True Colors (32 page)
He had a feeling he knew what Charlie and Alex, even Noah, would say, and that just twisted his insides up even more. Fuck empathy.
Fuck
it.
Fuck
it.
“His mother,” Alex said. “God, his mother . . . she walked away.”
“Don’t worry,” Charlie assured her. “We’ll take care of him. Now that we know what we’re dealing with, it’ll be easier.”
“Wait a damn minute. Just . . . time out,” Logan said. “How do you know what he’s saying is true? I mean, I’ve known the kid for weeks, and he’s never met a lie he couldn’t tell.”
Charlie glowered at him. “Are you deliberately playing dumb? Look at her. She’s got the same bruises on her face that Justin has. You think I did that to her just to play some elaborate joke on you? For the love of God, are you—”
“Charlie,” Alex said, the “back off” clear in her tone.
She shifted her legs off his lap and put her feet on the floor. He reluctantly let her go, concerned by her pallor and the gingerly way she held her head, as though she feared it would separate from her neck and roll away.
“Are you okay?” He kept his hand light on her arm. He knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. But, Jesus, he
needed
her to be. He couldn’t think, couldn’t function, when she wasn’t okay.
needed
her to be. He couldn’t think, couldn’t function, when she wasn’t okay.
“I’m great. Fantastic. Thanks,” she said dryly. “Let’s focus on what we’re going to do to help Justin.”
The knot in his stomach tightened further when she deliberately eased away from his touch.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
B
utch jimmied the window open and quickly stepped through, grumbling under his breath the whole time. This was so beneath him. Entering a woman’s house like this—not cool. He preferred charming his way in, using compliments and warm smiles as keys. That was part of the game, part of the fun, proving that he’d chosen the right woman each time, unlocking each of her defenses with a skillful turn of words and appreciative looks.
utch jimmied the window open and quickly stepped through, grumbling under his breath the whole time. This was so beneath him. Entering a woman’s house like this—not cool. He preferred charming his way in, using compliments and warm smiles as keys. That was part of the game, part of the fun, proving that he’d chosen the right woman each time, unlocking each of her defenses with a skillful turn of words and appreciative looks.
A mad barking came from somewhere inside the house, and he froze in the office, his heart suddenly pounding. Dogs. He should have remembered, and he admonished himself for being sloppy. He hadn’t done his homework with this one, had embarked on this quest without proper preparation. Proof that he normally wasn’t a vengeful man.
When no mangy mutts charged into the office and tried to chomp into his private parts, he relaxed. They must be confined. Hopefully not in her bedroom. He really wanted to spend some quality time in there.
His frustration, and impatience, had built anew overnight as he’d staked out the house, waiting for the cop to bring his precious Alex home. When they hadn’t arrived, he’d shifted his focus to John Logan’s apartment this morning, but they hadn’t been there, either. The cop must have taken his Alex somewhere else, to a hotel perhaps, where he’d spent the night making love to her over and over again, which is exactly what Butch would have done in John Logan’s shoes.
The thought of being the one between her legs had his dick stirring behind the fly of his brand-new navy Dockers shorts. He resisted the urge to give himself a comforting pat. Time for that later.
Turning his focus to where he stood, he took in the standard spare bedroom used as an office. A laptop on the desk occupied a docking station that linked it to a monitor, keyboard, mouse and printer. Nothing too fancy, though the printer looked high-end. The photos—some framed, some not—that covered the walls reminded him that Alex Trudeau was a photojournalist. And a damn good one, he mused, as he stepped closer to inspect her work.
The eclectic collection included beach shots in which vivid blue skies, white-sand beaches and blue green water set off gleaming tanned bodies; house fires in which wicked yellow orange flames licked out of windows, sending thick white smoke into the night; stormy skies in which jagged streaks of lightning stabbed out of dark, rolling clouds; and the aftermath of hurricanes or tornadoes, where homes and businesses looked like nothing more than piles of debris waiting for the garbage truck.
One, of chocolate fondue, had a sensual quality as smooth, rich chocolate dripped from a ripe red strawberry.
Butch smiled. His Alex knew how to snap a picture. He wondered if he could talk her into taking his portrait. Or maybe she could teach him how to use a camera so he could shoot her photo after he was done with her. That would be a keepsake he’d treasure for the rest of his life. He imagined such a shot in a simple but unique frame, something that wouldn’t detract from the masterpiece it displayed.
Sighing happily, he started to whistle “You Are So Beautiful” as he ventured out into the hall. He passed a closed door, the room that held what sounded like a dozen raucous beasts snuffling at the door, some whimpering, others woofing softly and still others barking their heads off. Butch wished he’d brought a gun, especially when he realized that that closed door most definitely did belong to his Alex’s bedroom.
Frustration buzzed through his veins, and he stood in front of the door and glared at it, wondering how long it would take him to get to the hotel, get his handgun, which was stashed with its bullets in the room’s safe, and come back. He hated guns. Hadn’t used the Heckler & Koch pistol once since his brother had given it to him when Butch was seventeen. But sometimes you do what you have to do. Alex would understand once he explained it to her.
Resolved, he about-faced and went back into the office. With one last look at the fondue and strawberry picture, his cock expressing appreciation with an anticipatory little twitch, Butch climbed out the window and meticulously put everything back in place.
As he cut through neighboring backyards to the street parallel to Alex’s but in the block behind her house, he started whistling again. Life was good when you had time with an interesting woman to look forward to. He imagined she’d be just as beautiful inside as out, pictured the red velvet of her blood as it slicked her pale skin, sexier than a strawberry dipped in chocolate.
As he got into the Ford Fusion, he happened to glance back toward the back of Alex’s home in time to catch a glimpse between the houses of a police car easing down her street.
Someone must have seen him break in.
As much as he hated stinky, annoying dogs, this time they’d saved his butt.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
A
lex sat with a dishcloth-wrapped Ziploc bag of ice against her jaw and tried to focus on the teenager and not how much her face hurt. A check of her watch told her she had at least another thirty minutes before the bruises faded away as if they’d never existed. Justin, however, was not so lucky.
lex sat with a dishcloth-wrapped Ziploc bag of ice against her jaw and tried to focus on the teenager and not how much her face hurt. A check of her watch told her she had at least another thirty minutes before the bruises faded away as if they’d never existed. Justin, however, was not so lucky.
He sat in the visitor’s chair next to her, his features drawn and pale. She’d scared him when she’d collapsed. Or perhaps she’d scared him when she’d regained consciousness with marks on her face identical to the ones on his.
She glanced at Logan, who leaned against the wall several feet away. He shifted his gaze away from hers and then rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Just tired, she thought. She hoped.
She was tired, too. The effects of fifteen hours of sleep had vanished after only a few minutes inside Justin’s nightmare, leaving behind a dull headache and a leaden feeling that seemed to permeate every cell.
She couldn’t regret the excursion, though. Now they knew exactly what had happened. There would be no he said/ he said with his case. Alex was certain she could provide enough details to force the senator into a confession, especially once two
Lake Avalon Gazette
journalists—herself and Charlie—confronted him.
Lake Avalon Gazette
journalists—herself and Charlie—confronted him.
“Are you feeling up to sharing yet?” Charlie softly asked Justin.
Alex looked at her sister on the sofa next to Noah, who had his arm around her as if he had no intention of letting her get anywhere near Alex. Under normal circumstances, Charlie would have been all over her, soothing her and stroking her back and holding her hand. Not now. Maybe never again. The loss of such comforting contact settled in an aching lump in her stomach. The fact that Logan stood clear on the other side of the room, as though he didn’t savor the idea of touching her, either, turned the ache to stone.
Alex shifted focus to Justin. He was the one who needed help now. She forced a reassuring smile. “Let’s talk about Senator Tool.”
Justin’s eyes rounded with shock. “I wouldn’t . . . I never . . . call him that . . . out loud.”
“He was angry with you.”
Justin squirmed, casting a panicked look at Logan. “I’m not sure I—”
“It’s okay, Justin,” Alex said. “You’re among friends. Everyone here accepts you, no matter who you are. Do you understand that?”
He continued to stare at Logan, tense and unsure, until Logan nodded at him. “She’s right, Justin. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done.”
Justin stiffened. “I haven’t done anything—”
“What he means,” Alex cut in, “is the only thing that matters to him is you’re safe. Your stepfather is not a good man, and he was wrong to punish you for being the young man you are.”
Justin’s shoulders relaxed by slow degrees, especially after Logan gave him another encouraging nod. “It’s not like I did it on purpose, you know? I mean, it’s not like I
want
to be . . . this way. But he hates me. Hates what I am. He thinks it’ll hurt him when he runs for governor. He said if he’d known, he never would have married my mom. I wish
I’d
known before he married her. I would have scared him off. He thought he was getting the perfect family, and then I screwed it all up for him.”
want
to be . . . this way. But he hates me. Hates what I am. He thinks it’ll hurt him when he runs for governor. He said if he’d known, he never would have married my mom. I wish
I’d
known before he married her. I would have scared him off. He thought he was getting the perfect family, and then I screwed it all up for him.”
Logan straightened away from the wall and moved to kneel in front of the boy’s chair. He put his hand on top of Justin’s sneaker, a show of gentle but not-too-forward support. “How many times has he hit you, Justin?”
Justin shrugged. “A couple.”
“It’s okay to tell the truth,” Alex said. “We’ll believe you.”
The boy took a breath and held it. “It started last month. When he found out. He . . . he found a magazine in my room that I ordered on the Internet. And he just lost it.”
“Was that when you ran away the first time?” Logan asked.
Justin nodded. “I knew he’d be pissed and Mom would be worried, but . . . he must have told her something, a lie, because no one came looking for me and it wasn’t in the newspaper or on TV. She must not have known I ran away.” His chin quivered. “At least, that’s what I thought then.”
Alex remembered how his mother, a woman she admired and a fixture in the Lake Avalon community, had turned and walked away while her husband used brutal fists on her only child. Alex would have assumed exactly what Justin had. Toni Wells had known her son had run away, and she’d let him go. To protect him, perhaps? A twisted form of protection, though, when she could have tried to rescue her son and had her husband arrested. Alex wondered if the antimaternal reaction meant Senator Tool was using his fists on his wife, too.
“I didn’t know what to do,” Justin went on. “I didn’t want to go home. And I knew if I went to the police or something, my stepdad would get even madder. I figured, you know, maybe Mom didn’t want me anymore.”
“Oh, Justin,” Charlie said, coming off the sofa where she’d stayed silent in Noah’s arms. She swiveled the boy’s chair toward her and pulled him into her arms to hug him close, her hands flat against his back. When she stiffened and let out a soft, whooshing gasp, Alex realized her sister had just landed in Justin’s head. Charlie opened her eyes and met Alex’s, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
Charlie’s head trip, while painful, had been brief, and she came out of it on her own and unmarked. Alex envied that.
“I went back last night,” Justin said when Charlie sat back from him, keeping her hands wrapped around both of his as they rested on his knees. “I thought maybe I could take it, you know? I didn’t want to cause trouble for Mom. I thought maybe I could pretend I’m . . . normal.”
“You
are
normal,” Alex said. “You are.”
are
normal,” Alex said. “You are.”
Justin lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “But he got all over me right away, and he pissed me off. I wanted to piss him off right back.” He paused with a shaky breath. “He started whaling on me all over again. And Mom . . .” He trailed off and lowered his head.
“She walked away,” Alex said softly, remembering the harsh bite of betrayal.
Nodding, Justin sniffled and swiped at his eyes.
“Jesus,” Logan pushed to his feet and paced away, enraged tension infusing his body.
Alex noticed the same tension in Noah as the men exchanged furious glances.
Charlie hugged Justin again, patting his back as he sniffled some more, all teen-boy attitude gone. He was just a scared child now, broken and adrift.
Logan cleared his throat. “I’m going to have to get the authorities involved, Justin. I’m sorry, but I have no choice. I want you to remember that you’re safe, though, okay? He won’t hit you ever again.”
Noah stood. “If you want, Charlie and I can take care of Justin from here. I imagine you have an arrest in your immediate future?”
Logan nodded, one fist clenching at his side. This was one arrest he was clearly going to enjoy. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll call it in on the way over to the Wells residence.”
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