Chapter Thirty-Four
Veronica
I grumble under my breath as I reach under Cline’s bed and pull out another ruined stuffed animal. We woke up this morning to find the remnants of Cline’s favorite stuffed rabbit littering the hall. Since then, I have found six more mutilated toy animals scattered around the house, each one covered with Denver’s slobber.
Standing up, I walk down the stairs and toss the stuffing in the trash. Just as I shut the lid, Denver starts to howl. I walk into the living room, hands on my hips, and narrow my eyes on him. He is in his crate, still being punished for his behavior.
“You know why you’re in jail,” I say, cocking my brow. “You’ve got fifteen more minutes. Then, I’ll let you out. Hopefully, you’ll remember not to eat any more of Cline’s toys.”
He responds with a loud whine, letting me know he isn’t happy. He hasn’t been in days, and he’s made sure to let everyone know how he feels. Between peeing in the house, something he hasn’t ever done, and destroying everything he can get in his mouth, Van and I have a really good idea just how upset he is.
Three days ago, Cline left for a weeklong visit with her maternal grandparents, a trip she makes the first week of June each year. Denver is not dealing well with her being gone. Honestly, I’m not doing too well myself. I hated letting her go, worried they would treat her badly. Van assured me they were nothing like Regina. He admitted they could be uptight assholes, but he said they were nothing like their daughter. More importantly, they love Cline.
I really thought Regina would show up with the cops in tow, demanding he hand over Cline. She didn’t, though. She didn’t even call. It’s as if she has forgotten she even has a daughter. In fact, she didn’t even bother showing up for the emergency child custody hearing Van’s lawyer set up after her and Van’s confrontation. The judge, the same man she had been screwing, was more than happy to give Van full custody. Since she didn’t come to the hearing, she doesn’t even get supervised visitation.
The sound of Skype’s bubbly beep rings from the computer, drawing me out of my thoughts. I rush across the room and hit the mouse, knowing it has to be one of my friends. When I see Kat’s smiling face, I click to connect with a smile on my face.
“Hey, babe,” I say, sliding into the chair.
“Oh my gosh, you cannot imagine how much I miss your face,” she says, sipping on a glass of wine.
I look at the clock and see it is only eleven in the morning then raise my brow at her. “If you’re drinking this early, something has to be wrong.”
“I’m celebrating,” she says, lifting her glass in the air. “I just got the call. Starting this fall, I will be an associate professor at IUPUI.”
“We’re moving to Indy!” Erin shouts, popping up behind Kat.
I shout, excitement coursing through me. We all start talking at once. I ask every question I can think of, and they do their best to answer each one. We spend the next twenty minutes talking about finding a house to rent. Sadly, neither of them want to live in Cotton Plains. Being used to living in Chicago, they can’t imagine calling such a small-town home. They’ll be living in Indy, but that’s close enough that we can see each other as much as we want.
“Where’s your man at today? He’s usually lurking somewhere in the background, and I haven’t seen his sexy mug at all,” Erin says, grabbing the wine and taking a long swig from the bottle.
“He went for a ride,” I answer, wishing he was here to hear my news.
For the first time since I moved here, I’m completely alone. Brass stayed at the club last night and still hasn’t gotten home. Van left about twenty minutes ago, riding out with Dad to look at a new bike. Why my father needs another Harley, when he already has four, I have no clue.
“You haven’t called us in nearly a week,” Kat whines, glaring at me through the screen. “I was beginning to think you forgot we even existed.”
“I’ve been busy,” I say with a shit eating grin. “Being an old lady is hard work.”
I have been busy. The girls had shipped all of my stuff from Chicago, furniture and all. It took me days to go through all the shit. Then, it was time to get Cline ready for her trip to her grandparents’ house. Once she was gone, Van kept me in bed the next two days, taking advantage of our time alone.
“I’m so sure it is hard work, keeping your legs spread for that sexy beast of yours,” Erin grumbles, her eyes shining with mischief.
“Nothing hard about it, besides his dick that is,” I reply, causing all of us to laugh.
“Has Van taken care of your little problem yet?” Kat asks, losing any trace of laughter from her voice.
I nod, not voicing my answer. As much as I want to tell them everything, I can’t do that over Skype. Plus, I really don’t know everything myself. Van let me know I wouldn’t have to worry about Miles ever again, making sure I understood no one would ever have to worry about him either.
Even with him gone, his shit is still affecting our lives. He owed money to a lot of people, one of whom that would be more than willing to make me pay his debts with my life. The only way out of that is to give him a shitload of money. Luckily, my inheritance is more than enough to pay him off. There still will be enough left to make more than one charity very happy.
The sound of the door banging against the wall has me jumping from my chair. I turn just in time to see Kendra stomp into the room. The first thing I notice is a look of pure hatred in her cold blue eyes, but that only holds my attention for a second. After that, I am completely focused on the gun in her hand.
“Is that a gun?” Kat screeches, while Erin shouts, “What the fuck?”
I ignore them both, doing my best to stay calm, even if my heart is beating a million miles an hour. “What are you doing here? You know Van doesn’t want you here.”
She doesn’t answer, just raises her gun and pulls the trigger. I scream, throwing myself to the hardwood floor. The computer's screen shatters, falling off the desk with a bullet buried within it. For a long minute, the only sound in the room is Denver’s ferocious barking.
Kendra looks down at me, disgust filling her face. “Don’t be such a pussy. I wasn’t shooting at you. I just didn’t want anyone to hear our conversation.”
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, my eyes still locked on the gun.
“Van, Tito, my fucking granddaughter. I want to talk about them all!” she shouts, waving her hands, not caring at all that she has a loaded pistol in her hand.
She starts pacing, talking so fast I cannot understand a damn thing she is saying. She is obviously high as a fucking kite. Not the mellow high you get from weed or even the energetic high you get from coke. I’ve never tried meth, never wanted that poison anywhere near me, but I have been around my fair share of meth heads. She looks like every single one I ever met.
Her hair is a matted mess, falling in stringy tendrils over her shoulders. The deep brown she usually wears is now washed out, with grey roots showing. Her eyes are red, glassy, and unnaturally dilated. She has oozing sores on her face, which she is scratching even while she waves the pistol around the room.
Denver’s barking draws her attention, and she swings her gun to him. “Shut that thing up, or my next shot will be pointed right at him.”
I push myself off the floor and slowly walk to his crate, still watching her every move. When I get near him, I do my best to soothe him with soft words, but he keeps barking. It takes a minute or two, but he finally quiets down to a menacing growl.
I finally move my eyes from her, scanning the room for a weapon. There’s nothing, not one fucking thing I can use to defend myself. I look back at her, trying to decide if I can take her. Without the gun in her hand, I could have her on her ass in a second. With the gun, I have no choice but to sit back and see what happens. I’m not going to let her shoot me, but I’ll take my time and see if I can keep her talking long enough for someone to come get her crazy ass the fuck out of here.
“Tito was happy with me. He loved me. Everything was good until you came along,” she says in a growl of her own. “When you came around, nobody else mattered. Nothing mattered but his precious baby girl.”
I’m not sure what she is talking about. Does she mean now or years ago? I can’t even guess, and I don’t really care. The only thing I care about is figuring out how the hell I’m going to get out of this mess, so silence is my only response.
Kendra stops her pacing and shakes her head. “I’m standing here with a damn gun in my hand, and you’re not even scared of me. You never were, were you?”
She couldn't be more wrong. I’m scared out of my fucking mind, so scared I can barely keep myself standing. However, I know not to let her see my fear. I learned a long time ago, Kendra gets off on my fear. Even when I was a little girl, she seemed to enjoy scaring the shit out of me.
“Answer me,” she screams, stomping her foot like a spoiled child.
“I’m not scared of you because I know you would never hurt me,” I lie, hoping she believes the bullshit I am spewing. “You’re a good person, Kendra.”
She blinks as if no one has ever said anything like that to her before. They probably haven’t. She’s not a good person, doesn’t have a good bone in her body. She was born bad and will die bad. That will happen the minute Van and my dad find out about this. Hopefully, that will be any time now.
Surely, Erin and Kat called Van the moment she shot at the screen. Maybe, Dad and Van haven’t got too far out of town yet. If not, they should be pulling into the driveway any minute. At least, that is what I am telling myself. If not, I am completely and utterly fucked.
“Tito loved me,” she says, breaking the momentary silence. “He made me his old lady, so he had to love me.”
That’s not true. I don’t know the whole story, but I do know that he only claimed her as a favor to Crew. He kept her around because of Van. I don’t know why he didn’t get rid of her the minute he turned eighteen, but I know for sure he never felt one ounce of love for her.
“He still loves you,” I state with a slow nod, willing to say whatever I need to keep her from pulling the trigger.
“Van loves me, too. No matter what he says, he loves me. I’m his momma; he has to love me. He would do anything for me.” Kendra gives a frantic nod of her own, her movements jerky. “Only Crew didn’t love me, but he was supposed to. I did everything for him, gave him a son, but he still didn’t love me.”
“I’m sure Crew lov—” I start, but she cuts me off with a shake of her head.
“No, he didn’t and now he never will!” she screams, lifting her free hand to her head and pulling her hair. “Brass promised not to tell anyone, but he’s going to. He’s going to tell Crew everything, and he’ll hate me forever.”
My stomach drops, knowing there is only one thing she can be talking about. I have to be wrong, have to be. There is no way the man I consider my friend would sleep with Kendra. Not only is she a crazy bitch, but she is his best friend’s mom and was his Pres’s old lady. Surely, Brass wouldn’t betray them in such a way.
“Crew won’t understand, won’t understand Brass wasn’t a kid anymore,” she says, causing bile to rise up my throat.
I immediately start to pray, asking God to make Brass an asshole that would betray Van and Dad. I’d rather that be true than what I think Kendra is about to say. I start praying even harder when I see Van sliding along the wall behind her. I would give anything to keep him from hearing the next words out of her mouth.
He lifts his finger to his mouth, letting me know to keep my mouth shut. I do as he orders, lowering my eyes. I don’t want her to know he’s there. I doubt she would actually shoot him, but she is tweaking so bad right now that she might not even realize what she is doing.
“He was thirteen. That’s not a kid,” she says in a fucked-up attempt to excuse herself. “He may have been crying, but I know he wanted me to do it. He wanted it every time, no matter what he said.”
My eyes jerk up at her words, going to Van once again. I see a look of pure devastation cross his face and can’t stop my breakfast from spewing out. I grab hold of Denver’s kennel and drop to my knees as my body heaves painfully. My mind fills with the image of Brass as a young boy. I can see it clearly, can see this bitch ripping his world to shreds.
“You’re fucking sick!” Van shouts before the sound of a fist hitting flesh fills the room.
A split second later, the pistol flies across the room, and Kendra drops to the floor. I turn my head just enough to see blood trickling from her lips. I watch as she attempts to push herself up, but Van lays his hand on her shoulder and holds her in place. My eyes are glued to her face when he places his other hand on the back of her head and gives it a brutal twist. The snap of her neck breaking hits my ears just before the room goes completely silent.
I don’t even realize a scream has left my mouth until Van pulls me off the floor. He drags me right past her, up the stairs to our room. My entire body is in shock as he leads me to the bathroom. Once in there, he pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it on the floor then turns on the faucet.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he says, grabbing a washcloth from the shelf.
After getting it wet, he washes off my face. He does this gently, running the cool cloth over every inch of skin. When he is done, it lands on the floor beside my shirt. Then, he grabs the mouthwash and fills the top.
“Rinse out your mouth, Ronni,” he orders, holding it to my lips.
I do as he orders, my body trembling the entire time. When I am finished, he drags me into the bedroom, grabs one of his tees, and pulls it over my head. My body is running on auto-pilot as I slide my arms through the holes.
“She’s gone now. She can’t ever hurt you again,” he states as he leads me to the bed and pushes me down. “I’ve gotta go take care if this shit.”
I watch him walk away, trying to make sense of his words. It takes a few minutes for my mind to clear enough to understand. By ‘this shit,' he means his mother’s body. I can’t let him do that on his own, no matter how damn freaked out I feel.
Taking a deep breath, I push myself off the bed and force my legs to carry myself down the steps. When I hit the bottom, I hear him talking on the phone, and my heart breaks for what he must be going through.
“I killed the bitch, Tito,” he says, his voice breaking with each word. “I fucking killed my own mother.”
My chest tightens, realizing that is something he is going to carry around with him the rest of his life. No matter what she did, no matter what she could have done, he is going to regret ending her life.
“The shit she was saying… Fuck, brother. I can’t get that shit out of my mind,” he growls, his voice hard and cold. “If I could, I would kill her again.”
Okay, maybe Van isn’t feeling any regret right now. It will come with time, and it is going to hit him hard as hell. He is going to be filled with anger, guilt, pain, and a million other fucked up emotions. I’m trying to think of how I can help him when he suddenly turns as if he could feel me behind him.
“See you in five,” he says, sliding the phone into his pocket.
He immediately comes to me and pulls me into his arms. I bury my head against his chest and hold him close, hoping he can feel how much I love him.
“You need to go back upstairs, darlin’,” he tells me, leaning back just enough to look into my eyes. “I’ll come and get you as soon as we get rid of her.”
Hearing him talk about his mother’s body like it is a piece of trash sends another wave of shock through my body, but I push it away. I have to be strong for him right now. When I have a few minutes alone, I can have a breakdown. I just shake my head as he wipes the tears from my cheeks that I did not even know were falling.
Taking a deep breath, I pull away. “I’m okay.”
The sound of Denver barking is echoing throughout the house. He doesn’t sound quite as ferocious now, but he still sounds on edge. He wants out, wants to make sure I’m okay, but that’s not going to happen. With the way things are going, he’d probably attack her body. Van may not mind that, but I definitely would.
“Why don’t you take Denver out back for a few minutes?” he asks as if he can read my mind.
“That may not be a good idea,” I reply, looking over his shoulder to where Kendra’s body is still sprawled across the floor.
He looks back then nods, obviously getting my meaning. He pulls me into his arms again, holding me tight. He’s quiet for a few minutes, both of us lost in our thoughts. As bad as it sounds, all I can think is that there is a dead woman lying on our living room floor and I want someone to get her the fuck out of here.
The silence continues for a few long minutes until I hear the sounds of bikes pulling into the driveway. I let out a relieved breath, knowing the cavalry has arrived. Now, I can go hide in the bedroom and cry my fucking eyes out.