South Row (16 page)

The prick is probably dick deep in blonde pussy, not giving a damn about me. I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I love him.

Even after all this bullshit, I still love him. Why can’t I stop?

I pull into a lane with a dumpster blocking the entrance. It’s dark and there’s probably more to be scared of here than out on the street, in the open, but I don’t care. My lungs are about to give out and I need a good cry.

My back thuds against the wall as I try to hold myself up from falling. I gasp for air even as I wail out my sadness and close brush with rape and possibly death. I cry for everything I have lost with Collin but never really had. I cry because I’m still in love with him. I cry because Fletcher chose me. I cry because he hit me and choked me. I cry because I got away. And I cry because my feet hurt like a bitch.

When I’m all cried out, I hop on my aching feet back to the main street and step in the way of a police cruiser.
Thank God.

We drive for an hour before we get a call from South’s boss to meet him at Totem. Connor and I carpooled as we scoured the areas between Totem and South’s apartment in search of her. Sending out a text to the others, I tell them to meet us there.

When I realized that South had gone missing, I immediately left the party, telling Liam and Kaylee that a friend of mine was missing. Liam looked at me suspiciously, but I didn’t give a fuck. Kaylee tried to kiss me but I dodged her effort and she got my cheek. Then, she told me to be careful. I didn’t care about that either. All that mattered was finding my girl and doing everything in my power to get her forgiveness.

All seven of us had split into groups. Wyatt and Johann were parked up outside of her apartment waiting for any sign of her or any sign of life in her apartment. Luke, Lydia and Scott were searching in the direction of Totem and its neighboring streets.

I couldn’t drive. I was so mad at myself for not handling things the way they should have been handled; for leaving her out there alone and unprotected. Connor tried to encourage me, to console me, but I was beyond consolation. I just wanted to find her. I sat in the passenger seat brooding and mentally kicking my ass while we searched, but our search turned up empty.

The only hope we had was that her phone was still on. Every time we dialed it, it rang out with no answer. If she was kidnapped, or worse, whoever had her would make sure her cell was turned off, right?

So with that hope in mind, we pull up at Totem Pole and we all file into Trace’s office.

Without acknowledging any of us, Trace launches into it, “I’ve been tracking her phone.”

Fuck, why didn’t I think of that?
Because you’re an idiot?
Fuck you, voice in my head. Yes, folks, I’m going crazy.

“The signal stopped moving here,” Trace informs us, tapping a blinking red dot on his laptop screen. “We can only hope she’s there. I’ll be coming, along with my boys. You know, for muscle and fire power.”

I nod my agreement and we head back out to our respective vehicles. We load up and are about to drive, when the panicked shout of Lydia rings out.

“Lynnie! Oh, my God, where are you?”

Like rapid fire, we all disembark our vehicles and run over to Lydia. Tears are running down her face as she tries to talk to South.

“Please, baby, I can hardly understand you. Where are you?” she asks.

I want to snatch the phone from her and hear Red’s voice for myself, but I don’t want to scare her off, in case she pulled this disappearing act because she was mad at me. My hands shake with nervousness and elation. She’s not hurt. She’s okay. She’s okay.

“Where?”

She’s okay. Breathe, Collin, she’s okay.

Connor rests a hand on my shoulder and gives me a small smile of encouragement. I take it with rapid nods and breathe out.

She’s okay.

“The police?”

So, she’s not really okay.

“We’re coming to get you,” Lydia tells her. “Yes, bitch “we”. We have all been worried sick about you.” She hangs up and before she can utter a word, she is crying.

Luke embraces her as she cries and it is taking everything out of me to not walk over there and shake her so she can tell me where South is.

Finally, she wipes her nose and composes herself enough. “She’s at SFPD on Fillmore,” she croaks out.

I’m just glad she’s somewhere safe.

**********

We pull up at San Francisco Police Department and race inside. Trace had advised his muscle to check out the location of her cell phone since she had called straight from the station and her cell signal didn’t match her whereabouts. I agreed. I just hoped that she wasn’t in some kind of danger or hurt.

As we step in through doors, we spot South with a bunch of uniforms around her. They’re laughing at something she’s said and hanging on to every word that falls from her sweet lips. They
’re enraptured by her and I don’t blame them. She has that effect on people. On me.

She is wrapped in a wool blanket as she speaks and a bad feeling settles over me. As if she knows I’m here, she perks up and her eyes find mine. Both of us gasp at the same time but for completely different reasons.

I’m not sure why she had that reaction to me, but I know the reason for mine. One side of South’s face is swollen and her lip is split open. The blanket slips down her shoulders and I see bruises peeking up from her turtle-neck blouse. Her hair is a mess and she is barefoot; her white spike-studded shoes right next to her feet.

She was more than just “in danger”. Someone wanted to hurt her, to kill her.

Striding angrily over to her, I recognize that I am being held back. I stop and the bodies holding me back jerk forward suddenly.

“Dude, wait a minute,” Luke says as he straightens up. I shoot him a killing glare and he steps back.

“We haven’t heard anything yet, bro,” Connor says on my other side. “The cops are talking with Scott, Lydia and Trace.”

I look over to see a tall, bulky man debriefing the trio.  My heart sinks when I hear bits and pieces of what he’s saying.

“Bruises…asphyxiation…hit…rape.”

All the words blur in my head and a wave of anger crashes over me. I am going to kill the son-of-a-bitch, whoever he is. With renewed purpose, I advance on South and she shrinks back like she’s scared of me.
Son-of-a-bitch!

“Who?” I demand. She doesn’t answer.

“Who?” I insist in a hard tone.

“Hey, man, you’re scaring her,” one of the officers informs me.

“This is between her and me. Butt the fuck out,” I dismiss. Turning back to South, I demand, “Now, tell me who did this to you.”

The stubborn woman still refuses to answer, tears pooling in her eyes.

“I’m gonna ask you to step away from the victim, sir,” another officer cautions.

Victim. I hate that fucking word, especially when used to describe my strong warrior. Someone hurt her, fucking marked her. When I’m done with him, he’ll beg for death.

I feel a hand on me and my instincts chip in. I grab the person and throw them down on the floor. Officers leap from their seats and my friends flank my back trying to pull me away. Angry shouts and chaos break out around us and as I look at the person I had on the floor, it is then that I realize what I’ve done. I’ve assaulted a police officer.
Shit.

I am restrained then detained and placed in a holding cell. My friends or brother can’t bail me out until Monday, so I’m stuck here until then. This fucking sucks, but…

South is safe.

She is okay.

**********

The next morning, I hear the shrill voice of my fiancée – someone, shoot me now – followed by the low timbre of my possibly future ex-boss/future ex-
almost-father-in-law. It just keeps getting better and better.

I hardly slept last night, not that I was concerned about my incarceration; but because I was worried about South. She passed by my cell before she left, but said nothing. She just stared at me as she gripped the bars. I was tongue-tied. Behind all the swelling and bruises, I still saw a beautiful redhead who took my breath away. I wanted to reach out to her, but I couldn’t handle the rejection if she had pulled away. Lord knows I’d have deserved it, but I just wouldn’t be able to handle it.

All night I wondered if she was sleeping okay. If she was safe. If she was having nightmares. Wishing I could hold her through the night and sing her back to sleep like her aunt used to do. She’s so precious. Why someone would want to hurt her is beyond me.

I made a few friends, though, including a transvestite prostitute named Shelly who confessed
– in a deeper voice than mine – that he thought I was hot. It’s safe to say that he’s part of the reason I didn't get much sleep. Had to be my own personal butt-police and protect my
assginity
.

Despite the conditions, it was an enlightening night spent in the clinker.

“You better have a good explanation for locking up my future son-in-law, Jefferson,” Liam grumbles.

He’s about to use his power and connections to spring me outta here. It’ll be good to get some sleep, some grub and a shower – not necessarily in that order – but the thought of riding in a car with them and then going home to Kaylee makes me want to stay another night.

After a few minutes of string pulling, I’m out the door with merely a slap on the wrist. It turns out that the cop I assaulted was a rookie cop and didn't know who I was – Golden Boy – but they had to lock me up for show, so that other officers and civilians didn’t think it was okay to assault an officer in uniform. Is it weird that I wanted to have a record so I could show off that I’ve got street cred?

Anyway, this car ride is drilling a hole through my skull. I just need peace and quiet, a comfortable bed, and South. Liam is berating me for
attacking a cop, saying he won’t always be around to bail me out of my bullshit. Kaylee is in the backseat with me, rubbing me down, fussing and whining about how much she missed me and how worried she was.

She is
using this annoying voice that’s a cross between a baby and a five year old and it sets my teeth on edge. Really, why would she think a voice like that would turn me on?

Even when I lay my head back with my eyes closed, feigning sleep, both of th
em continue to chatter away. It’s as if they can’t get enough of their own voices. Is it too much to ask for a bolt of lightning to strike me, or at the very least, a truck to blindside us into oblivion?

At that very moment, Liam slams on the brakes as a car speeds past him after running a red light. My heart slams i
nto my throat and I grip Kaylee’s hand to the point where she cries out from the pain. I guess I’m not so ready to die. Point taken, Big Guy.

Finally we get to mine and Kaylee’
s condo. Just as I’m about to head inside, because I literally hear the bed calling me, Liam pulls me back.

“
You have to be more careful, son,” he castigates me once more. “Why’d you even attack the officer?”

“
He was trying to keep my friend from me. She’d been hurt,” I answer.

“You mean that stripper?”
he says in disgust.

Before I can think about it, I have backed Liam up on his car with my fist curled in the front of his shirt.

“
Never
call her that,” I threaten in a low menacing voice.

“
Who do you think you are threatening me for some piece of ass?” Liam spits angrily, his face going fire engine red.

With a smirk, I answer, “Your partner.”
I release my grip on him, dusting his shirt of invisible lint and straightening it. “And don’t you
ever
refer to her as a piece of ass again.”

Shoving him in the car once more, I walk away from his appalled expression.
I bet he’ll rethink making me a partner now.

“You’
ve got balls, kid!” he calls after me in admiration, stopping me in my tracks. “We meet with Fletcher Colfax tomorrow morning at eight. It seems our richest client got himself in a bit of a bind and wants his Golden Boy to be in his corner again.”

“
Is it anything like the last time?” I throw over my shoulder, clenching and unclenching my fists.

“Kind of,”
he answers with a shrug of the shoulder.

“
Not interested,” I respond, walking away.

“
Well, as partner, you have to be there anyway. So, see you at eight, Golden Boy,” Liam shoots back with a chuckle, making me curse the day he ever promoted me.

With
a quick nod at Nate, the condo’s security guard, I pass him and head up to where my bed is calling me. I am exhausted, hungry and in need of a hot shower. Upon entering the condo, I hear Kaylee’s voice and groan because she’s on her cell phone gossiping.

“
No! He did! Holy shit!” she squeals. “Ross proposed to Vanessa, babe!” she informs me when I cross the living room for the kitchen.

“Whoop-de-frickin’
-do,” I mutter snidely as I rip open the fridge and pull out some left over pizza and pop it in the microwave. Kaylee doesn’t eat pizza, so I’m guessing this pizza is about three days old, from the last time I ordered in. I don’t even care if it’s moldy or has cockroaches on it. I’d scarf it down; I have no shame. I’m hungrier than hungry, hungry hippo right now.

“Somebody’s a little grumpy,”
Kaylee comments, hugging me from behind.

I roll my eyes at her false sense of concern and continue to putter around the kitchen. Really, I just want to be left alone to my gluttony right now.

“I’m glad you’re home, babe.” She kisses the back of my neck, runs her hand down my belly and turns away to continue talking to whoever.

She couldn’
t even spare a literal minute of her concern. It figures. That would require her actually caring about someone other than herself. And since there’s no audience, why bother to pretend? I don’t need that.