One (28 page)

"I'm Jules
Hendricks. I go to school with Pax."

"School." He
nods. "Semester 's almost over, I hear."

"Yes," I say
politely. "School's out while we study for finals. They start
next week."

He nods. "Study
hard and you both will do well."

"Yes, sir." I
don't say anymore. My stomach is in knots. I can't very well say:
hi,
I know you're a cop and I'm pretty sure I'm a criminal, but could you
help me take down some bad guys and maybe work something behind the
scenes so I don't land in jail? I
have a feeling no matter how
kind his eyes look, he won't take that sort of news well.

Bill watches us
closely, and I know he's too good at his job to not suspect
something's up. I'm sure they're trained on reading body language,
and awkward lengthy silences. I bite my bottom lip. Pax told me to
trust him, so I'm going to try.
If he fails, I'll run,
I tell
myself.
I'll make them chase me to the ends of the earth.

"Is there
something you'd like my help with?" Bill finally asks in a
gentle tone when no one makes a move to speak. His gaze is sharp, and
I'm willing to bet this is his police voice, kind and caring,
designed to coax confessions and guilt. I swallow the lump in my
throat.

"Yes," Pax
answers for me, his voice low and precise. "Jules and I would
like your help on something."

Bill nods. "Go
on," he urges.

"First, before we
begin, I want you to make a promise to me."

Bill's eyebrow shoots
up, looking a little alarmed. "A promise?" he repeats, as
if he didn't hear correctly.

"Yes," Pax
affirms. "A promise. Can you do that?"

Pause.

"I'm afraid I
don't know if I can. I'd need to know what we're discussing first."

"If you can't make
a promise, then it's a no go." Abruptly, Pax stands up. "Thanks,
Uncle. Tell Aunt Gail I'll come back to visit. Jules and I need to go
now."

Bill uncrosses his
legs, leaning back to look at Pax. "Don't be so hasty now, son,"
he says quietly. "What sort of promise do you need?"

"We want your
advice on something."

"Of course,"
Bill answers instantly.

"I want your
advice as an uncle to his son using all his knowledge as a police
officer to help give that advice. I don’t want Bill the police
officer. I want my uncle." Pax looks him straight in the eye.
"Do you understand?"

Bill's face is
expressionless, a perfect mask to hide everything he's thinking. I
know what Pax's plan is now. He wants to have his uncle approach our
situation the way an uncle might,
but
to also use all of his
clout as an officer to help us out of our mess. I squirm next to Pax.
I don't see this turning out well.

"Will I be tempted
to become Bill the police officer?"
Will I need to arrest
anyone in this room?

"No," Pax
answers immediately. "At least, I hope not."

It's clear Bill doesn’t
like that answer. His gaze shifts to me, and I have trouble meeting
his eyes.

"I'd like you to
help us, but if you can't that's all right," Pax says, forcing
his uncle's eyes back on him. "I won't think less of you because
of it."

There's a pregnant
silence, one in which I'm sure Bill's mind is furiously working,
figuring out a way to get information from us without committing to
anything.

"Uncle," Pax
says softly. "It's really important that you stay my uncle
through this. If you feel like you can't, please do not try to help.
It will only make it worse for the both of us."

"You know I would
do anything in my power for you, son, you know that."

"I do," Pax
acknowledges softly, his fingers squeezing mine. "I have that
same love for another person and I'd like to help her out. I need to
know if you can do this with me or if I should do this on my own,
because either way, I'm already involved."

Bill looks pained with
this confession. I don't blame him. His mind's probably jumped to all
sorts of conclusions, and I'm willing to bet all of them are bad. Pax
remains steadfast though, never breaking eye contact with his uncle,
not even when a flare of anger is evident in his eyes. Pax won't back
down, and I know he's putting it all on the table for his uncle: help
me and I stay, or don't and I do this on my own, damn the
consequences.

I want to run in anger.
I want to curl in a ball in shame. Pax doesn't deserve this. His
uncle doesn't either. They both shouldn't have to get involve in
my
problem. As good as it felt to have someone listen to what happened,
I know that I can't let Pax and his uncle risk anything for me.

"Pax, I've
decided-"

"All right,"
Bill says.

I freeze.
What?
I feel Pax physically relax, and I realize he'd been strung up the
whole time, sitting straight as cardboard while engaging in some sort
of mental communication with his uncle.

"I promise to help
you the best that I can."
I promise to try my best not to
arrest anyone here.

Pax nods. "Thank
you." There is a moment of silence while Pax contemplates
something in his head. "Do you know anyone by the name of Juan
Gonzales?" he abruptly asks.

The only movement Bill
makes is a slight widening of his eyes. It's so small I briefly
wonder if I saw it at all.

"I know many Juan
Gonzales's."

"Do you know of
one in Minnesota? An important man. A-" Pause. "A drug
lord."

The silence is
immeasurable. It seems to stretch and stretch as Bill sits immobile,
and occasionally blinking. "That's classified information,"
he finally says.

"What if I told
you I know someone who can get you his location?"

I become rigid. My
heart is going to burst out of my chest and Bill will see how black
it is.

"In exchange for
that information, that person will require a pardon for any actions
he or she has taken that may be considered criminal activity."

I know Bill promised
not to, but I see the moment he shifts over from being an uncle to a
cop. "That's not possible. Aiding and abetting a criminal is
against the law-"

"Pardons occur all
the time. Say someone was driving at the wheel of a car and
accidently killed his parents. He got pardoned. He never went to jail
for it. He took
two
lives and
never went to jail for it.
A murderer. Free."

Bill clenches the
armrests beside him. His knuckles are white with the force of it.
"You're not a murderer, Reid," he whispers, his eyes wide
with shock and anger. "The drunk driver pushed you out of the
road. You had no choice! You tried the best you could. You-"

"I was drinking
too! I should've seen him! I would've if I hadn't turned back to yell
at them!"

Bill shakes his head
vigorously. "No.
No
. Stop it Reid. That man has a life
sentence for what he did. There is justice for your parents. You
carrying all this unnecessary guilt isn't healthy. You need to do
something to help you let it go."

"You're right,"
Pax is calm again, taking a shaky breath. "I'm doing something
to make it right. I'm helping to give back a life for the two lives I
helped take." Bill's expression is a mixture of anger, shock and
weariness. "If I can be pardoned for my role in what happened,
then this person can be pardoned for taking justice into her own
hands."

A heavy silence
descends. I love Pax for doing this, but at the same time, I hate
him. I hate him for using his uncle in this way. I hate him for
harboring guilt over something that's out of his control. I hate him
for needing to do this for me to help take his pain away. Most of
all, I hate myself for loving him so much that I'll let him do it.

"Can this person
get me to the location of Juan Gonzales?" Bill finally asks,
looking up.

I nod. His eyes fall to
me. "Yes," I whisper.

"Juan Gonzales is
reputed to have several factories where he produces his drugs. Can
this person take us to those places?"

I nod again. I want to
tell him that I know everything. I know how dangerous this man is. I
can help the police destroy Gonzales's empire.

"Then perhaps a
pardon can be negotiated."

I almost sigh with
relief. Pax squeezes my hand.

"There's more."
Bill leans back. He doesn't look surprised. He's probably seen a lot
in his line of work. His eyes are trained on me. I swallow, willing
my voice to sound stronger. "There's more," I repeat.
"Gonzales might be injured, or worse, dead. There are parts of
his empire that are still standing."
His factories and other
farms I didn't burn.
"There will always be someone to
replace him. Everything must be destroyed for the evil to stop.
Everything."

Red.

This time the color
comes with a sound: screams.

"Juan Gonzales is
at the center of this. If he falls, everything else should collapse
with him like dominos," Bill states.

I shake my head. "No."

Red.

"He didn't just
deal exclusively with drugs. His empire reached further than that. He
dabbled in other things. Evil things." I shudder. "He did
anything for money.
Anything
."

"Prostitution?"

I shake my head.

"Well then."
He sounds more impatient. "What is it?"

I lean in close and
whisper.

I watch his face lose
all color.

The nights are the
worst.

Sometimes I wake up in
a cold sweat, my heart racing, images flickering in my head like a
movie: Grandma's lifeless body, Braidon's determined face, Gonzales's
cold, calculating eyes. The nightmares that had, for the most part,
stopped months ago, are reappearing, snippets of my life that I
relive over and over again.

The days aren't much
better.

Sometimes I
feel
someone's eyes on me. It's a prickle of awareness down my spine, and
every hair on my body stands on end. I expect to see shadows or brown
eyes that glitter in the sunlight. When I turn around, I see none of
that. I see nothing, not even a single leaf amiss.

It's not paranoia. He's
here. I saw him with my own eyes.

He's not leaving
without me.

Sometimes, I feel like
I'm close to having a nervous breakdown. Pax does what he can to help
me relax. The only thing my anxiety doesn't seem to affect is our sex
life.
That
part's great. In fact, making love even helps with
my nightmares. But we can't have sex all day every day. Although, Pax
certainly tries.

"What's so funny?"
he asks, breaking into my thoughts. "You're smiling."

"Nothing."

"No, tell me,"
he insists. "What's so funny?"

"Only that you
must be the horniest Homosapien on the planet."

His chest puffs out.
"You think?" I roll my eyes. "I'm sure there's
something like that in the Guinness World Record. How would I get
that title though? Maybe how long I can sustain a boner," he
wonders out loud. "Or maybe how many times I can have sex in a
certain time? Maybe it's how many women that find me attractive? Or
maybe it's how many women I can make wet?" he continues to
contemplate. "Or how many I can make come? Or-"

"You're putting
way too much effort into thinking about this."

"Come on now,"
he nudges my shoulder with his. His hands don't leave the steering
wheel. "Wouldn't you feel proud if I was named horniest man on
the planet?"

I shoot him a crazed
look. "No."

"Oh."

I shake my head.
Men
.
There's silence as we drive the rest of the way there. Ever since the
incident with Braidon, we've been more careful on the road, talking
less and watching more.

When we reach our
destination, Pax pulls into a parking ramp. He puts the gear in park
and stops the engine.

"Nervous?" I
ask him with a smile. I already know the answer though. Boy Wonder
doesn't get nervous.

"Nope," he
answers.

"Most people
would."

"I'm not most
people."

I swat him on the
shoulder. "Jeez, how conceited can you be?"

He laughs. "What?
I just don’t get nervous about stuff like this. Try falling flat on
your face in front of national television and thousands of cheering
fans. This is nothing compared to that."

"It's Heart of
Love though," I argue. "I know how much you care and how
hard you've worked for this."

Pax helped put together
the fundraiser tonight. Right away after finals he and Cade have been
at Maddie's almost every day of the week. Alex told me Pax
specifically requested me. When I asked him about it, Pax told me I
help him see his vision more clearly. His answer made my heart do
little flips so I continued to serve them every day even though I
felt Alaina's rage like a lash.

The fundraiser is held
in a country club. Today there's sunshine and the weather is warm
enough to wear just a light jacket. Dead brown leaves peak out
underneath a thin layer of snow, reminding us that fall just passed,
and winter is only beginning. We get out of the car and Pax takes my
hand in his, rubbing each as if to warm it. I should tell him I'm not
cold, but I love it when he does sweet gestures like this. I stop
moving, watching him lightly rub my hand between two of his.

"You okay?"
he asks.

I know he's asking more
than whether I'm cold or not. Instantly, I see Braidon's face. I
recall the snarl of anger evident in his eyes. Then I'm drawn further
back. I remember blood. Blood everywhere. "Yes," I lie,
shuddering.

"You're
trembling."

"It's cold."

Pax pulls me into him,
his hands rubbing my back. Despite everything it sends shivers of
pleasure through me. His breath is warm on my cheek. "You'll be
okay. Everything will be over soon."