Riven (45 page)

Driving herself, Katie had been showing up early on Thursdays, but not today. And when the county van pulled up, a shy, dark-haired girl emerged and slipped Brady a note.

Hey, Lover:

My dad is absolutely refusing to let me come back to group there. He got me reassigned. I pitched a fit, telling him I was of age, but he got my PO involved. Let’s just lie low for a while and be patient.

Love, Katie

With just minutes before the session was to begin, Brady raced upstairs and scribbled a reply.

Katie, I’m putting a note in here for you to give your dad. We’ve got to make a truce with him, right? I love you and need you and want you. You’re all I’m living for. Call me.

Love, Brady

The girl agreed to deliver the notes back to Katie, but that didn’t make Brady feel much better. He was sullen during the meeting and found himself slouching and scowling, unable to participate. It was so unlike him that it seemed to rattle Jan. She kept calling on him for comments, and he would merely shrug or mumble an “I don’t know.”

When the session was over and the others had left, Jan told Brady she and Bill needed to speak with him.

They sat in an anteroom off the kitchen. Brady was not content to wait for Jan to ask him what was wrong. He just dived in. “Sorry about my attitude. I just miss Katie, and her dad is not happy about me.”

“That’s not unusual for future fathers-in-law of ex-cons,” Bill said.

That he even mentioned the possibility of Brady and Katie’s getting married raised Brady’s spirits. “Maybe you can put in a good word for me.”

“Keep your nose clean and complete this program the way you’ve been going, and I’ll be happy to tell anyone who asks that you’ve done everything required of you. I need to tell you something, though. We heard from your contact at County, the antigang guy.”

Brady held his breath. Had Jordan North already squealed on him? And if so, how did it get to Lieutenant Dale and not to Bill? Or did Bill know too? “You heard from him?”

“Yeah. He wants you to know that Tiny is out on some technicality, so you’ll want to keep your distance. You made a lot of promises to that guy, apparently, and he may come calling.”

“He doesn’t know where I am.”

“Brady, he’s the most connected gang leader in the state. Unless you’re in the witness protection program, he’ll find you. He thinks you’re on your way to Hollywood to find your fortune. You know what that means.”

“He’ll expect a piece of it.”

“Of course. For all those years of protection.”

Brady studied the ceiling. “This is all I need. Once I’m out of here, where do I go to stay away from Tiny?”

“Anywhere but the city. The west side in particular.”

Brady’s smile was gone. He felt tired and achy all the time. Couldn’t concentrate. Wasn’t eating. Hardly slept.

As days passed without word one from Katie, he felt himself changing. Something roiled deep within him, a restlessness. First it seemed like simple impatience, but soon he was testy, defensive, angry all the time. When he called Katie’s cell phone and got only her voice mail, he pleaded with her to call and tell him how her father had responded to his letter.

And he reminded her how much he loved her and couldn’t live without her.

The next Thursday the same girl emerged from the outsider van with a note for Brady. He ducked into a first-floor bathroom and locked himself in a stall to tear it open. Desperate for any word from Katie, he found only a terse letter, typed on Mr. North’s business stationery.

Mr. Brady Wayne Darby:

Be advised that this is the last communiqué you shall receive directly from me. Anything further will come from my legal counsel.

The damage you caused has been repaired at my own expense, and while I appreciate your offer of reimbursement, allow me to counterpropose: you never see my daughter again, and we will consider the matter closed.

Do yourself a favor and don’t imagine you and Katie as star-crossed lovers. She has made a habit of attaching herself to your type over the years, but wake up. No one like her could really be seriously interested in someone like you, and the sooner you accept that, the better off you will be.

If you find this difficult, grow up. If you violate my wish in this, you’ll regret it.

Direct any further correspondence to my attorney, but I guarantee that effort will be futile too.

Most sincerely,

Jordan North

51

Serenity Halfway House

It had been years since Brady had wept. In fact, he hadn’t shed a tear since his brother’s funeral.

But now he found himself on the verge of sobs—not tears of remorse or sadness or disappointment. No, this was fury. This was making Brady take a good look at his real self again after playing the going-straight game for too long.

This man was not going to come between him and Katie. No way. What did Mr. North know of what his daughter felt for Brady? If it was anything remotely like what Brady felt for her, nothing and no one on earth could keep them apart. If she wasn’t interested in a future with him, everything she had said and done was a lie. He would have to hear it from her lips.

The problem was, Brady could not wait. He simply could not stay at Serenity without knowing where he stood. And if it meant a fight—of any kind—between him and Katie’s dad for his right to continue their love affair, he would stop at nothing.

That evening, just after dark, Brady used the house phone to call her one more time. “Katie, I know you’re screening calls like you always do. Maybe you can’t talk because your dad is there, I don’t know. But you had better get yourself somewhere where you can call me here at the house. I have to know where I stand, and I have to know now. If I don’t hear from you in an hour, I’m coming to talk to you. I’m waiting by the phone, and I love you with all my heart.”

Brady paced up and down the stairs, in and out of rooms, avoiding eye contact with anyone. He mustered an “okay” when Jan asked how he was doing. “Heard from Katie?” she said.

“Yeah. We’ll be getting together soon.”

“Great! Keep me posted.”

When the hour was almost up, Brady was so exercised he was afraid to look in the mirror. Something beastly and savage had been born in him that seemed almost physical, and he knew it would show in his eyes. He gathered up all the small amounts of cash he had earned doing menial tasks and stuffed into his pockets about forty dollars and change. As he hurried down the stairs, he ran into Bill. “Need to get out for a walk, man. Gonna pick up some cigarettes. Want anything?”

“No, thanks. Be back before midnight though, hear? Otherwise, somebody’s got to get out of bed to let you in.”

“No worries.”

Despite a chill in the air, Brady was sweaty by the time he reached the highway and thumbed for a ride. A trucker stopped.

“Trying to get into the city,” Brady told him.

“That’s where I’m goin’.”

“West side,” Brady said.

“You kiddin’? I don’t go in there. I can get you within about half a mile.”

“Perfect.”

As they rode, the trucker said, “Seriously, man, unless you know someone in there and they know you’re coming, you don’t want to be caught alone, know what I mean?”

“I know someone.”

Forty minutes later Brady was on the street again, second-guessing himself. His fury had not faded. Neither had his resolve. He just hoped someone would believe he knew who he said he knew.

Almost as soon as he entered the run-down section, he felt eyes from everywhere.

“You lost, boy?”

“Wrong neighborhood, son!”

He kept moving, unsure where he was going. An old woman, bundled up and sitting on her front steps, called out to him. “Young man, you best know your business if you gonna be ’round here. What you up to?”

“Looking for Tiny.”

She snorted. “You mean
the
Tiny? He at County.”

“Heard he was out.”

“For real? Well, I know somebody who would know. Stay right there.”

Brady could hear her on the phone. “Yes, a white boy . . . I don’t know, normal I guess. Not that big . . . No, I don’t think he’s carryin’, but he might soon wish he was. . . . Okay, I’ll tell him.”

She returned to the steps. “Well, you knew something I didn’t know. My nephew says Tiny’s back where he belongs. Where you know him from?”

“County.”

“If you’re looking for some kinda revenge, you gonna be shipped outta here in a bag.”

“He’s a friend, only I don’t know where he lives.”

“Lives? He lives where he works, boy. Sixteen blocks north, four blocks east. But you better tell everybody along the way where you’re going, or you’ll never get there.”

Brady did just that, only once warned that if it turned out he wasn’t really a friend of Tiny’s, he’d get himself messed up. Everybody he talked to was on a cell phone, and by the time he got within a quarter mile of Tiny, it seemed everyone knew he was coming.

“Here he is!”

“Almost there, bro.”

“Tiny expectin’ you by now.”

He came to an abandoned four-story building with a dozen guys milling about out front. Each reminded him of guys he’d met at County. “Hey, Hollywood! You Tiny’s buddy from the joint, right? Follow me.”

As Brady mounted the inside staircase, he was glad he wasn’t up to anything, because as he followed the man up, the rest followed him. Apparently his life was in Tiny’s hands already.

Had this been a movie, Brady would have expected Tiny to be sitting on a throne, wearing bling and surrounded by beauties. It turned out Tiny was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and lounging on a dilapidated couch, watching TV. He looked even bigger than Brady remembered. Being out seemed to agree with his appetite.

Tiny grunted as he leaned over to shut off the set. “My brother,” he said, and they traded the handshake Brady had learned inside.

“How do you get cable in here?” Brady said.

“I get anything I want wherever I want. Don’t ask, don’t tell. You a brave boy, comin’ into this neighborhood.”

“Your turf,” Brady said. “That makes it mine too.”

Tiny grinned. “My man. You bring me anything? You owe me for a lot of years. You get your stash from the armored truck job?”

“Actually, I need your help on that.”

“Oh, man!”

“The guy who’s got my share has it in the suburbs and won’t give it to me. If I can just borrow a car and a cell phone . . .”

Tiny laughed, his fleshy arms jiggling. “Oh, is that all? I’m supposed to trust you with that?”

“For fifty percent of a hundred large.”

“Seventy.”

“Deal.”

Tiny nodded to one of his associates. “We got any legit rides available? I don’t want my boy pulled over for grand theft auto. And let me borrow a cell phone.” He turned to Brady. “For how long, brother? When’s this go down?”

“Tonight. I bring back everything, including your share, before midnight.”

“Cool. You need any help?”

“Uh, no. Your guys just might stand out in the suburbs.”

“What’re you sayin’?” Tiny said, laughing. “I been trying to get into the suburbs for years. What you gonna leave me for collateral?”

“I got nothin’, man. Like forty bucks if you need it.”

Tiny snorted. “If I need forty dollars, I need more help than you can give me. You know what happens if you do me wrong.”

“You don’t even have to think about that, man. I know I owe you big-time.”

“Yeah, and a lot more than this.”

“I know.”

“You gonna be carryin’, right? You don’t stand for somebody trying to stiff you.”

This was exactly what Brady had hoped for, a weapon without having to ask for it. He knew Tiny would think of everything.

“What do you suggest?”

“Got to take a piece, man. Don’t have to use it. Just wave it in his face. He’ll have to go change his pants.”

“You got something I could use?”

“Yeah. The bigger the better. You ever see a sawed-off?”

“Used to own one.”

“Double-barrel over/under with double trigger?”

“You’re kidding.”

Tiny turned to another lackey. “Get him that gun and make sure both chambers are full. Put the safety on. This boy likely to kill hisself.”

Everybody laughed, including Brady.

Tiny walked him down to the car, handed him the phone, and tossed the shotgun into the backseat.

“Anything goes wrong, you stole this car and this weapon and this phone, you understand? You don’t know who ever owned any of ’em.”

“Sure, ’course.”

“Don’t let me down, Darby.”

“You kidding? I brought you this job, chief.”

“Yeah, and it could be a good start, depending on how it goes. Make this one work, we’ll talk more business.”

More business.
As Brady pulled the late-model sedan out of the west side, he knew he’d never see Tiny again. He would kill Jordan North if he had to, ditch the car, the shotgun, and the phone. Then he and Katie would be off to wherever they had to go to be sure no one traced them to the murder. And where Tiny could never find him.

Brady had no idea where that might be, but Katie would know. She knew everything. Best of all, she could afford anything.

52

Addison

After a lifetime of lying and a fascination with acting, Brady Darby had an imagination that wouldn’t quit. It had landed him behind bars more times than he cared to count, and it was at full throttle now as he carefully—sans driver’s license—drove toward the suburbs and the North mansion.

Despite the scenario playing out in his mind, Brady wasn’t thinking about the consequences. He rarely did. All he imagined now was rescuing the love of his life from her spiteful, overbearing father. He meant only to scare the man, if it even came to that, but Brady was so saturated with passion that he ruled out nothing. All he could see in the future was him and his soul mate waking up next to each other somewhere—anywhere.