FIFTEEN
Scotti
I was only getting bits and pieces at first.
I could tell that whatever it was, was serious.
I mean, of course it was at that hour.
But when I say it was serious, I mean enough to knock a grown, strong, lifelong criminal off his own two feet.
So that only meant one thing.
Family.
And then I could hear Helen's voice on the other line say the dreaded phrase: NBPD.
Someone was arrested. And given their professions, I had to assume it was for something at least related to assault.
I wanted to ask; I wanted to know.
But I also knew the last thing he needed right then was more questions. He needed answers.
So I was silent beside him as we broke out into the lobby, him still talking to his mother.
I caught sight of King at the front desk, brows drawn together. I rushed over, handing him my keycard for the room, and answering his unasked questions. "One of his brothers got locked up," I said, knowing he knew what that meant, knowing I could trust him to deal with all the details of the room and whatnot while I left.
"Shit," he said, giving me a heavy look.
"I know," I agreed, moving off.
"Turn that phone back on," he called at my retreating form.
"Doing it right now," I called back, pulling it out of my purse even as I went out the front doors and jogged down the street to catch up with Mark as he finally hung up and tucked his phone away.
I didn't even need to ask once I moved in beside him, feeling at a loss, so I did the only thing I knew I could, reaching for his hand, and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Eli," he told me, and I felt my belly tense.
Eli.
The quiet, sweet, artistic, recent doggy dad.
I didn't say anything.
There was nothing to say.
Because there were no words that would take away his worry, that would ease his mind. I knew this because I had four brothers who meant the absolute world to me and I knew they did illegal things that could get them locked up as well. Nothing he or anyone could say to me if that became a reality would help.
What he needed was traffic to be light, cops to be MIA on the way back to Navesink Bank so he could crush the speed limits, and to get to the station as soon as was possible to be with his family and to get the answers he so desperately needed.
And that was exactly what happened. We got his car out of the parking garage; we cursed our way out of city traffic; we hit the main roads where Mark pushed eighty-five the whole way back to his little corner of the world.
He actually jumped out and forgot to cut the engine at the station, making me take an extra minute to do so, then lock up, as I followed him up, my own stomach tensing.
Everything in me rebelled against stepping foot in there, tempting the fates. But when your man who had been nothing but exceptional to you needed you to step inside the belly of the beast, you just had to ovary-up and fucking do it.
So I took a breath so deep it hurt, grabbed the door, and moved inside.
To say I walked into chaos would be an understatement.
Because I walked in to not only find Mark, Helen, and Charlie there, but also Hunter, Shane, Ryan, Lea, and Fee. The only one missing was Dusty, and I had a sneaking suspicion it was because she was babysitting, not because she didn't desperately want to be there as well.
Everyone was talking, talking over one another, practically yelling at the man they were standing in front of.
And who was that man, you might ask?
None other than the man who had interviewed me at the box store after the holdup.
Because, of course.
"And as I said before, Charlie, this is not my case. I really don't have much else to give you."
"I want to know why he would fucking refuse a goddamn phone call to his lawyer," Shane snapped, everything about him a tense, coiled spring about to snap. Lea moved in, putting a hand on his arm, saying nothing at all, but the contact seemed to allow his chest to expand with breath again.
"I don't have that answer for you, Shane," Collings said, clearly apologetic, obviously somehow having a soft spot for the family, despite them all being criminals and, therefore, supposedly his enemies.
"And why he won't see us," Ryan put in, his voice a low, threatening hiss. Granted, I didn't know him all that well, but from the time I had shared with him, he had always been a bit detached. He gave off an aura of competence and control. But there was nothing controlled about him right then either. He looked like he was one wrong answer from getting his very own assault charge.
"Did someone put their hands on him during questioning?" Hunter asked, seeming to be the most under control. But judging by the way that Fee moved in closer when he spoke, appearances were obviously misleading. If she was worried about him, moving in just in case, he was obviously close to losing it too.
"Alright, alright," Collings said, holding up a hand. "I don't know why he refuses to see you all. But I have seen him with my own two eyes, Helen," he said, addressing their mother with a look that said he understood how much she needed the words that would follow, "and I swear on my daughter's life that your son has not been roughed up."
I didn't know Collings. He didn't even seem like the kind of man who had a daughter, more like the kind who was married to his job. But seeing as Helen's shoulders relaxed a little as she leaned into her husband, I figured that he not only had a daughter, but that she meant quite a bit to him. Men who loved their children didn't swear on their lives unless they were one-hundred percent certain of something.
"Small miracle, that," Hunter mumbled.
"Ah, there is Detective Jones now," Collings announced. I guessed that must have been the name of the detective on the case because, at the announcement, the entire group of people moved in the direction of the man in question.
Mark turned back, half-distracted, but his eyes were pleading when he said, "Wait for me here, Scotti."
I gave him a nod even as my stomach sank to my feet.
Because I had given Collings a license that claimed my name was Angela.
I couldn't be mad. I couldn't blame him for the slip. He was out of his mind with worry.
But as my eyes drifted to Collings, I could see the understanding there.
"How about you help me get coffee for the whole lot of them?" he suggested, waving a hand toward the other end of the room where a four-pot system was set up. "Scotti, was it?" he added, lips twitching, not seeming pissed at all for the lie, something that in no way eased my concern.
But what was there to do? I couldn't refuse him. That would likely only make things worse. "Sure," I agreed, giving him a nod as he invited me to move next to him as we started walking.
"So you and Mark pulled a Speed, huh?"
And, despite the swirling anxiety in my stomach, I had to laugh at that. "Something like that," I agreed as we moved next to the coffee pots and Collings set out ten cups. I assumed eight for the Mallicks and one for each of us.
"Don't know about the girls, but the rest drink it black," he explained as he started pouring.
"You know them well, it seems."
Collings' smile was warm. "Hard not to in this town. Hell, I went to school with Charlie back in the day. Had a wicked crush on Helen in my early twenties. He was a lucky sucker to get her. But yeah. These boys have been causing all kinds of chaos all their lives. Never been anything like this before though. They're careful with their... work," he said, raising a brow at me. "Eli never gets to do a job alone."
Because Eli had some rage issues, I remembered Mark telling me. If he didn't have someone to pull him back, sometimes he would just keep going and going and going.
"But this wasn't a job far as I can tell," Collings went on, surprising me with his willingness to share as he clipped tops on all the cups. "Happened three days ago one town over. Took them until this morning to bring him in."
Three days ago.
My stomach twisted again, realizing for the first time that those cars that had been patrolling the area weren't looking for my brothers or me at all, but Eli.
Somehow, even though I barely knew him, that was just as bad.
"So, Scotti," Collings said suddenly, done with the coffees, and turning to lean back against the counter, looking out at the station. "Funny thing. I ran your license a couple days ago..."
Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.
"Oh, I..."
"It obviously came back fake," he said casually, tone somehow completely devoid of surprise or anger. "Nice work, that one. Barney?"
"Who is Barney?" I asked, brows drawing together.
"Local forger. No matter. Just seemed like his level of work. Anyway. It looks like you and Mark might be a thing. So that means you're likely going to be dropping anchor in Navesink Bank."
"I, ah, maybe," I hedged, feeling like I was on truly unsteady footing despite his casual tone.
"You going to be doing that under your real name? Your brothers too?"
Oh, God.
Okay.
Alright.
I needed to, ah, remember how to breathe.
And look for exits.
And not get caught by one of the dozen or so cops and detectives moving around.
"I'm going to assume that if you all do, that you will be hanging up your armed robbery hats."
Holy shit.
Okay.
Worst possible case scenario.
At least it was just me though, right? My brothers could all get out clean.
"Relax," Collings said, tone calm, reassuring. "I'm not dragging you or them in for it. Way I figure it, no one has ever gotten hurt, and those stores do more harm than good all the way around. So long as it's over, I am willing to get rid of all the research I have done on this. And trust me, no one has even bothered to do half the digging I have so you don't need to worry about that." When I couldn't seem to get a conscious thought to form, let alone make my mouth move and get sounds out, he shrugged. "I know I'm not supposed to say that, but I have men in this town who viciously gang rape women. I have dealers who are handing out overdoses like candy on a school yard. I have a lot more important shit to focus on than you. So if you can tell me that you're retired, I can make it so you live here in peace. All of you," he added.
I wanted to find a trap there.
I wanted to see fake promises.
But all I saw was understanding and sincerity.
"We are all, um, exploring new career paths. I, ah, really seem to like gardening."
He nodded at that. "Just don't start growing pot. I mean, for some reason that shit is still illegal around here. I don't want to be pulling you in for something so stupid after your rather illustrious and arrest-free career."
I smiled at that. "No pot. I promise."
"Good," he said, his whole face falling as he looked across the room toward the Mallicks. "I hope they can get through this. It's not looking good. Eli really fucked up, pounding on some politician's kid. He'd going down for this. There's no chance of him walking."
Oh, God.
My heart hurt for them all.
I couldn't imagine hearing that news.
"They're strong," I said, knowing it was true.
"Strong, sure. But this is a blow. They won't be okay for a long, long time. I'm glad Mark will have you around," he said, turning to stick the coffees into trays, stacking them, and moving to walk toward the group that was getting way too loud, risking their own chance at a cell. "He's going to need you."
I didn't know what that would mean. I didn't have experience with being needed outside my family. I didn't know if he would want me close, want some space, want to talk, want silence.
But whatever he did want, I would give it to him.
Because both Collings and I were right. They were strong, but this was the kind of blow that would leave permanent damage. I knew if it was King, Nixon, Atlas, or Rush in a cell, knowing he was going in for a dime, yeah, no. I would never recover from that. It would be a daily, constant, aching, bleeding, painful wound.
I had just moved back over toward the waiting area as a group of cops and detectives moved the whole Mallick clan back toward it with me, when the door to one of the interrogation rooms opened.
And out walked Eli.
In cuffs.
His head had been up, looking where he was going, until he caught sight of his family.
Maybe I didn't know him well, but I knew that look well enough to spot it when I saw it.
Shame.
He was ashamed.
Maybe that was why he hadn't called them, why he hadn't called an attorney. Maybe he thought he deserved what he was getting.
"Eli," Helen called, her tone so pained that it made a shooting spread through my whole chest cavity.
His eyes shifted to see his mother, his eyes going sad for a short moment before he seemed to pull some shield down over them, blocking everything out, making him look hauntingly empty.
Then he simply shook his head at her, dropped his eyes to the floor, and followed the cops leading him into the back.
Then something happened that no one who had ever met Helen Mallick would think she was capable of.
She broke.
I barely knew her.
But even as a relative outsider, watching that strong-as-nails woman crumble, literally losing the strength in her legs, having to be held up by her equally wrecked-looking husband, my eyes started to swim with tears for her.
It seemed to prove too much for her sons too, as Hunter turned to Fee, Shane turned to Lea, Ryan reached for his phone to contact Dusty, and Mark turned to me.
Then he wasn't just looking at me; he was walking toward me.
I don't know if it was because he saw the tears and thought I needed him, or because he needed me, but the next thing I knew, I was crushed against his solid chest, his strong arms holding me so tightly that breathing was more like a wish and a prayer than a reality. Whatever it was, it felt right to be there for each other, to lean on each other, to draw strength from each other.
My arms moved around his back, holding on just as tightly as his head pressed into the side of mine.
"I can't do anything," he admitted, his voice harsh. "They're going to take him... and I can't fucking do anything."
I closed my eyes tight, feeling the tears rush down my cheeks, only able to sympathize with the utter helplessness he was feeling right then. I had the distinct impression that the Mallick men were not used to feeling useless, helpless, completely out of control. And men not used to that must not handle the feeling well.
"You can call your lawyer, right?" I asked, wanting to say something that wasn't some bullshit platitude he didn't need right then. Because it wasn't okay and it wouldn't be okay. I wasn't going to spoon feed him that fake crap. He deserved better than that. "I know he refused to call one. But call one anyway, right? Just because he's being stubborn doesn't mean you can't try to force his hand. He has to have an attorney to go to trial."
"You're right," he agreed, pulling back slightly, looking down at me with a small amount of relief and more than a little purpose. His eyes softened as he released my hips to gently wipe the tears from my cheeks. "Thank you," he added, leaning down to give me a quick, distracted kiss even as he reached for his cell.
While he talked, I took the coffees from Collings who gave me a knowing look, and started handing them out to those who were holding it together enough to accept.
It was the better part of an hour later when Fee and Lea dropped into the seats on either side of me, all the men still huddled to the side, talking. Charlie had trusted things to his sons and had taken a very pale, very shattered Helen home to try to calm her down.
"I can't," Fee said, shaking her head that was angled up to the ceiling as she blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears in. We all knew it was futile, and a second later, they started streaming too.
Even though I had no experience at such things, my arm reached out and went around her shoulders as Lea reached across me to rest her hand on Fee's leg.
"What do I tell the girls?" she asked helplessly.
"You tell them," a male voice said from in front of us, unfamiliar, making us all shock apart and look up. It was then I realized that I did know the voice, though I had only heard it once before, in a big box store, when he had a gun pointing at Mark and me. Detective Lloyd, I think his name was. "That Senator Ericsson's son is a disgusting piece of wife-beating shit who we have never been able to take in despite a dozen domestic abuse calls from his mansion that is paid for by tax-payer dollars. You tell them that their uncle stopped that bastard from putting his wife in an early, but likely very welcome, grave. You tell them that he is not the one who belongs in prison, but that sometimes bad people do win in life. You tell them that if they want that to change, they better get an education and start taking some of these positions of power away from these fucking scumbags. That's what you tell them. Minus a few 'fucks, maybe,'" he added a bit sheepishly.
With that, and not a single thing more, the strange, elusive Detective Lloyd disappeared out the front doors.
"Wow, I always thought he was a bit of a prick," Lea commented at the closed door, making both me and Fee snort before we realized how inappropriate that was.
"Is it weird that I am relieved this wasn't work-related?" Fee asked, looking at us. "I mean, I shouldn't be. If it was work-related, all they would need to do is all go after the fuckface all at once until he agreed to drop the charges. Then it could all be over. But, for Eli's sake, I'm more, um, I don't know... relieved that he raged out for the right reasons? I guess that's what I'm trying to say."
"I don't think he's seeing it that way, unfortunately," Lea said, not trying to be a Debbie Downer, just being honest. "You know Eli. He goes into a downward spiral after he realizes he let the rage win out. Takes him a while to get out of the funk. I mean... we don't know how badly he hurt this wife-beating asshole," she went on. "His charge is only aggravated assault, so he didn't kill him. But was he close? I know seeing a man wailing on a woman was likely a trigger like he has never known before, so that wouldn't surprise me. Without one of his brothers to pull him off, this could have gone really badly really fast. That might be why he won't talk to any of us, wouldn't hardly look at any of us."
"It will pass," Fee said, exhaling hard. "It always does."
Lea nodded, but stayed silent, and I had the feeling maybe she thought differently. She just didn't want to bring the mood down. "Scotti," she said suddenly, making me jump, feeling like I had been more of an eavesdropper than a participant in the conversation up to that point. "Do you think Mark would be willing to take in Coop?" she asked, looking hopeful. "Fee can't do it with all the girls. Ryan and Dusty have the cat who hates Coop. Shane and I don't have a yard..."
"I'll ask him, but I don't think he would say no."
"Let us know, though. If Eli was picked up this morning, that beast has had free rein of his place for almost a day. He needs to be let out, fed, and have some serious damage control done at his place."
"I'm sure it won't be a problem," I said, watching Mark. As if sensing my gaze, he looked over his shoulder at me, and the area around his eyes softened slightly.
"Oh, I know that look," Lea said, smile warm.
"That's a good look on a Mallick man," Fee agreed. "Though I like it a lot more on Hunter."
"Has he told you yet?" Lea pressed.
Confused, my brows drew together. "Told me what?"
"That's a no," Fee answered, leaning forward to look at Lea on the other side of me.
"Soon," Lea agreed.
"That seems to be the pattern," Fee said with a nod and smile.
Completely out of the loop, maybe even wondering if the stress had gotten to them a little, I stayed silent. In fact, we all did until the men finished talking to the man who came in at around five in the morning, looking fresh and handsome in a silver fox sort of way, in a fit black suit and sporting very classically handsome features.
"That's Ellis. He's the attorney," Lea explained. "Best in the state."
Well, there was that at least.
Ellis talked to the Mallick men for all of ten minutes before moving to talk to a detective. It was at this point that the men finally turned back to us, then moved toward us as a unit. We stood as one as well, moving to our respective men.
"They want to know if you can take Coop," I said as soon as the others moved away.
"Of course we will take care of Coop," he answered, putting an arm around me, and pulling me close to kiss my forehead. "There's nothing more to do right now. Ellis needs to get in to see Eli, then he will get back to us. Right now, we should go get Coop, clean up Eli's place, and try to get some food or caffeine in us."
No sleep.
I wasn't surprised.
I was pretty sure he had many sleepless nights ahead of him.
But when we got to Eli's place, there was no Coop.
In fact, there were no signs that Coop had been there in a long time. His leash was off the hook too. Like maybe he had been with Eli when he got pinched. "I'll have Rush go by the shelter," I offered as we drove back to Mark's side of town.
He didn't fight me on it, insisting on doing it himself. I think the stress was getting to him. "I'll send you a pic from Eli to send to him," he agreed instead, then did just that.
But Coop wasn't at the shelter.
And despite countless posters, calls and visits to all shelters and vets in the area, he was nowhere to be found.
We never did find out what happened to Coop until... well, that was a story for another day.
And another woman.
As for Mark and me, well, we went back to his place.
And then we kept going back to his place.
And I learned to call it home.