Strength (Mark of Nexus #1) (19 page)

And Wallace…

My heart constricted. Why didn’t he tell me? I could’ve…well, I could’ve been there. Even if he didn’t want my comfort, I could’ve tried. How many years had he been bottling that pain up inside?

A tear spilled down my cheek, grief-stricken and ashamed.
Damn it.
I wanted to see him. I
needed
to see him. And as selfish as it was, I could only think of the safety and refuge I’d felt within his arms.

Over the past few weeks, I’d come to take his presence for granted. Despite my adamant protests to the contrary, I enjoyed our time together. Being with him had been easy
.
I hadn’t had to explain myself or justify my actions. He’d simply accepted me as I was, even when I was…drunk.

Oh no…

“The name of the driver was Roman West.” Cole retreated to the far end of the room, slipping into the shadows. “He got six to ten.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Was I supposed to say something?

“Seven years into the sentence, he was released on parole. Do you believe that? That’s our justice system.” His voice echoed off the walls, laced with latent frustration. “Take two lives—steal a lifetime’s worth of memories—and you’re held in the pen for less than a decade. Sent back into society to do it all over again.”

Honestly, I was glad I couldn’t see him. There was an unnerving edge to his tone, and it was setting off my internal alarms “Did he ever try to make it right with you guys? I mean, I know parole is pretty restric—”

“No. Not even at the end.”

My stomach twisted. “The end?”

“He was killed,” he replied in a flat tone, coming back into view. “Do you know how he died, Rena?”

I bit down on my lip, following his every move. “I-I don’t know.”

“Trauma.” The corner of his mouth lifted, and his eyes glinted, reflecting the heater’s small flame. “Horrific, blunt force trauma.”

“From what?” I whispered.

“Who can say?” He paused, letting his words linger in the air between us. “They never found the body.”

“Oh.” It was like he was taunting me, luring me in for something. I didn’t know what to do or say or even think. Everything was playing out before my eyes, and I was starting to feel detached from the whole situation. “Then how did you—”

“Do you know how much force it takes to inflict a death blow?” He took a few steps and sat on the edge of the bed.

“No.”

“The guy was walking home from the graveyard shift, just before dawn. It was mid-February and snowing like hell. Not exactly the best time to be out on the street, ya know? Though, it must’ve been all the same to him. He’d already violated his parole agreement.”

I was paralyzed.

“He’d scored a forty from one of his new friends at the foundry and was in the process of draining it when he was…
confronted
.” He rubbed his chin.

“How do you…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I didn’t want to know how he’d learned the case details. I didn’t want to hear anything else about it.

“He went missing,” he continued. “Never turned up.”

“Please stop.”

“You wanted to know so badly.”

I wanted to throw up. “I know, but please, just…don’t.”

“We were teenagers at the time, living with our Grandma Clara. Grandpa Freddy had passed away two years before that, leaving us with no one to cling to but each other. It was a struggle to make ends meet back then. For a while, I didn’t think we were going to make it.”

He got up again, wandering toward the far wall. It was like he couldn’t sit still. “Grandma worked through her retirement years, trying to keep food on the table. It wasn’t right. She wasn’t supposed to have us as her cross to bear.”

“Cole…”

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” He put both hands flat on the wall, looking down at the floor. “That bastard was out on the street again, and we were the ones paying for his crime. It wasn’t fair. He should have been the one to die!”

His voice was raw and rang out in the empty room. Goose bumps rose on my arms as I watched his shoulders shake with tormented emotion. This wasn’t a story. It was a confession.

I couldn’t speak. Colorful dots danced before my eyes, and my ears rang. “Y-You killed him.”

“No.” He didn’t bother turning around as he lowered his voice, pausing to let his next words sink in. “Wallace did.”

Chapter Twenty

“You’re lying,” I said without considering the consequences. “He wouldn’t—”

“He did.”

“No!”

Rain began to pound the roof as if the heavens themselves had grieved and torn apart. I shook my head as the sound grew louder, trying to make sense of something…anything. “Wallace wouldn’t hurt a fly, and you know it.”

“Now
.” Cole straightened and rolled his shoulders back. “You should’ve known him back then.”

“I don’t believe you,” I whispered into the darkness. I didn’t know where I was getting the nerve to talk back, but I couldn’t stand to hear what he was saying. It was wrong, impossible.

He walked toward the windows, careful to avoid the streetlight’s glow as rainwater slid down the jagged glass in streaks, dripping onto the floor. Had I upset him again? I couldn’t afford to make this situation any worse—not when he held my life in his hands.

In His hands...

The phrase left a crack in my subconscious, just wide enough for guilt to slip in. Anyone else in my position would’ve been praying, pleading in a silent vigil for the past hour, and what had I been doing? Provoking my captor.

I blew out an uneasy breath and tilted my head back, picturing the nighttime sky.
I guess this is what I get for walking away, huh?
Left here to die.
Is this the kind of trial You expect me to find joy in?

My brows drew together, and I closed my eyes. The words felt like déjà vu. I’d screamed empty accusations just like them after Ari died, but they hadn’t made me feel better then, either.

Look, I’m sorry I let things get this way between us. I never meant to push You away after everything that happened. I just…well, you know. If You’re listening, I could really use Your help.

I was afraid to add
Amen
, like it would sever the connection between us. Sweat dampened my hairline, and I stole another glance across the room. Cole seemed transfixed by something outside.

What was he thinking? He had yet to physically harm me, despite his threats. Was that normal? What were his plans?

Slowly, the raw, seething hatred began to seep from my veins and soak into the mattress. As much as I wanted to see Cole as the enemy, the villain, I couldn’t help but feel like we were forced into these roles. By whom or what, I didn’t know, but there was a missing link somewhere. There had to be.

I’d have to keep him talking, somehow. Maybe if we connected on some level, like I thought we had before, he’d let me go. It was worth a shot. I mean, what did I have to lose at this point? Wallace was our only mutual link and he…

I couldn’t finish the thought.

All the suppression in the world couldn’t keep the murder confession from my mind. As soon as the words were spoken, doubt wrapped itself around my heart and squeezed. I’d come full circle then, cowering at the thought of the madman.

“Two days, zero hours, thirteen minutes, and forty-three seconds,” Cole muttered from across the room.

“What?”

The bed shifted, and I flinched. He’d caught me off guard again. In the blink of an eye, he’d crossed the distance between us and sat with his back to me, leaning over his knees. “Nothing. So, is it sinking in yet?”

“Is what sinking in?”

“My brother. You don’t know him like you thought you did, right?” He fell back over my lap, staring up at the ceiling. “That’s a bummer.”

Uncomfortable didn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I was utterly powerless, doing my best not to squirm beneath him. “Cole.” I could barely hear my whisper over the thumping in my chest. “Just tell me why I’m here. I’ll help you however I can—just give me something to work with.”

I felt him stiffen as he turned to scrutinize me. “You would help me?”

“Yes,” I answered a little too quickly, eager to get on his good side. “I mean, it wasn’t all an act, was it? When you came to change my tire? You’re not a bad person…”

“Don’t be so naïve.” The faint light played over his angular features and gleamed in his eyes. “I’m a bad person, I just didn’t plan this.”

I raised an eyebrow without thinking.
Right, so the bed and handcuffs were already here? Unlikely.

“Not until I saw you yesterday,” he added, practically reading my mind. “I’d been trying to find a way to get through to him, but he was cutting me off at every pass. He wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Wallace? Why?”

He studied me for a moment, knitting his brows. “We lead different lives now. He doesn’t like what I do.”

“What do you do?” I asked.

“I’m in commercial real estate.” He gestured at the dilapidated ruins around us. “I do a little moonlighting on the side.”

So
that’s
how he arranged this setup. I should’ve known. He didn’t strike me as the squatting type. “Wait. What do you mean by moonlighting?”

He appeared almost sympathetic, pressing his lips into a grim line. “What’d I say about knowing things?”

I looked away. “Sorry.”

“You can’t help it, can you? You’re a kitten with the backbone of a tiger.” He chuckled under his breath.

The stomach cramps were back. Just when I thought I’d made progress…

He stood up and retrieved something from his pocket.

“I’m up for calling again. How about you?” Tapping a few quick buttons, he dialed the number and put it on speaker. The phone crackled with a weak connection as it rang and rang to no avail.

“Hey, this is Wallace,” the recording answered. “I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave your name and number, and I’ll get back to you. Thanks.”
Beep.

“Hey, bro! I’m a little disappointed you haven’t gotten back to me. If you don’t get here soon, you might miss Rena.” He paused before adding, “A shame, too, ‘cause she’s just dying to see ya.”

I swallowed as he tapped the end button, the implications of his words left lingering in the air.

“I hate this,” he sighed, and something glinted in the light as he moved toward me. “Why’s he so stubborn?”

Slow, glacial panic crept up through my chest, freezing everything in its wake. I couldn’t move. “What’re you—”

“Listen.” He knelt at my bedside and put a cautious hand on my shoulder. “Hold very still for me, okay?”

That’s when I saw the blade in his other hand. My eyes widened, and I jerked against the handcuffs. “N-No…no!”

“Shh…” He lightly traced his fingertips over my collarbone, up the side of my neck, and along my jaw line. Finally, he placed two fingers over my mouth, silencing my cries. “It’s just an incentive.”

I shivered at his touch, trying to convey frantic protests with my eyes. What the hell was he going to do? My body started shaking, and I couldn’t control it. “Cole,” I began, my lips brushing against his fingers. “Don’t do this.”

“We need a picture,” he stated calmly, shifting his hand to cover my mouth. “Just a little superficial blood. You’ll barely feel it.”

“Mmmph!” I struggled against him, writhing like a fish out of water. Screw being calm and submissive. There was no way in hell I was going down without a fight.

“Rena.” His tone sharpened as he held my head still, knife in hand. “I shit you not. If you keep moving, I’m going to accidentally nick an artery, and you really
will
die. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Unshed tears stung my eyes as I stilled, unable to stop trembling. I gave a slight nod and watched with absolute horror. This wasn’t me. None of this was happening.

The blade flashed again, and a second later, I felt the red-hot slash across my neck. My scream was almost inaudible, muffled, and suffocated beneath his grasp.

On instinct, I made to clutch at the wound and clanked my cuffs against the bar.
Damn it!
I hissed against his hand, glowering up at the phone he held before me.
Click.
I heard the image capture and shot my murderous gaze back to him. “Mmmphmamo.”

“Pardon?” He smiled, retracting his hand.

“Way to go,” I repeated in a hiss. “Sending Wallace evidence now?”

“A murderer reporting a kidnapping.” He pressed a few buttons on his phone before pocketing it. “You are so cute.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed my mind. Then again, the only thing I could concentrate on at the moment was the aching throb in my neck. It wasn’t bad enough that he crammed a damn needle in there. Now he’d gone and opened it up.

“Relax.” He closed the knife and shoved it into his back pocket. “It’s just a scratch.”