Layers Deep (4 page)

It
didn’t take him long to be done, but it felt like forever to me. At
that moment, I was the biggest coward in the world. When I should
have saved her, I couldn’t. The one time my mother needed my help,
I froze as if buried in that darkened hole, held captive by a
kidnapper. I hated myself that day, and I promised I’d never let
fear take over again. I’d put myself in danger to save anyone and
everyone I could. No matter what the price. That was the day I
decided to be a cop.

Before Wright left, he warned, “You tell anyone about this,
Peg, and I’ll take that pretty little girl of yours until she
bleeds on my cock. And it will be all your fault.”

As
soon as the door shut closed, I ran into the kitchen to find Mom
passing out on the floor. Her skirt and apron were soaked in blood.
I covered her with a blanket and dialed 911.

I
told her later I’d forgotten a book, come back to get it, and found
her there. But I think she knew. I could see it in her eyes. She
knew I’d failed her. My mother never mentioned Wright. She never
told anyone what he’d done to her. The shame in her eyes was washed
over by grief not only for the loss of her baby, but also for the
most precious memory of her husband she carried in her stomach. At
the hospital, the generous doctors and nurses kept asking if there
was anything they could do, but even they couldn’t give life to the
miscarried child. Neither of us could hold back the cries and sobs.
I crawled into her bed and lay there in her arms every day while
she recovered at the hospital; physically, at least. At moments,
she’d coo at me like I was the baby, calling me Emma in her dreams.
Even her breast milk began to leak.

We
buried Emma beside Dad. The little square piece of marble looked
odd beside his, but at least he wasn’t alone. A wreath made of
fresh daisies I’d picked hung on the cross above her tombstone. My
mother stood over the grave for hours, holding onto her swollen
tummy as if Emma were still in there. She finally collapsed onto
her knees. I will never forget that image. The worst part of the
funeral was seeing Wright, the righteous man, standing beside some
of the other town’s folk, watching me and my mother. Little did he
know my fear of him had passed the minute I vowed to never be
afraid of a man.

The
unborn child was the last piece of my father that my mother and I
had, and Wright robbed us both of that child. He robbed my mother
of a daughter, and me of a sister. I often wondered whether Emma
would have had my father’s eyes or his blond streak of hair, a
birthmark among the light brown locks. I figured her hair would
have curled like mine, the way our mother’s did. But now I wouldn’t
have a sibling to laugh, walk to school, or share my secrets with.
I couldn’t give her my dolls or teach her the alphabet.

My
mother was never the same after that. She stopped making waffles
from scratch and went through the motions of life for me—the coward
who’d let her down. After that dreadful day my mother would jump at
the slightest of sounds and wake up in the middle of the night to
check the locks. Everything collapsed that day. Wright ripped out
our hearts, tore apart our family, and instilled rage I’d never
forget. I carried the guilt for not helping my mother through my
schooling as a cop, needing to prove myself worthy.

Soon
after the funeral we moved to a new town on the other side of the
country, on the east coast. I was sure no one knew when we left or
to where. My mother only packed a suitcase, took my hand, and
called a cab. She left everything else behind, even my father’s
car. She walked Millie to a neighbor’s house. I missed the dog, but
didn’t dare tell Mom. She had enough to deal with.

After a few bus and train rides, we arrived at what was
supposed to be a new beginning – except Wright seemed to have come
along with us, in both our memories. So, life after that wasn’t
peachy. She lived in constant mourning and fear. He’d taken
everything away: my sister, my mother’s strength and love for life,
my childhood, and I was sure my father’s life as well.

My
mother still lives in a tiny apartment. Never trusting Wright, I’ve
moved her over a dozen times since I left for school. He found us
twice before, but now I had the means to make sure he wouldn’t find
us again. I knew he looked for her. And I’d go to hell and back
before I let him find her. She was bolted under ten locks and
chains, with a bottle of tequila on the kitchen table.

“
It’s the only thing that makes me forget,” she told me when I
was older. So I bought her a bottle once in a while if she’d
promise me she’d only drink with me, so we could both forget. She
kept the promise. At one point I told her I’d make things right,
but I think she’d had too many shots to remember.

I
hated Wright. I despised him with a passion, and the day he’d pay
for his sins was coming. I’d build my strength, knowledge, and
connections, and when the time was right, I’d strike back. I’d take
his life with no evidence, just the way he took the lives of my
unborn sister and my father. And I’d make sure he knew exactly who
I was when I slit his throat. Payback was a bitch. And I was coming
head on.

At four a.m.
on Tuesday morning, my eyes felt like someone had poured coffee in
them. The door lock clicked and Laura came in from her night shift.
She was wearing her sweats and her hair was still damp, which could
only mean she’d had a rough night and used the showers at
headquarters. Neither of us really liked showering at work. That
place needed a major renovation. Her eyes were barely propped open
and I could fall asleep standing just looking at her, even with
what felt like my caffeine-filled veins. I wished I could switch
places with her, knowing she’d pass out as soon as her head hit the
pillow.

Lucky girl.

Ever since
Tristan Cross had walked into the auditorium, I either couldn’t
sleep, or I slept and dreamt about him. The restless nights
imagining us together tortured me. During the few hours of sleep,
his body became mine as I roamed the rippled fields of muscles I
imagined on his abs. The six-pack narrowed into a perfect valley
where I slid my tongue toward a glistening mushroom cap. The pink
tip summoned my lips to taste it. I’d wake up drenched in my own
sweet juices, all swollen from the onslaught of my fingers. The
naughty things he did to me in my dreams left my limbs sore in the
morning. How could someone tire you out through your dreams?

“Another
sleepless night?” she asked.

“Yes.” I
stretched out my arms, trying to infuse strength into them.

“Okay, what’s
his name?” She threw down her duffle bag.

“What are you
talking about?” I asked.

“You have that
I can’t stop thinking about him
look.” Laura grabbed a
bottle of water and plopped down on the couch beside me.

There was a
look?

“Just some
work-related stuff.” I shrugged it off, remembering what made my
friend such a good cop. Nothing could pass her by, and she’d figure
it all out pretty soon. That is, if I didn’t spill my guts
first.

“Hey, can I
ask you a question?” I bit my lip.

“You're making
me nervous, Allie. You’re confused and indecisive. That’s dangerous
for work. Whatever’s troubling you, it needs to go away. I’ve never
seen you this way before. Ask away.” She motioned with her hands
for me to come closer, like a good priest to a parishioner ready
for a confession.

I clasped my
hands together in front of me, cracking my fingers. “Did you hear
anything from Cross Enterprises about that job?”

“Yes, I called
to follow up and was told the position had been filled already. I
thought you didn’t apply?”

“I didn’t.” I
slouched back. How could I have been so stupid? I should have
filled out that application on the spot and visited my mother while
I waited for the interview. And now Cross had hired someone else. I
thought we had a connection. I thought he’d wait for me. Had I lost
my only opportunity to get rid of Wright properly, without
consequence? Worst of all, something hit me deep inside, and my
chest deflated. Why did my heart feel shattered and empty? The idea
of not seeing Cross again aggravated me more than I expected and I
frowned.

“Looks like a
life’s little regret.” She wrapped her arm around me. “Don’t worry,
if you like we can go out next weekend to that club he owns,
Kissed, and find us some hot-off-the-skillet men who’ll appreciate
your boobs and maybe your ass as well.” She grinned with a wide
smile, rubbing the side of my shoulder like a mother would. “Then
we can hang off their beautiful biceps like monkeys while Cross
burns in a pit fueled by his jealousy.”

As much as I
wanted to deny it, the thought of making Cross jealous sounded
appetizing. Except I didn’t want to hang off anyone’s bicep unless
it belonged to Cross himself. Mr. D, my nightly entertainer stuck
in the bottom drawer of my dresser, would see way more action
tonight while I thought about Cross’s muscles, or more
specifically, the only muscle that could satisfy my yearnings.

And now, I’d
blown an opportunity to work for the perfect guy and might have
also put my mother in more danger than necessary. Finding another
means to get rid of Wright without a trace would not be easy. From
my research Cross was my best bet, and now I’d blown it.

I fidgeted on
the sofa, so she continued.

“If it’s any
consolation, whoever got the job can’t possibly deserve it more
than you do. It’s weird they’d want a bunch of rookies applying
anyways, but I wouldn’t have minded learning a few things from the
Cross brothers, if you know what I mean.” Her brows moved up and
down suggestively. Any opportunity to feast our eyes on a hot man
like Cross was like an all-you-can-eat buffet, serving nothing but
sweets and deliciously filling carbs.

Laura, like
me, was so focused on her career she had practically no chance for
a personal life. Talking about going out to a night club was just
that – talking. We’d never do it. We were either working or
sleeping it off. We barely had time to cook or shop for bare
necessities. Being on the bottom of the totem pole meant we picked
up shifts no one else wanted, and worked in the most dangerous
locations with the cruelest of civilization. She was the only one
besides me at headquarters who held a black belt in more than one
discipline, and to keep the titles, we trained a few times a week,
giving special lessons at local karate clubs.

“You deserved
it just as much as I did.”

“But it was a
bit more important to you, on a personal level, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” I
admitted.

“Allie,
whatever ghosts from the past are haunting your present, you need
to either forget them or bury them in the past.”

Bury was
exactly what I had in mind. The moment Wright’s body was buried, I
could finally live in peace.

“I saw Tristan
Cross on Friday night,” I blurted.

“Seriously?”

“He came to
Mike’s and had a few shots with me, and then drove me home.”

“And?”

“That’s
it.”

“You mean the
hottest, richest, and sexiest bachelor in New York drove you home,
and that’s it? Not to mention the man responsible for the hiring
decision on the most sought-after job. You got the job, didn’t you?
Oh no! You did him! Was it the
fuck me and it’s yours
kind
of interview?”

I felt heat
rush to my cheeks. She wasn’t too far off because that’s exactly
what I wanted to do to Tristan Cross, and the only thing that had
stopped me on Friday night was too much tequila. Cross didn’t
strike me as the kind who took advantage of intoxicated women. And
I knew he wanted it too. He had to. That twinkle in his eyes
couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than
I want you, and I
want it now
. My gauge had been off the charts that night.

“You think I’d
stoop that low?” Actually, I would, but Laura didn’t have to know
it.

“There's
nothing wrong with using what God gave you to your advantage. Women
have a difficult enough life as it is.”

And that was
the answer to most of Laura’s worries. In my stripping days—yes,
that’s how I’d paid my way through college—she’d said the exact
same thing: flaunt what you have to get what you want.

“He didn’t
really say it, but yes, I thought he wanted me for the job.”

“And what
stopped him?”

“Paperwork; I
hadn’t applied. I needed to visit my mother before I did, and now
if the job is filled, it’s pointless. Everything is ruined.” I
lowered my head between my knees.

“Maybe he’d
change his mind if you at least told him you’re interested. Don’t
let this opportunity pass. I bet if he found you once, he’ll find
you again.” Then she added, “And if you do screw him, make sure you
do it well and let me know all the details.”

Yeah, like
that was going to happen. As much as my friend liked to gush about
her erotic adventures and what’d she’d done with her new conquest
of the month
à la quickie style
before or after work, I
wasn’t too keen on hearing the details. At times it surprised me
she didn’t leave little check marks on her four-poster bed. Laura
said she had no time for a relationship and didn’t really like a
buzzing vibrator, so a quickie was her only option.

And those were
the times I was thankful we’d worked opposite shifts. At least I
didn’t have to hear what was going on behind the wall. Although I
didn’t really appreciate finding men’s underwear in our laundry
basket. Yuck!

“I need to hit
the pillow.” She pushed off the sofa and weaved between the
furniture toward her bedroom.