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Authors: Mimi Harper

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BOOK: The Damaged One
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Chapter
Nine

 

 

Augustus drove around for hours, his thoughts as jumbled as the circle he made repeatedly around the city. Jackie. That was the only coherent thought he had. Jackie.

Somehow, he had abandoned her. Again.

He could still taste her on his lips, still feel her body pressed against his. He could still smell her on his skin. There was still an ache deep inside, in a place that went far beyond the need that had strained his slacks. It was a new ache, one that was vaguely familiar, but so different from what he remembered.

It reminded him of Claire.

The last thing he wanted to remember was Claire.

That was the last time he had abandoned Jackie.

It wasn’t easy to find companionship when your every waking moment was spent on trying to find a way to feed, clothe, and protect three children. Augustus did not have the childhood that most men his age enjoyed. He didn’t go to school dances, didn’t take a pretty cheerleader to the movies. He never made out with some debutante in the back of his father’s Pontiac. He didn’t even know if his father owned a Pontiac.

Augustus never kissed a girl, other than his sisters, until he was well into his twenties.

There simply wasn’t the opportunity.

And then there was Claire.

Augustus and Dave had just begun kicking around the idea of putting together a software company. They met at the junior college where they were both taking night classes. Dave was a genius who played hooky one too many times during high school, so his parents sent him out into the world without support, forcing him to grow up and find his own way. Dave did that in spades. But first he had to get through school. That’s where Augustus came in.

They were in the same study group. Dave and Augustus clicked from the beginning. And Dave was the only one Augustus trusted enough to tell about Charlie, Fontaine, and Jackie. Everyone else thought Augustus was stuck up, too good to go to the parties and the spontaneous coffee dates after class. Dave knew better. And Dave knew that Augustus needed a break. That was why he set him up with his cousin.

Rachel was sweet, but not the kind of girl that made the exhaustion of staying out late on a school night worth the effort. Her roommate, however, was a different story.

Claire was tall, model-thin, with boyish curves that only highlighted the amazing length of her coltish legs. She took his breath away every time he looked at her. When he finally got the courage up to ask her out, he thought his heart would burst with relief. They were rarely apart after that. Claire was at his side the day Pierce-Martin opened its doors, the day Charlie graduated high school, the moment Fontaine learned she had gotten a full scholarship to Brown. She was the one who rushed Jackie to the hospital the day she cut her hand on a broken glass and needed twelve stitches.

He had thought she was there for the long haul. He was wrong.

Jackie was sixteen the first time she was arrested. Tested positive for cocaine.

Augustus was flabbergasted. He couldn’t imagine where Jackie could have gotten such a thing, let alone used it. Claire was less surprised.
She told Augustus that it had only been a matter of time.

“And now that she’s tasted it, she will not stop. So you have to make a choice, Augustus. Do you want to sit back and watch her dig herself an early grave, or do you want to make a good life for yourself? You can’t do both.”

He thought he was doing the right thing. He thought putting Jackie in rehab would fix everything. Watching her scream in that intake room had been the hardest thing he had ever done. He walked away, Claire whispering in his ear that he had done the right thing. But it didn’t work. There was no magic pill, no magic program that could cure what drove Jackie to drugs. Claire couldn’t understand that. And leaving Jackie in that place…it had only made things worse.

Until, finally, he had to make a choice.

Claire or Jackie.

Augustus felt like he was on that same precipice right now.

But this time, the choice was blatantly clear.

Jackie needed him one last time. She needed him to find answers, to understand what took her down this road. He needed to know who had hurt her, who gave her the drugs that took her life. He needed her drug dealer.

The beautiful therapist might know the why, but she didn’t know the who. Only the who mattered now.

It was time to move on.

Chapter
Ten

 

 

He was still asleep when his phone rang the next morning. It was nearly dawn when he finally came limping back to the hotel and it took hours for his head to stop, for that inner voice to finally give him a break and shut up. So, he was asleep a little after noon when Foster finally got around to calling.

“Sorry it took so long,” Foster mumbled in his familiar ass-kissing tone.

“Whatcha got?” Augustus grunted.

“I found the therapist. She lives in an industrial park between Houston and Katy.”

“I know.”

“She works for Magick Ads—”

“I know that, too.”

Foster hesitated. “Oh, well,” he finally said. “I, uh, talked to one of the cops in Denton again. He told me a few things about the investigation that was off the record.”

Augustus rolled over, more interested in finding a comfortable position than what the investigator had to say. So far he hadn’t said anything Augustus hadn’t learned on his own.

“Unless it has something to do with the dealer, I’m not really interested.”

“Well,” Foster mumbled again. “I—that’s exactly what it’s about.”

Augustus sat up. “What do you meant?”

“The detective told me that they were interested in the dealer, too. There had been quite a few deaths in the few months leading up to Luck
—” he caught himself and cleared his throat. “Around the time Jackie died,” he finished.

“And?”

“And they wanted to find the dealer to see if there was something in the drugs he was selling that was causing the overdoses. But no one would talk. And then the boyfriend puts this bug in their ears about the therapist.”

“She’s not the dealer,” Augustus said, dismissing the idea even as it formed in his mind. “She’s too straight.”

“No, they never thought that,” Foster agreed. “But when they were talking to her in their initial interviews, they noticed that she got fidgety every time they brought the subject up. This cop I talked to, he even noticed that she would start picking at her nails whenever they brought it up. That told him she knew something.”

“She could have just been nervous.”

“I said that,” Foster said. “When I was a cop, people would get nervous for all kinds of reasons during an interrogation and it rarely had anything to do with the subject at hand.”

“So?” Augustus said, waving his had around as though Foster could see him and understand he wanted him to get to the point.

“This cop waited for her in the parking lot outside the psych building one night. He’s a good-looking guy, though he might be able to flirt with her a little, trick her into admitting more than she was willing to give them at the station. And she did…a little.”

“What does any of this have to do with the dealer?”

“Because she knows.” Foster chuckled, as though the idea was highly amusing. “She actually fell for this guy’s charms and told him what a great girl Lucky was and how sad she was about what happened to her. But she insisted the dealer didn’t do anything to hurt her or anyone else. Insisted
he
wouldn’t do that.”

Augustus felt ice water run through his veins for the second time in twelve hours.

“She knows,” Foster repeated. “She knows who the dealer is.”

Chapter Eleven

 

 

He was leaning against the hood of her Jeep when she came outside the next morning, two cups of coffee in his hands. He wasn’t sure how he would feel when he saw her again, but he hadn’t expected a fist to squeeze his heart or the light morning breeze to run off with his breath.

She seemed relaxed in jeans and a fitted graphic tee. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, giving her an air of innocence. He thought he should go help her when she turned to slam the heavy door, but she had it closed before he could even push away from the car. And then she turned and her eyes fell on his.

If he had expected her to be pleased to see him, he had been wrong.

Fear darkened her eyes while tension flooded her shoulders.

“Morning,” he called, holding up the coffee. “I didn’t know how you like it so I got black and one with cream and sugar.”

She stepped back as though she expected him to toss the hot fluid into her face. She bit her lip, her hand pulling a cellphone from her front jeans pocket. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I felt bad for leaving so abruptly the other night,” he lied. “So I thought I would try to make it up to you.”

She continued to stare at him, her knuckles white where her fingers were wrapped around that phone. “Why did you leave?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually.” He stepped forward, leaning against the rail that ran along the ramp where she stood. “I just—I realized that I didn’t even know your name. And I liked you too much to treat you that way.”

Some color came into her cheeks as she considered his words. Then, slowly, the tension began to leave her shoulders. “I thought you said it was rare for you to be a gentleman.”

“It is,” he said with a grin he knew had amazing powers over women. “That’s why you should appreciate when it happens. It’s not likely to happen again.”

A smile brightened her face, almost like a flower bud opening to the warmth of the sun. She stepped forward, the phone disappearing into her pocket again as she lay her hands beside his on the railing.

“Black,” she said.

Augustus’ eyebrows rose. “Hmm,” he said with a slight frown. “I guess we’re going to have to fight over it then.”

“Hey, you said I could choose
—”

“Just kidding.” He winked. “I can’t actually admit that I like cream and sugar in my coffee, can I?”

She laughed. Again it was like the tinkle of bells. It rained down over him, making him want to stand taller, to suck in his gut, and present her his best side. It made him want to touch her and to feel her touch on his skin.

He had to shake himself and remember that he was here for a reason.

“I don’t suppose you have time for breakfast?”

She glanced toward the street, as though the increasing traffic told her the time. “I should really get to the office.”

Augustus inclined his head slightly. “Yeah, I’ve got a meeting, too. But listen,” he leaned forward a little, looking down at the ground as though he were suddenly overcome with nervousness, “could we get together later. For dinner, maybe?”

She ran her hand over the back of his as she slipped the coffee cup from his grasp. “I’d like that.”

“You would?”

He looked up, pleased with the light dancing in her eyes and the flush that now spread from her cheeks to her throat, her breasts. If there was one thing Augustus knew, it was how to manipulate a woman into agreeing to anything he wanted.

She smiled again, nodding her head with a little too much enthusiasm.

She walked down the ramp, her hips swinging just enough to make him wonder what it looked like when she tugged on a tight pair of pants. Or tugged them off.

“Toby,” she called as she paused in the motion of climbing into her Jeep.

“What?”

“My name.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Toby,” he said, nearly choking over the name as he stepped to her side. “I’m Augustus.”

“I know,” she said before she climbed inside the Jeep and drove away.

Chapter Twelve

 

 

Augustus realized as he pulled into Toby’s driveway for the second time that day, that he had not been on a date in three years. Dates were for people looking for
commitment. Augustus’ interest had been more along the lines of bed partners, not life partners.

She was wearing another short skirt, this one a black and white pattern that made Augustus’ head spin
. He was unsure if that was because the pattern was a geometric disaster or because it was so short that he could imagine what would happen if she bent over. Her blouse was not much better for Augustus’ equilibrium. It was a simple white blouse with tiny pearl-like buttons down the front. But it was so tight over her ample breasts that one of the buttons was straining against the material. And he could see her black bra underneath, a touch that left little to the imagination. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed when she pulled on a light V-neck sweater.

“Ready?”

She nodded even as she stepped back to grab a small bag off the kitchen counter. Augustus laid his hand on the center of her back to guide her out the door, feeling again that tingle of electricity that seemed to shoot through him each time they touched.

They drove to an expensive, but out of the way, Italian restaurant in downtown Houston. The maître d complimented Toby’s outfit, shooting Augustus an atta-boy look as he left them at their table. Toby shook her head as she watched him walk away.

“That takes nerve.”

“What?
” Augustus raised his eyebrows, turning to follow her line of vision. “He was just flirting.”

“He has no idea what our relationship is. What if we had just gotten married, or something?”

“Do you want me to go punch him in the nose?” he asked, turning back to her.

Toby seemed to really consider the idea. Finally, she shook her head. “I don’t want him to spit in our food or something.”

“You still want to eat here?” Augustus pretended to be outraged by the idea. “How can we eat somewhere where we’ve been so disrespected?” He began to raise his voice. “I should demand restitution. A free bottle of wine or something.”

Toby grabbed his hand as he began to raise it to call a waiter. “Stop,” she said as she dissolved into giggles. “My pride will survive.”

“Are you sure?”

Toby
nodded, unable to speak as the giggles continued to flow. Augustus chuckled, too.

The waiter interrupted with a description of the evening’s specials. Augustus and Toby both chose the chicken alfredo. To complement the food, Augustus ordered a nice pinot grigio. The wine was good for an Italian bistro in the middle of the Gulf Coast and it seemed to have a relaxing effect on Toby.

Conversation was a little stilted at first. She was still cautious, as though she expected Augustus to do something violent at any moment. He brushed the back of her hand once while they were both reaching for a piece of bread. She jerked back and then caught herself, offering a soft smile in apology. It made Augustus wonder what she thought he wanted from her.

But, again, he found himself wondering the same thing.

“Did you grow up around here?” he asked.

She nodded. “Mostly in the Katy area.”

“Your parents are still here?”

Again she nodded, though she didn’t look up. Her eyes were fixated on her fingers as she ran them slowly up and down the stem of her wine glass. Augustus watched for a minute, too, fixated on the idea of what her fingers would look like stroking other things. He shifted in his seat, busying himself with pouring more wine in his own glass.

“My mom and stepdad live here in the city. They moved a few years ago so that my stepdad wouldn’t have to commute so far to his office.”

“What about your dad?”

Toby tilted her head, a certain tension coming into her jaw. “He’s not around anymore.”

“Oh.” Augustus took a sip of wine. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s a good thing, really.” She bit her lip for a second. “He was bad news.”

Augustus nodded. “A lot of that going around.”

She looked up, studying his face for the first time all evening. “What about you?” she asked quietly. “Any family?”

“Just a brother and two sisters,” Augustus said. A knot came to his throat when he realized he still counted Jackie as part of his family. But, again, wouldn’t she always be a part of it, of him?

Silence fell between them. Augustus took another long swallow of his wine, aware that he should slow down, this was already his second glass, but that self-destructive side of him not really caring what he was doing or what the consequences might be. He looked over at Toby, and for a minute all he could see was the woman who was the last person to see his sister alive. It ate at him, making his stomach turn sour even as he fought to swallow the last of his wine.

“Did you always want to be an artist?” he asked, his words clipped and harsh.

Toby didn’t seem to notice. “No,” she said. “It was always a sort of hobby.”

“Then how did you come to work at Magick?”

Now she was picking at a piece of bread, tearing off small sections of buttery garlic sauce and setting it aside on her plate. “I needed a job and I didn’t really want to go back to what I had been doing before.”

“What was that?” Augustus asked, his tone cautious.

“It’s a long story.”

The waiter walked up then with a tray laden with huge plates of pasta. Augustus could have sent the guy sailing, his timing was so bad. He sat back, sliding his empty wine glass out of the way, sending a frustrated look at the waiter. The man seemed to understand because he set their plates down quickly and walked off without going through the familiar rigmarole of making sure they had everything they needed.

“Looks good,” Toby said, allowing the steam to float up to her flushed face as she sniffed the lovely smells.

“Yeah, it does.”

Augustus grabbed his silverware roll, quickly flicking out the napkin and shoving it into his lap as he dug into the food. His appetite had suddenly disappeared even though he couldn’t remember the last time he had sat down to a proper meal. As he pushed fettuccine and chicken around his plate, he tried to figure out how to maneuver the conversation around to drug dealers and dead sisters.

“How did you get into software designing?”

Augustus looked up. It wasn’t an unusual question, he had answered it a million times in the past. Something about the look in Toby’s eyes begged for a little more truth than he had ever offered before, however. Normally he gave some bullshit story about a misspent youth in neighborhood arcades, the expected illusion of laziness turned into a fortune. But it wasn’t true and something told him Toby would know that.

“I was working twelve hour shifts at a fast food restaurant and still not making ends meet. So I decided I needed to learn a skill that could make good money, but wouldn’t require a bachelor’s degree. Computers just seemed to come naturally to me.”

“Logical.”

He glanced at her. “Exactly. It was the first thing in my life that was logical and made sense no matter what was going on in the real world.”

Toby nodded. “That was how I felt about art when I first started doing it. The paint, the canvas, they all made more sense than the chaos in my life.”

Augustus found himself wanting to agree, but he purposely turned back to his pasta. He didn’t want to relate to this woman, to find something in common. He was here for a reason.

“Tell me about that long story.”

Toby paused with a fork of fettuccine halfway to her mouth. “The long story?”

“About what you were doing before Magick.”

“Oh.” She took the bite and chewed slowly, her fingers moving to the stem of her wine glass again. Augustus watched a parade of emotions cross her face, and saw distrust fill her eyes when she looked up at him again. “It’s really not that interesting.”

“I can’t imagine that,” he said with his most charming smile.

Toby shook her head. “Wouldn’t you rather know how I use your fancy app?” A flirty tone came into her voice. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through it until she found what she wanted. She handed it to him, a short video
playing on a loop.

The video showed a small child toddling across someone’s living room floor. The child was giggling as it walked in that drunken sailor sort of way small children have. Then the child lost its balance and fell on the seat of its thin diaper. Then the dirtiest word Augustus had ever heard uttered by an adult, let alone a child, came flying out of the child’s mouth.

Augustus laughed. “That is hilarious.”

“My goddaughter. That was the first word she learned and no matter how hard her mother tries, she cannot make her stop saying it.”

Augustus continued to chuckle as he watched the video a second and third time. “You should put this on the internet. She would be a star overnight.”

Toby smiled as she took her phone back and tucked into her small bag. “Her mother would kill me.”

Augustus speared a piece of chicken, but paused before putting it into his mouth. “Well, at least the kid understands when to use that word.”

Toby giggled. “She’s a smart kid.”

They talked a little about kids, about the trend of making short videos and posting them on the internet, of overnight stars created on websites like YouTube and the Vine. Toby found it all a little sad, worried what the overexposure of teenagers was doing to the next generation of politicians and business leaders. Augustus could hardly object to the practice, since it was part of what drove his current app design and sales. But he had to agree to a certain degree. He could only imagine what overexposure might have done to Jackie.

Augustus’ phone beeped as the waiter was taking their empty plates away. He pulled it out and found a text message from Fontaine.

“When will you be home?”

Augustus typed back:
“IDK. Why?”

“Problem?”

Augustus glanced at Toby. “Sorry. Business.”

She nodded, pulling out her own phone as though trying to show him he wasn’t the only one with a life. Fontaine came back a moment later.

“Worried about you. You don’t normally go off the grid for so long.”

Augustus didn’t know how to answer that. It was his job to take care of them, not the other way around. He rarely needed to do that anymore. Charlie was a lawyer now, with a good job at an old, established firm. He was on the fast track to partnership despite being ten years younger than most of his competition. And he had a live
-in girlfriend Augustus almost envied him for. Fontaine was doing well, too, running her own interior decorating business. She got married last year and was expecting her first child in a few months.

There was no reason for her to worry about him.

Augustus stared at his phone, trying to figure out how to respond. He knew Fontaine worried, especially now. But he didn’t want her wasting her energy on him. Finally, he typed,
“Just business. Be home soon.”

What else could he say? That he was having dinner with the last person to see Jackie alive? That he’s politely eating with the woman who knows who the dealer was who provided Jackie with the drug that killed her?
That he intended to do whatever was necessary to learn the truth and make sure someone paid for Jackie’s death?

He wasn’t sure all that would fit in a text message.

BOOK: The Damaged One
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