Loving Lawson (17 page)

I couldn’t focus on my thoughts. I couldn’t hear anything but the rush of my own blood in my ears. But what I felt… it was slowly inching its way into every corner of my being. That repulsed, sick and twisted feeling you get when something horribly indescribable has happened. My head swam and my breathing lightened.

“Fuck,” I muttered before I bent over and threw up.

I just killed a man. Oh, my fuck. I just killed a man.

The nausea hit me hard. I fell on my knees and heaved until my stomach ached. Then I wiped my mouth and stared at the man I killed. In that moment I felt like my life was over. I was going to be put away for this. I was going to rot in prison while the best years of my life faded into oblivion.

Allie.

Fucking Allie.

I felt a pinch in my chest. I wasn’t surprised to feel it. Because it was telling me that I didn’t want anything to happen to her if I got put away. Who would look after her? Who would take her in and help her? She would be completely on her own in a piece of shit town with a baby I convinced her to keep.

I sat back, continuing to stare at what was left of Ricardo. That fucker had it coming. I didn’t want this. I didn’t come here to kill a human being, even if that human being was clearly a piece of shit that didn’t deserve the oxygen in his lungs.

I tore my eyes away from him and stared up at the sky blanketed by clouds. The rain was coming. Which was good. I needed this huge patch of blood to disappear somehow.
And the body.

Yeah, and the goddamn fucking body. Shit.

How was I going to do this and get away with it? What the fuck do you do with a dead body? I wasn’t even sure I could stomach carrying the bastard in my arms without vomiting again.

This was too surreal. I almost felt like I wasn’t even inside my body going through the motions. I was staring at myself from another angle: at a man that was covered in blood and bruises, gazing out into the empty fields around him like the lost soul, unrecognizable soul he’d become.

Eventually, I got up. Operating solely on that adrenaline, I left him behind and went to the house. The door was still partially opened. I slowly walked up the porch steps. I knew nobody was inside. If there was, they’d have come out when they heard the gun shots.

Still. I was being extra cautious. I very slowly stepped inside. Immediately walking into a living area kind of space, only it was empty save for a television on the ground and an Xbox attached to it. I took some more steps inside and turned into the kitchen. Beer bottles and empty soda cups were littered on the cracked kitchen counter.

Continuing, I made my way down the hallway and pushed open the only bedroom door there was. As I stepped in my boot hit something hard. I paused and looked down at a black duffel bags. I bent down, ignoring the nerve pain in my lower back and tried to pick it up. Fuck, it was heavy.

Instead of picking it up, I kneeled down and unzipped it. Spreading it open, I peered inside and saw a sea of green. Packed to the very top, hundred dollar bills were stacked together in bundles. I picked one bundle up and flipped through the notes, swallowing hard at the hundreds flashing before me.

Holy shit.

The prick had all the money in the world and he was being stingy over my pathetic shortfall? But then again he’d said I was being made to fail, and that was a very unsettling thought.

With a heavy sigh, I tried to think this through. I wasn’t meant to come around until tomorrow. Nobody would suspect his death was on my shoulders. If this duffel bag went missing… Well, then it might just look like a robbery gone bad. Surely with a gang this prominent they would have a lot of enemies. And what kind of tension would this kind of robbery cause?

It could very well create a chain reaction. And if they were too busy searching for somebody else, then maybe I’d be pushed into the background. That was the only thing I could think of in my nearly lost mind.

I got up and took the duffel bag with me, making sure to pick up the envelope sitting on the porch. I stuffed it in the bag and hurriedly made my way to the truck.

              I drove back into town. Paranoia ate at me with every turn I made. I stared at myself in the rear view mirror. I looked guilty and… changed somehow. I tensed every time I passed a car, feeling as though eyes had descended upon me and I was being watched. I wasn’t sure I breathed most of the way home.

              The air grew thinner when I stopped at a set of traffic lights and turned my head out the window to see a police car parked beside me. As if sensing my stare, the police officer turned his head and looked straight at me. I clutched the steering wheel tighter and waited for him to see it. To see all I’d done. To look at me and know I was a guilty son of a bitch that just stomped a man to death. Hell, my clothes were still carrying his blood.

              All he had to do was pull me over.

              The police officer stared… and every second felt like an eternity. My heart had stopped, my sweat had doubled, and all thoughts ceased.

              The lights turned green, and the officer simply nodded at me. Then he drove off, never stopping once, never turning on his lights. He disappeared around a corner and I just stalled there, in the empty street, wondering how the fuck he didn’t see it.

              Until it occurred to me. While I could feel it, they couldn’t see it. I was just another invisible man. Nothing suspect about me. And there was something strangely empowering about that.

              You’re going to be alright.

              It might have seemed premature to assume that, but… I felt it in my bones.

              Everything was going to be okay.

              Finally, I pressed down on the gas and hurried home to her.

Allie

I found him sitting on the shower floor. The water beat down on him as he stared on with a void expression on his face. I didn’t even think he saw me enter the steamy bathroom. He’d been sitting in here for the last fifty minutes since coming home. He hadn’t said a word to me. But I saw the state of him. Something had gone seriously wrong.

              I threw my clothes off and entered the shower stall. I sank down on the ground beside him, just outside the water’s edge, and leaned into him. His body was burning hot to the touch, and incredibly raw with bruises. Some of them were dark, and others were red and fresh. I grabbed the washcloth and soaked it in hot water before trailing it over his arms. All the while I stared at the solemn look on his face.

              “What happened?” I whispered to him, dragging the washcloth very lightly over his chest.

              He barely shook his head in response.

              “Heath.”

              “You don’t want to know, Allie.”

              His grave words unnerved me. “Do we have to run?”

              He turned his face to me. Those brown eyes took me in. Slowly the impassiveness washed away, replaced by a gentle look that instantly put me at ease. His rough hand went to my face. He pulled me forward and kissed me, lightly flicking his tongue against my mouth. It was one of the most intimate kisses he’d ever given me.

              His arms then took hold of my body, bringing me into the water so my back rested against his front. He trailed kisses from my head down to my bare shoulders, pushing aside my wet hair for better access. I relaxed into him.

              “Something incredible happened,” he said into my ear. “I realized it today.”

              My breath thinned at his touch as I asked, “What did you realize?”

              Squeezing me gently, he answered, “I’ve fallen in love with you, Allie. I’ve never felt more like home than when I’m holding you. You make everything so much brighter. You’re the centre of my world, and have been since you came to me.”

              I shut my eyes at his words. Tears threatened to spill out.

              “Nothing is ever going to happen to you,” he continued. “You’re safe with me. Today showed me I’m capable of doing anything, and with that kind of ability I know I’ll always be able to take care of you.”

              I nodded.

              “Everything is going to be okay.”

              I was like jelly in his arms. He had become the centre of my life too. I trusted Heath more than I’d ever trusted anyone in my life. It was like being given a gift to hear him say he’d fallen for me. Never in a million years would I have envisioned this, and I got a rush just thinking of all the good there was between us. Nothing would be there to threaten us apart, because Heath wasn’t a selfish man like his brother.

              “I’m going to visit Ryker,” I let out sometime later. “It’s time for me to set the record straight.”

              He nodded and kissed me again on the shoulder.

              “I want to be with you, Heath.”

              “We’ll make it happen. Whatever comes our way, we’ll make it happen.”

              I smiled softly at his optimism. I wanted him badly. However wrong it seemed, I was coming to terms with how right it felt. Heath was worth fighting for.

Just then a weird, bubbly sensation was felt in my lower stomach. I brought my hands down over it and concentrated on the feeling. I stared down at my belly and my heart leaped as a small part of it jutted out.

“Heath,” I said breathlessly, taking his hand and placing it over my bump. “Feel that?”

He was quiet for a minute, concentrating. When the small poke-like feeling returned, he chuckled softly, murmuring, “Holy shit, Allison. I feel him.”

I smiled wider than ever. “Thank you for experiencing this with me.”

With a shake of his head, he replied solemnly, “Thank
you
for choosing me to share it with.”

When the water turned cold, he carried me out and held me.

Held me like he was desperate to never let me go.

Ryker

I was drunk.

Stumblin’ down the street, sight hazy, footsteps slow.

Fucking fantastic night, though.

Truly epic.

Cindy was hot as hell. Bending over the way she did for me. Fuck, that was good. Pure submission. Chose me over Heath, and the look on his face… Heh. That was better than the pleasure I felt when I fucked her deep.

              I loved girls. While Heath may have been better looking than me, he was a one woman kind of guy. If he was screwing someone, he was doing it for a good while before he was over it and moving on to someone else.

              Not me.

              I was fucking them left, right and centre.

              I was a good looking guy. Chicks wanted me. I was the attainable Lawson brother. The one that they lined up for, waiting for their go. And these were beautiful girls. Not plain Janes who didn’t glance at the mirror right before they stepped out. I’m talkin’ hot chickies, in skin tight jeans and breasts perched high, hair flowing down their back, plump lips glossy red, and eyes glistening with want.

              I used them. I loved the thrill of it. Loved feeling like I was superior to my brother. Growing up with him had felt like one giant competition. Heath always seemed to be better than me at everything.

              Sports? He scored all the goals.

              Looks? He had the genetics of a quarterback, meanwhile I had the body of a tennis player. No amount of lifting weights could cut me closer to his physique, and I knew it was because we had different fathers.

              School? Bastard had dyslexia and still got better grades than me.

              Family? He was Mom’s favourite. Our cousins preferred his company to mine. Everyone looked up to him even though he hadn’t accomplished jack shit.

              Strength? He was the fighter. I was the one on the side, watching him knock out guy after guy knowing I could never be on the receiving end of that fist and have a chance.

              But girls? He didn’t know how to be in a relationship. He couldn’t commit. And while I wasn’t interested in relationships, I knew what a girl wanted. I knew how to shower them with affection, make them feel like they were wanted. I didn’t discard them, or put a line in the sand that said, “We’re just fuck buddies. We’re not in a relationship. We’re not even friends.”

              So I worked with what I got. With what I seemed to excel at. And it worked tonight.

I suspected that was why Heath decided to be a dick, taking off without even asking if I had a goddamn lift home. Left me to walk the streets in the middle of the night on my own. At least… I didn’t think anyone was out here.

I stopped and looked around, just to make sure. I didn’t like the fucking dark. Another thing Heath was responsible for. Scarin’ me all those years as a kid. I learned you never knew what was lurking in the shadows.

I pulled out my pocketknife. Hedley was no place to be at night. Unless you were a guy and in a group, you better be watching your back every step of the way.

But whatever, man. I wasn’t some pussy. At seventeen years old I felt like a grown man. Life hadn’t been easy. Especially when Mom died six months ago. In a blink of an eye she was there one second and then gone the next.

Fuck you, cancer.

We were making it by. One pay check at a time, anyway. I was forced to grow up faster. Forced to take on responsibilities a kid shouldn’t have to. As a result, I was angry and the tension between that knob of a brother and me was always high. Just because Mom was dead, that didn’t mean he could tell me what to do. I was out working like him. I was earning some money to help us make it by. At the end of the day I was entitled to live however the fuck I wanted to.

“Help.”

I stopped. I swore I heard something. I looked around again, at the dark buildings along this street.

“Please.”

I spun around, and instantly my stomach churned at the movement. After a night of heavy drinking, any sudden movements were going to be the death of me. Bile rose up my throat. I bent over and dry heaved, taking small steps forward until my head hit the brick wall of a dark shop. I breathed in and out for a good while, fighting the sudden cold sweat that broke.

Why the fuck did I drink? I asked myself.

“Help,” I heard again.

God, was I hearing shit?

I stood up straight and kept a hand against the wall. I took small steps, slowly making my way closer to where it was coming from. It was a male voice, and it sounded weak and deep. Maybe intoxicated? I’d just leave him if he was. I had to take care of my own drunken ass first.

I turned into an alleyway, the smell of garbage coming on strong. I breathed through my mouth as I stared hard into the darkness, waiting for the man to come into view. With every step, I squinted harder, until I could recognize the outline of a person. He was a big guy, I could tell, and I stopped halfway to him and glanced around cautiously.

This could be a setup. Maybe a way to get to my wallet. Not that the fuckers would find much save for a five dollar bill and a fake ID.

“What’s the matter with you?” I found myself asking, turning my attention back to the man. His back was against the wall, his legs spread out on the ground.

“H-hurt,” he stammered out, shaking his head from side to side.

“Where?” I pressed.

“Everywhere. N-neck mostly.”

              “What happened? Why are you here?”

              He coughed weakly before whispering, “T-they dumped me here for a little while. They could be coming back any second. Get me out. P-please, get me out.”

Dumped him? I took a step closer, shaking my head to get some clarity in. “Who dumped you? Who is coming back?”

“V-very bad men.”

Even drunk, my instincts were clear. I needed to turn back and get out of here. Clear the fuck away from this man before he dragged me down into some shit I didn’t need to be in. I’d done well keeping away from the bad this town was infested with. Last thing I needed to happen was get involved in some hit – because let’s be fucking clear here, this was obviously one. This man had taken a beating, and they were coming back for more.

              I took a step back and began to shake my head at him. My mouth opened to refuse his help when the loud sound of multiple footsteps emerged from behind me. Voices littered the air, and before I even managed to turn halfway, laughter sounded out. The words, “The fucker brought back up,” were heard.

              “No –” I began to say, but it was too late. A hand gripped the side of my head. I let out a sharp breath, stunned with fear as he smashed my head against the wall.

              All went black.

*

I stirred, feeling the worst pain in humankind in my skull. I was sitting upright on something hard. My back felt stiff, my neck ached, and my arms… Something was fucking wrong with my arms!

              I opened my eyes to darkness. Something was covering them, and by reflex I tried to remove the cloth. The feeling of claustrophobia immediately hit when I found I couldn’t move my hands. My wrists were tied, tugging my arms so far back behind the horrible chair I was sitting on. I couldn’t even kick. My feet were just as tightly forced in place against the legs of the chair. Freaked out, I tried thrashing around. Maybe I could break apart the chair. It groaned and moved along the hard ground. It took me no time before I was sweating like a pig. My head throbbed and soon I was swimming in dizziness.

              What the fuck –

              “Don’t tire yourself out, boy,” came a rough voice. “You ain’t going nowhere.”

              I froze. Every bit of me was on high alert. Whoever was in the room was uncomfortably close.

              “What’s going on?” I demanded, more angry than afraid. “Why the fuck am I here? I’ve done nothing wrong –”

              “Don’t be dumb. He called you for backup, didn’t he?”

              “Nobody called me for backup. I was walking home from a party! I was drunk, man. I don’t know shit –”

              “So then why was your ass in that alleyway?”

              “Some guy was calling for help. I went to see what the hell was going on.”

              He chuckled. “Either you’re the dumbest, unluckiest redneck boy I ever did see, or you’re trying to play me for a fool. Which is it?”

              I shook my head as that anger grew by the second. “I’m not dumb or lying. I’m not a
boy
either.”

              “No?”

              “No!” I was seeing red now. “Get me the hell out of here!”

              The fuckhead chuckled again. Oh, what I would give to have my hands on this bastard! I went hysterical, trying to get out of the chair. Having no concept of where I was or who I was dealing with, I became overheated and panicked. I felt like I was in a tiny box and the walls were slowly closing in on me.

              “Calm the hell down. Jesus, you’re making
me
uncomfortable.”

              “Then untie me!”

              I heard shuffling sounds. Then footsteps. A hand gripped the cover around my eyes and tore it off. I blinked rapidly as light flooded into my vision, temporarily blinding me. Slowly objects began to form before me as I blinked away the stars.

              I was in a cement room. Maybe a cellar. Fear shot through me as a face came into view, staring at me with a wicked smile on his face. The man was bald, had a light greying beard and shiny blue eyes. There was an unforgiving hardness about him, and I knew suddenly everything about my life was about to change. Either I’d die… or I’d fucking pay somehow for going to that injured man in the alleyway.

              “What’s wrong?” the man said with a raised brows. “Don’t seem so tough now, huh? You know who I am, boy?”

              I barely breathed as I shook my head slightly.

              The man leaned over, whispering, “I can be your friend… or I can be your worst fucking nightmare.”

              I didn’t reply. I could feel the sweat slide down my cheeks, giving away my anxiety.

              “Which one do you want to be?” he asked, walking over to a makeshift table where a long line of knives lay.

              Bloody fucking hell.

“Look,” I said, gulping hard, “I haven’t lied to you. I’m just some drunk fuck that stumbled across a man that called for help.”

              “You sure about that?”

              I shook as I adamantly replied, “Man, I’m a hundred percent sure.”

              He picked up a yellow ended Spyder knife and turned back to me. There was a shine in those eyes as he strolled casually over to me, carefully looking at my face as he slowly roamed his fingers up and down the blade. He was trying to fuck me up with fear. And the fucker was doing a damn good job.

              “How old are you, kid?” he then asked, pulling up a stool to sit next to me.

              “Seventeen.”

              “Seventeen,” he repeated, nodding his head thoughtfully. “Still a fucking baby, hey? What’re you doing walkin’ the streets, drunk off your ass, answerin’ random men in alleyways?”

              “My brother left me behind. Had no taxi money to make it home. Decided to just walk it when I heard him.”

              “Right.”

              I couldn’t tell if he believed me or not. He was impossible to read.

              “You live around that area I found you in?” he wondered.

              “A few blocks away,” I told him.

              “Huh. And that man you saw… Did you recognize him?”

              I tried to remember the face in the alleyway. “It was too dark.”

              “What did he say to you exactly?”

              “That men hurt him, and that they were comin’ back for him.”

              He was quiet for a few moments, staring down at the blade now. I watched as he casually cleaned the dirt from beneath his fingernails, as though this was just another normal event in his day. I wondered if he would think twice about me if he decided to kill me. Or was I just another number to him? Fuck, I needed to think fast.

              “Do you want to know what’s going to happen to him?” the man continued, keeping his eyes drawn on the knife. “He owed me a lot of money. Decided that he wasn’t going to pay according to the timeline I gave him. He’s going to be swinging off a tree branch come mornin’ with a fake fucking suicide note written by him.”

              Jesus Christ. Why was he telling me this?

              “His name was Walter Wallace. Know him?”

              The name was familiar. I knew the family, I realized. Hell, I’d played with the daughter when I was a kid.

I nodded slowly. “Don’t know him personally, but I know about him.”