Dignity
Page 38

 Jay Crownover

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“I know I’m smart.” The only answer was him paying for what he had done.
Titus grabbed my elbow and I let him haul me out of the room. Goddard didn’t say anything else and the cop purposely ignored the bleeding man on the floor. Once the door was shut behind us, I took my glasses off and dragged a hand over my face. Titus lifted a black eyebrow in my direction and looked at the closed door over my shoulder. “What would have happened if I gave you another five minutes, kid?”
I shook my head and put my glasses back on. “If Goddard asks for another lawyer, let me know.”
“He’s facing some pretty ugly charges. He’s not going to walk away from this no matter who his lawyer is.”
I grunted in response and pulled out my cell phone to look at the app that was tracking my laptop that Noe still had with her. I’d installed the software a couple of days ago when she started pulling away from me. I knew she was going to run and I was going to chase after her like a desperate, needy fool. She’d finally stopped moving. She was in a small town up north. I would have to drive all through the night to get to her by morning.
“He can sit in front of a judge with a public defender. If he’s smart, he’ll plead guilty and just go away.” I tapped my phone and looked up at the man I admired and respected. He was looking at me like he finally realized there was more to me than quick fingers on a keyboard.
“What happens if he doesn’t go down quietly?” That was the cop asking, not the guy who let me in the room to kick the shit out of my girl’s adoptive brother.
“You don’t want me to answer that. The less you know, the better. I gotta go get my girl. I appreciated what you did for me today, Titus.” I stuck out my hand and tried not to wince when his shake squeezed my fingers together in a crushing grip. It was a warning that I couldn’t miss.
“I like you, kid. You think before you act and you weigh the odds of things going south before jumping in with both feet. You helped me get my department in order, which means you care about this city and the people in it the same way I do. Don’t do anything that forces me to consider you an enemy. I got enough of those as it is.”
I rubbed my hand when he let it go and started for the front doors and my truck that would take me to her. I was floored that he liked me. Most people didn’t, but since Noe, it seemed to be happening more and more. She humanized me, softened me. She made me likeable. “I can’t promise anything, King. Sometimes the ends justify the means.” If it wasn’t already, it should be the slogan for the Point. Sometimes bad things had to happen in order for the good to have a shot.
After Goddard was sentenced, I was going to do my thing and make sure he was locked up in the same prison as my old man. My father might not have any warm, fuzzy feelings for what was left of his family, but he was fueled by justice. I had a feeling if I let it slip that Goddard was in the same cell-block as he was, even if it was solitary, my dad would find a way to get to him. The man sold out his country to avenge my mom. He wouldn’t blink at giving Goddard a proper welcome if I passed on all the dirty shit the former mayor had brought into my life. He promised he knew punishment, and no one needed punishing more than Goddard. It would give my dad a way to show he still cared in his own, twisted, vengeful way that didn’t involve any more heart to hearts or uncomfortable truths. He wouldn’t even have to see me in order to prove I still mattered to him.
He swore again and flipped me off before the doors closed behind me. I jogged to my truck, hoping against hope that Noe didn’t realize I’d put a tracker on the computer. I didn’t know what I was going to do if she ditched the damn thing. I was betting on the fact that she was like me, unable to be unplugged for any length of time. I was also holding out hope that she wanted to hold onto the damn thing because it was mine, something she took from me when we first met. I wanted her to have the same connection to me that I had to her.
I’d lost one person who meant everything to me . . . I wasn’t about to lose the one who meant even more than that.
Noe
I wasn’t alone in the basement of the charming little church. As it turned out, even picturesque small towns had their fair share of victims and castoffs. When you were stuck in the Point, it often felt like the rest of the world had it so much better, anyplace else would be an improvement. Sitting in the basement of this building, in a town that shouldn’t remind me of home, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities, and I realized anywhere I ran wouldn’t be perfect. There was a teenage boy who had the same kind of bruises and fear in his eyes that Julia Grace had when she first found me. There was a young mother with two young children. All three of them were too thin and jumped at every noise and shadow. There was another young woman who was around my age; she was twitchy, nervous, and unable to sit down. She kept looking at my backpack with unnatural interest, forcing me to keep the tattered material close at hand. She was no different than the junkies who ran the streets. All she wanted was a way to score another fix, she didn’t care about the roof over her head, the small bathroom we could shower and freshen up in, the stale peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a kind volunteer scrounged up for us, or the fact we all had a somewhat comfortable bed for the night.
Her frantic pacing and incoherent mumbling made for a restless night, not that I would have slept anyway. I was pissed at myself for letting old fear and panic rule me. I was angry that I reverted to the helpless, trapped teenager who felt as if she didn’t have any options. I was beating myself up, which kept my eyes pried open and regret flowing through my blood well into the early hours of the morning. I should have stood my ground, faced Aaron down, and showed him he was no longer calling the shots. It didn’t matter that he’d gone on to live a productive, prominent life like he’d done nothing wrong, as if he hadn’t taken everything from me. He’d moved on. I was the one running, the one refusing to let myself get attached to anything or anyone. I was the one who hadn’t let myself live a normal life. I told myself it was best that I relied on no one, that I trusted only myself, but running from Stark and leaving the city behind forced me to realize how entirely alone I was. And I was lonely. I wanted someone to tell me it was going to be all right. I needed someone to lean on and remind me that I was no longer the young woman who didn’t have a voice. I’d not only found mine, I used it to speak out, I used it to scream for others, to beat the drums of justice so loud that the violators were forced to cower, yet I couldn’t beat those same drums for myself. I was done running; this was stopping right here, right now.
My strength and dignity wouldn’t be compromised by the memory of the man who had taken it away in the past. I was so much better than the likes of Aaron Cartwright and Jonathan Goddard. I had nothing and it was more than either of them would ever have.
Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate. I had faith that Snowden Stark wasn’t ready to let me go quite yet. We had unfinished business between the two of us, things that needed to be said, promises that needed to be made. I wasn’t worried when he didn’t show by the time the sun came up. I wasn’t fazed when another church volunteer showed sometime in the morning with a box of cereal and fresh fruit. I wasn’t concerned there was no sight of him when the pastor of the church came down and offered to speak with the mother, the teenaged boy, and the junkie. He took one look at me and determined I had somewhere else to be. I didn’t need to talk to him, I needed to talk to the giant, tattooed behemoth stomping down the stairs, boots making his approach echo through the building.
His eyes looked tired but they were only for me. His scruff had taken over the lower half of his handsome face, highlighting his fierce frown. His eyebrows were knitted in a scowl that would scare the bravest of men, and when he said my name it made the junkie jolt, the battered mom jump, the teenaged boy cower, and the pastor stiffen. That low rumble had me melting, and once again, I couldn’t hold back tears. Before a choking sob could find its way out, his strong arms were wrapped around me not feeling anything like the old, mechanical parts that were inked across the surface. He was all man . . . my man. I was never running from him or the haven of those heavy arms again.
He tucked my head under his chin and squeezed me tight enough that I squeaked in protest.
“I know I fucked up the first time you gave me your trust, but I’ve done everything I can think of to prove you that I won’t let anything happen to you, Noe. I will keep you safe. Trust me.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest. I buried my nose into the spot where that hard heart lived. It wasn’t nearly as impenetrable as he wanted me to believe. “I do know that . . . I just forgot for a second. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I leaned back so I could look into those storm-colored eyes. “The truth is I might forget again. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I regretted it as soon as I had room to breathe. I’ve been running a long time, Snowden. It’s all I know.”
He lifted a hand so he could tuck a loose piece of hair that escaped my hat behind my ear. “You slowed down so I could catch you, though, and that tells me something.”