Poughkeepsie (48 page)

Damn it to hell. I need to tell him why tonight is so dangerous. I need this parade of assholes to go away.

Then Francis decided to jump in. “Chris, you got to be pretty lame to lose your girl to the homeless. You could’ve just given the shitbag a dollar, not your regular bearded clam.”

Livia let the fighting dissolve out of focus around her. She’d have to connect with Blake here, among the idiots—with Dave grinding his pencil dick into her back and Chris making angry hand gestures at Wilson. With smoke blowing in the wind to make her eyes tear up.

“Look at me. Please.” It was more than a whisper but less than a shout. She got quieter. “Blake, please.”

His green eyes found hers. She spoke as if they were alone.

“I made a mistake,” Livia began. “I know you overheard me talking to my dad. I needed him to understand who you are, but I had to talk on his level. As a father he needed to know I was being decisive. I don’t think you heard the last part when I told him you were the path I wanted to take.”

A flicker. Was it hope? Livia smiled.

Blake’s lips moved, and she knew he’d counted her smile. Wilson, Francis, and Chris continued their heated exchange. Every other word was
cocksucker
. Dave sniffed the back of her neck, and revulsion rolled along her spine. Hope made her weak and strong, all at once.

“I’ll make mistakes. I know I will,” she continued. “I want to be perfect for you. But I’m human. I can only be me. That probably isn’t enough for a soul as beautiful as yours. But if I hurt you by accident, can’t we stay and hold hands until we fix it? Can’t we fix it?” Livia now spoke louder than she wanted to, but she had to be heard over the cacophony.

“Chris’s a loser!” Dave shouted.

Livia refocused to block him out and keep her bond with Blake.

Blake bit his lip. “You’re perfect.”

“No, sweetheart. I can’t even pretend to be perfect. Look where we are right now. That’s my fault, Blake.”

Dave’s “Chris’s a loser!” mantra grew louder. Chris whipped around and pointed at him. “Don’t call me that! I’m not a loser. I’m
not
a fucking loser.” His eyes blazed with manic intensity.

Dave tried his luck again. “Whoever smelt it dealt it.”

All the bastards fell quiet. Dave had turned the tables on Chris, the wounded alpha. The clearing now offered only an occasional pop from the smoke-drowned leaves.

Here. I need to tell him now.
“Blake, I love you,” Livia confessed quietly.

The tears in her eyes had nothing to do with smoke this time, and Chris began to shake with fury. Livia leaned toward Blake and tried again, louder still.

“Blake, I love you.”

Chris closed the distance until he was inches from her traitorous face.

Livia shouted in the silence because now her soul was free. “I love you, Blake!”

She smiled as he mouthed the words back to her.

Chris slapped her viciously—once, twice, three times without pause. Livia’s neck and face pounded with pain. The inside of her cheek was stuck on her top molar.

“Fuck you, Livia. I’m not a loser,” Chris shouted in her face.

She spat out a mouthful of blood and looked at his angry, red features.

“I’m so ashamed.” Livia felt blood filling her mouth again.

She kept her eyes on Chris, but saw Blake finally taking action against his captors in her peripheral vision. He slammed an elbow into Wilson’s face and gave a twisting crack to Francis’s throat. Both men fell to the ground, writhing.

I’m almost glad Chris slapped me.

Chris pointed a shaky finger at her. “You
should
be ashamed. It’s about time.”

“I’m ashamed of
you
, Chris,” Livia said fiercely. “I’m ashamed I ever let you touch me. I should have saved myself for Blake.” She topped off her statement by heaving bloody spit into Chris’s face.

As Chris reached to grab her, Blake sprinted and took a flying leap that hit him in the side. Chris almost folded in half with the force. The two men hit the ground, and Blake executed a graceful forward roll. Chris lay prone, the wind knocked out of him.

Blake was up and punching before Chris could move. Three solid punches to the jaw were the swift justice Blake deemed appropriate. Chris curled into the fetal position and moaned. Blake pushed himself to standing and got to Livia. He put his hands gently on her face.

Dave seemed frozen. Blake took his gaze from Livia long enough to growl at him, and Dave took off running. The moaning twosome that had been Blake’s restraints now got to their feet. Wilson made his plans known immediately: “Fuck this shit. Let’s get out of here. I’m not being all revenge for the nerd. Chris Simmer’s an ass clown.” The two helped each other stagger away like rats from a sinking ship.

Blake rubbed Livia’s cheekbones gently with his thumbs. “I can’t believe you came for me. My brave Livia.” He kissed her lips and looked concerned. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine, Blake, but we have to get out of here. Some of Beckett’s enemies are after you.” Livia stroked his bruised face.

“Then why are you out here?” he asked, eyes instantly angry.

Livia gave the perfect answer. “This is the only place I knew I’d get to see you.”

Blake kissed her lingeringly on the forehead, then grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trees. He took care to go a different direction than their attackers-turned-victims had fled. Livia smiled, in spite of the situation. In the woods Blake could keep them safe for days.

Then the distinct sound of a gun being cocked stopped Blake like he’d just stepped on a landmine.

“Now hold the fuck up, you two shitty lovebirds,” Chris’s voice echoed through the air. “That’s not how this plays out.”

Livia could hear Chris stepping through the leaves. Closer, closer.

“Livia, when I count to three, I want to you to run into the trees,” Blake whispered. “And keep running. Promise me.” He sounded calm and determined.

“Absolutely not.” Livia turned from their escape route. “I’m never leaving you.”

“Livia, please.” Blake squeezed her hand and tried to force her in the right direction.

She squeezed right back.

Chris seemed to think the gun meant he could call the shots. “Come the fuck back over here. We got some shit to discuss.”

Blake kept his body between Livia and the gun. Chris motioned the couple to the center of the clearing.

“See, they were calling me a loser, and I just can’t have that. Livia, you’re making everything so tough for me. You playing Juliet to this bastard’s Romeo affects
my
reputation. Do you know what people will say? I had witnesses here tonight. It’ll be all over Twitter what a punk I am. A fucking loser punk. Livia, those are the kind of people I beat up. I can’t be one of them.”

He paused for a moment to reposition the gun in his hand. “So you need to understand, I have to do this. I need to do this. Really, it’s what you want. It’s what you asked for. Maybe a murder-suicide will let those guys know who’s in fucking charge around here, eh?” A sick plan solidified in Chris’s eyes.

Livia tried to see him around Blake. “You’re delusional,” she said. “This has gone way too far.”

Blake crouched slightly, as if trying to calculate Chris’s next move.

“Murder-suicide? Now you’re going to kill yourself? What the hell?” Livia wished she could slap Chris back into reality.

Blake squeezed her hand and spoke over his shoulder, “Don’t say any more.”

“No, Livia. God, you’re a stupid fuck,” Chris said. “Now stand next to each other so I can see you.”

Blake hesitated.

“Fucking do it.” Chris’s voice had a desperate edge.

Livia stepped up next to Blake. She had to talk Chris down.

“I’ll make this work,” Chris said. “Homeless bastard goes apeshit on the chick too stupid to stay away from him. It’ll be a good lesson for other ladies.”

The gleam in Chris’s eyes sent a silent scream of terror through Livia. “Chris, it won’t work like that,” she quickly countered. “You’re just angry. You make awful choices when you’re angry, remember?” Livia held an open palm to him, trying to soothe his unhinged mind.

But in an instant Blake stepped in front of her, turning his back to Chris and the gun. The shot was so much louder than anything else in the woods. And it seemed to echo forever. Livia watched Blake’s face in horror as he fell toward her, leaning for a moment like the Tower of Pisa. She staggered back, trying to hold him as they both collapsed to the forest floor. Livia knew he was tremendously injured when his body hit hers so hard. If he could have, she knew Blake would’ve softened the blow.

His breath was a sucking gasp that sounded more like a draining tub than a man filling his lungs with air. Then she heard him form the words “Play dead.”

So Livia did. She closed her eyes as much as she dared. She could still see outlines through her lashes. She squeezed her hands against Blake’s chest.
Hold on, Blake. Stay with me
.

A sharp pain in her side reminded her of the Mag light in the inside pocket of her jacket. She snaked her arm out and found the opening. She could hear Chris cursing.

“Motherfucker. I shot them both. Fuck my life.”

Who he was talking to, Livia wasn’t sure—maybe the devil in his head. She wrapped her hand around the flashlight and waited. Her heart pounded so hard it felt like one giant explosion, not individual beats. Blake’s body pressed on her ribcage.
Is he playing dead or being dead?

Chris stomped over to the pile of lovers and yanked Blake off of Livia. As soon as she had Chris’s head in her sight, she sat up and swung the flashlight as hard as she could. It bounced off his skull with a thud.

For years John had trained his girls in self-defense. “Just common sense stuff,” he liked to say. “Hit your attacker three times and run.” This mantra kept Livia swinging. She pushed herself to her knees and onto her feet. She hit Chris again, her blow landing on his neck.

He crouched from the pain and moaned. “Ow, ow, ow.”

His hand still held the gun. Livia hit that hand with the flashlight, and the weapon thumped to the ground. She gave Chris a quick sidekick that was not nearly as powerful as she’d hoped. He grabbed her foot and dragged her down with him.

As she fell, Livia found her knee right above his testicles. She put all her weight on that leg, pressing on his soft parts. Chris flung her off and grabbed his privates. She lifted her body off the soil with a mouthful of leaves.

“Fuck. Rrrr.” Chris seemed to be trying to get away from his own balls as he writhed on the ground.

Livia traced the ground with her hands and found the warm gun. As soon as she had it pointed at Chris, she hazarded a look at Blake, but she already knew things weren’t good. He’d never let her fight Chris on her own if he had a choice. She gritted her teeth at the sight of his motionless body and turned back to Chris, who she found propping himself up.

“Don’t move. Just don’t move.” Livia’s voice was laced with agony.

“Liv, we can do this. We can say the bastard attacked you, and I saved you. I’ll do that.” He used one hand to massage his nuts.

Maybe it was the word
bastard
. Maybe it was Chris using the word
we
. But Livia leveled the pistol with his head.

“Livia, you’re not a murderer.” Chris spoke quickly now. “You won’t kill me. I had our whole life planned out—and you couldn’t do that to my mom,” he suddenly added. Chris’s face was as serious as he ever got.

This was Chris
trying
to be the Chris from years ago, when they’d first met. She approached him, keeping the gun pointed between his eyes. She stood with her feet apart and her shoulders squared.
I want him to die.
Her hands shook as she looked at him. He lacked the sense, it seemed, to run away.
I can’t be like him. I won’t.

Livia changed her aim and Chris breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God, Liv. I thought you—”

Bang
.

Livia fired the gun into Chris’s right knee. As he reeled, she took aim at his left.

Bang.

Chris’s screaming made the sounds of the cold night into a horror movie soundtrack. Livia put the safety on the gun and slid the hot metal into her pocket.

She turned her back on him. He couldn’t chase her now. She sprinted to Blake’s side and found him blinking, so she knew he was alive. She actually sobbed with relief.

“Blake, where were you hit?” Livia dropped to her knees to feel his chest. The moon gave him an ethereal bath. His breathing was shallow and wet.

“Livia.” He coughed and winced.

“I’m right here.” She searched her pockets for her cell phone, then remembered it was in the cruiser with a dead battery.
Of course.
“Do you have a phone?” Livia lay her hand on his forehead. He was cold.