that.

In the shower, under the spray, Meg was starting to come around. She babbled something, the words so slurred that Train couldn't understand them. He could understand when she started to cry. “I've got her.” His voice was rougher than he wanted it to be. “You two should take a break.” Meg met his eyes, and he was sure that she saw him as they left the room. She pulled back from him but he kept his grip as firm as he could without hurting her. “Did Josh do this to you?”

“Why do you care?” Her words were still slurred, but he could understand her now. “I'm just a whore, right? Get out. All of you, get out of my fucking house.” Her eyes were barely open. Train wasn't sure how she was standing.

“No,” Train said simply. “You're shaking. Time to get out of the shower.”

“You can't tell me no. Get out. Just leave.” She stumbled; he grabbed her to keep her from falling.

Train wasn't sure if she started screaming because he touched her or because he hurt her when he did. It didn’t matter. Jillian and Ace were back in the bathroom before she stopped. The look that Jillian gave him pissed him off, but he understood it, so he stepped back and let them take Meg. It pissed him off to see Ace's hands on her, even though he knew that it wasn't rational. He was only trying to help.

Meg had started to cry again, soft sobs this time. Her shoulders shook. Train watched Jillian comfort her. He'd told Ace more than once that Jillian was broken. He realized now that Meg was broken, too. She had been from the first day he'd met her, and now she was even more so, and part of that was on him.

“Let's go and get you in bed. Get you warm.” Jillian's tone was more suited to be used on a toddler than an adult, but it seemed to be doing the trick on Meg.

Train watched the two women leave the bathroom. There was nothing that he could do for Meg right now; it was his own fault because of what he'd said to her. “Fuck.”

“Take a breath. Smoke a cigarette,” Ace suggested. “Let Jillian calm her down.”

“I'm not sure that we can come back from the shit that I said to her,” Train admitted. “She told me to get out.”

“Did you think she wasn't going to be pissed after the things you called her? She's pissed, hurt and scared. That's not a good combination. Best thing for you to do right now is what I said, have a smoke and let Jilly work her magic.”

“She's still going to be pissed,” Train pointed out. “And I'm still pissed she didn't tell me about the movies. It's kind of an important detail.”

“My guess? She was ashamed of it and didn't think that you'd react well to the news.”

“I didn't. I just... she was...” Train could see it in his mind. It was like he couldn't see anything else. He couldn't bring himself to tell Ace that one of the hardest parts was seeing how much she'd been enjoying herself during the entire fucking thing. “I can't do this.”

“Then leave. Leave her here. Jillian and I will stay until she's out of the woods. After that, she'll be alone. No kids. No you. I'm sure that she'll be fine. I'm sure this whole suicide attempt was just a fluke. If you can't do this, go.” Ace shrugged his shoulders. “Just a couple hours ago, you were telling me how done you were with her. If that's still the case, you've wasted enough time, right?”

Train knew that it wasn't a fluke. Meg was broken. “Fuck you. I know what you're trying to do.” He didn't like people trying to use psychology on him, but he had to admit, it made him realize that he couldn't leave. For better or worse, he loved Meg. She needed him, and he'd let her down.

“Is it working?” Ace's words broke him out of his thoughts.

“One day, when you least expect it, I'm going to punch you right in the face.” Train exhaled a deep breath. “Give me a cigarette. Can't smoke in here, though, smoke bothers Leo's asthma. Don't say that he's not here. He will be, and the smell lingers.”

“I wasn't going to say that. You'll get him back.”

The smoke did nothing to calm Train's nerves or temper the rage coiled beneath his surface. Jillian remained upstairs with Meg. Ace alternated between watching television and going up to check on them. Train had grabbed a book, not that he could actually retain any information, but it would give him something to do and stop Ace from asking if he was alright.

When his phone rang, he saw that it was Monroe and he got hopeful. “Talk to me.”

“I've got him. I've got the fucker. His hands are all fucked up, like he's been in a fight. Where do you want him?”

Train had given serious thought to where to take Josh, and what he was going to do to him. He'd come across the winning idea about an hour earlier, as Ace watched some ridiculous so-called reality show. “Take him down to the warehouse where The Street Kings used to have their place, around the back there's a parking lot. I'll be there in ten minutes. Fifteen tops.” He just needed to run next door and grab a few things “Don't lose him.” He ended the call, looked over at Ace. “Monroe's got the fucker.

“You want me to ride with you?” Ace offered.

“No, you stay here. If Meg asks, tell her that I'll be right back. Tell her that it's a club thing, she'll get that. It won't make her feel bad. Or it might, but she'll understand it.”

“You really do suck at this whole relationship thing, don't you?” Ace chuckled. “Don't worry, I'll take care of your old lady like she's my own.”

<#<#<#

The warehouse where The Street Kings had kept a base of operation for years was smack in the middle of the worst blight the city had seen. It usually depressed Train to drive through this part of town, especially to see the houses that had obviously been homes, with swing sets and tree houses, literally falling apart but he didn't even notice it tonight. Everything was focused on what he'd find when he got to the now-abandoned building: Josh. Train had devoted a considerable amount of time to how he should kill the man.

The last time that they'd been face to face, he'd intended to slit Josh's throat so he could watch him choke on his own blood, but the slimy fucker had gotten away. Train knew now that was too easy a death for him. Even if Meg could never forgive him for the things that he'd said to her, Train would still know that he'd done this for her. Josh would never get the chance to hurt her again.

He'd told Monroe to wait in the parking lot, and there he was. Train parked a few feet away from his truck. “Where is he?” he demanded. Monroe motioned to the bed of the truck. Train stepped forward, looked, saw that Josh was there and that he was naked. “You undressed him?”

“Found him that way. Passed out in the bathroom at his dealer's house,” Monroe explained. “Didn't really wanna try and dress him.”

“Has he woken up at all?”

“No,” Monroe replied. “I even tried smacking him around a bit, it didn't help.”

“I've got something for that.” Train looked down at Josh, realized that while Monroe had done a fine job tying him up, he needed Josh to just be bound at the wrist and ankles. “You got a hitch on your truck?”

“Yeah. I do. Do I even want to know what's in that bag?”

“Probably not,” Train replied. Monroe was a tough son of a bitch, but that didn't mean he'd be alright with what he had planned. It was pretty gruesome but completely fitting for all the times that Josh had torn Meg apart. “I need him awake. I want to talk to him first.”

“You want to take him inside?”

“No. We'll be good out here. Go and get the bag.” Train reached into his pocket and took out the bottle that Jillian had used to make Meg wake up. He'd considered that Josh might be out. The stuff woke him up. He started to scream. Train hit him several times in the face. It gave him pleasure to see the blood coming from Josh's nose; it was just the start of the blood. “Why'd you beat the shit out of Meg?”

“She slapped me. The bitch didn't waste any time calling you, I bet. She played the woe is me card right?” Josh was obviously either still high or very stupid, maybe a combination of both. “Kick my ass all you want, she'll never get those boys back.”

“You had something to do with the boys being taken?” Train looked up as Monroe dropped the bag into the bed of the truck next to Josh. The chains inside thudded against the metal. Josh finally had the sense to look scared. “Tell me and it'll be quick.”

“I signed over my parental rights to Roxie. She's got this new husband, but she can't have any more kids, too many abortions or some shit.” Josh actually chuckled at that. “Would it have killed her to remember to take her pill?”

“How did you find her?”

“She found me,” Josh answered. “She wanted the kids back, was looking for dirt on Meg. Well, more dirt, because she already knew about the movies.”

“What do you know about the movies?” Train snarled the words and reached for the bag. “Cut him free. Get his arms and legs apart, Monroe.”

“He asked you a question, what do you know about the movies?” Monroe questioned. Josh laughed. He was so high that Train wasn't sure pain would even register with him, which was going to be a problem. He didn't want to draw this out, so he could get back to Meg. “Fuck this.” Monroe went over to the truck door and came back with a taser in his hand.

Josh screamed as the electricity was applied to his bare skin. “I knew that Carlos would use her for them. I didn't tell her how he made his living. She never even knew, she just thought that she got fucked up and passed out.”

Train saw red, only red. “Are you saying that this Carlos fuck drugged your sister and you let him?”

“He cut me in on the profits. And this was back when Meg was skinny, when people would want to see her fuck.”

“Get the chains.” Train saw the picture of what had happened to Meg, his Meg, clearer, and it cut through the red rage. Monroe opened the bags.

“Chains? What are the chains for? Come on, you said you'd make it quick. You don't have to do this.” Josh began to bargain, to beg for his life, but Train wasn't interested in any argument that he had to make. For Josh, it was the end, and there was no way around that. His protests and pleas stopped as Train took the last item out of the bag, a ball gag. Josh wasn't silent after that, but he was quieter.

“I need your help.” Train turned his attention to Monroe. “It's not going to be pretty, and you're going to need to wash your truck thoroughly after.” He waited, watched until Monroe connected the dots between the trucks, the chains and the thrashing body in the back of his truck. “I can figure out a way to do it without you, if it's too much.”

“I'm not sure that it's enough for him. I know the Carlos he's talking about. Meg was with him for a while. After they were over, I questioned him on a case that involved the rape of a sixteen-year-old girl. He had an alibi, another woman.” Monroe looked as angry as Train had ever seen him. “There were rumors of porn movies surfacing online where the women were drugged. It was part of a sick series.”

“How many movies?”

“I don't remember,” Monroe admitted. “I've got my old files, I can take a look.”

Train felt all the bits and pieces of information that he knew slide into place, pieces of the puzzle locking in. Meg hadn't been aware of what was happening to her. People had taken advantage of her, and they'd pay for it.

Josh continued to thrash around in the truck bed, even less successfully than before with the heavy chains Train hooked to his wrists. Monroe did the same with his feet. “We're going to have to turn the trucks around to get this done. Let's do it.”

Monroe dropped the back gate of the truck, yanked the chain and pulled Josh out. He fell to the ground with a bone-jarring thud that made him yell against the gag. It took only a few minutes to turn the trucks into the proper position, secure the chains to the hitches.

“Who are you calling?” Train asked as he noticed Monroe on his phone.

“Getting Einstein and Caesar out here to help me with the cleanup. This is going to be a mess, and I don't expect you to hang around, you need to get back to Meg. They're on the way. Said to tell Meg they hope she feels better.”

Train wasn't sure that Meg would ever feel better, but this was going to be a start. “Thanks. I appreciate it. You want the hands or the feet?” Monroe paled slightly. “Eh, it doesn't really matter, I guess.” No matter who had which end, the result would be the same.