Stone Deep: An Alpha Bad Boy Romance (Stone Brothers Book 3) (11 page)

I gritted my teeth in rage as he spoke. Slade hadn’t moved a muscle, but I could sense a heated tension radiating off of him. Something I’d never felt from him before.

I pulled in a shuddering breath. “In other words, you broke it off with her, and you knew she was depressed about it.”

He shrugged. “She had a big meltdown, and I knew she was upset. But her death wasn’t my fault, and the cops know that I wasn’t at home. So, I guess I’ve got nothing more to say.” He started tapping the drumsticks on the stool in front of the counter.

I took a step toward him, but Slade put out his arm to stop me. He shook his head so slightly that I might have been just imagining it. He didn’t turn to face me but kept an unflinching gaze on Damon.

“So, you weren’t around when Perris died?” Slade asked suddenly.

Damon shot him a cold glare. “Just said I wasn’t at home, so you can shut down your interrogation now, asshole. You know all that ink doesn’t make you any tougher.”

Slade kept his cool. I, on the other hand, wanted to pound my fists into Damon’s obnoxious face.

Slade looked at me. “Britton, play your sister’s voicemail.”

I stared at him, not completely sure I’d heard or understood his request.

“Let him hear it,” Slade said with an encouraging look. I had no idea what he was up to but all I really wanted was to get the hell out of there.

“Yeah, the cops said Perris’s cell phone showed that her last call was to you.” Damon was holding back a grin. “Guess she made a final plea for help, but you didn’t come to her aid. Sort of makes it seem that her death was your fault, since no one else was around to help her. Maybe that’s why you have been such a fucking, obsessive bitch these last few months.”

“Play the fucking voicemail,” Slade said through a clamped jaw.

I pulled out my phone, and as I thumbed to her voicemail, Damon headed to the front door to let us know that he wanted us gone. The second my sister’s voice came through the phone, he stopped and listened. Not, it seemed, for sentimental reasons to hear her last words, but to make sure that it sealed his assertion that he’d had nothing to do with her death. The message was short and cryptic and pretty useless. I looked at Slade wondering what the heck all this was about.

He shook his head. “Start it again, but turn up the volume to make sure we can hear the beginning.”

“I just got off work, and I need my beer. So why don’t you two go play detective somewhere else. I’m done here,” Damon snarled as he reached for the doorknob.

I wasn’t completely sure what was going on, but the look Slade was shooting me told me to play the message. I turned up the volume. The background sound that I’d heard as many times as I’d heard Perris’s final words came through loud and clear and like a punch in the stomach. It was a rhythmic tapping sound that I’d heard but had ignored every time, until now.

“Drumsticks,” I said quietly.

Damon’s dark eyes flickered with confusion.

I looked at Slade. “You are brilliant. I’ve listened to that message twenty times and never noticed.”

“That’s because you couldn’t hear anything over the despair in your sister’s final words.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?”

“Drumsticks. You were playing those fucking drumsticks in the background when she called me.”

The same gray pallor that had washed over Damon’s face when he’d first thought he was staring at a ghost on his front stoop returned. “You’re fucking crazy,” he said.

“You were home,” I said, coldly. “You fucking liar. You were home.” The rage in my tone had been replaced by utter disbelief.

He stood there for a second, obviously trying to find his way out of this. But the evidence was there in my hand.

“So fucking what? I didn’t know she was in there taking a bottle of pills. I didn’t know she was dead until I went in and found her.” He laughed harshly. “I might have put the idea in her crazy, stoned mind by telling her to just make it easy on both of us and take the pills. Didn’t realize just how fucking nuts she was.”

I was frozen in hatred. Tears streamed down my face. My sister had been in complete torment her last days, and it had all been Damon’s fault.

Again Damon reached for the door. He looked at Slade. “Get this crazy bitch out of here.”

Slade’s movement had been so fast, he was just a blur. Drumsticks flew across the room and pinged off the adjacent wall before rolling across the tile floor. In that same space of time that it took the drumsticks to fly across the room, Slade had spun Damon around and had him pinned against the wall. Slade had Damon’s arm wrenched painfully behind him and his face was smashed sideways against the plaster. Damon’s angry and equally scared eyes darted to the side to get a look at the man who now had him completely immobile.

Slade spoke calmly, coolly as he leaned his mouth closer to Damon’s ear. “Let’s get this straight. You had a lot to do with Perris’s death. You fucking taunted a woman who was heartbroken about you walking out on her. You lied to the police, so I think we can safely assume you did that because you had supplied her with the drugs. Even if you didn’t open her mouth and pop those pills in, you were responsible for her dying. And you’re going to have to take that to your fucking grave.”

Damon struggled in his grasp, but Slade held him like a steel trap.

“Now, I’m going to let you go, and Britton and I are going to walk out of here. But if you say one word to either of us, if you so much as fucking breathe in our direction, I
will
hurt you.”

Slade released him. Damon turned slowly around and rubbed his shoulder. I was sure he’d take a swing at Slade. Instead, he stood pressed with his back against the wall staring at Slade as if he was the devil himself.

“Let’s go,” Slade said still keeping an eye on Damon.

I walked over to the lamp and unplugged it. I picked it up. Slade opened the door. I stopped in front of Damon. “By the way, Perris and I talked about everything, as you know. She told me she had to fake it with you all the time because you were a lousy lover. So, if your new girlfriend is panting and crying out your name, it’s an act.”

We stepped out under a layer of storm clouds. Bolts of lightning were lighting up the sky. All of it felt surreal. I held my lamp in one arm and I wrapped my free hand around Slade’s arm. Everything Damon had said was like a stab in my heart. Perris had died steeped in heartbreak, and it seemed Damon’s cruel words and the easy access to drugs had pushed her over the edge. It didn’t take away the ache I felt thinking I might very well have saved her if I’d heard the message. It was a sting of regret I’d never outlive, but now, I knew more of what had happened on that awful day.

We reached the car just as the first heavy drops fell. I stopped and placed the lamp on the hood of the car and threw my arms around Slade’s neck. Water drops plunked on our heads as we kissed. I pulled my mouth from his and smiled up at him. “I started this journey with a major crush, but I can tell you, Slade Stone, that, even though it’s not worth a whole lot, as of two minutes ago, you own my heart.”

“That’s good to hear, Tink, cuz I think you’ve owned mine since the start.” He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me.

Chapter 19 

Slade

We were running on adrenaline. Facing off with Damon, one of the worst assholes I’d ever met and I’d met plenty, seemed to have given Britton some sense of closure. I was sure she’d still have a tough time dealing with her sister’s missed message, but I hoped that it had put an end to her marching into restaurants with fake guns. One thing was for damn sure, this trip had brought us closer together.

The windshield wipers squeaked as they cleared a semi-circle of glass, only to have it covered with rain again seconds later. Just as we’d been warned by the store clerk, the rain came down in sheets, nearly opaque layers of water covered the windshield. In minutes, the shallow gutters running along the street were flowing like rivers.

Britton curled her arms around herself. Raindrops glistened on her creamy skin and her dark brown hair. She leaned forward and smeared away some of the condensation on the front windshield. “Oh my gosh, we really are a couple of tourists. We’re the only people still driving.” She looked out the side window. “In a few seconds, you’ll need to lower the propeller and rudder because this car is going to be floating.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I happen to know how to captain a boat. In fact, I’m pretty damn good at it. Although this car boat might be a challenge.”

She leaned back. “Is there anything you can’t do well?”

“Plenty. I was a shitty student. I can’t cook, unless you count pouring cereal into a bowl as cooking, then I’m a damn chef. I’m an embarrassingly bad dancer and I can’t fucking whistle. Don’t ask me why, some kind of tongue defect.”

She laughed. “The shitty student, bad cook and embarrassingly bad dancer, I can see. But, I’ve got news for you, there’s not a damn thing defective about your tongue.”

The water was rising fast. We could see an abandoned gas station on the next block. It was on the north side of the street and was a good five feet above street level.

“Not sure how high this water will get, but I’m going to park up there in that empty service station. Something tells me, the water drains away as fast as it floods. We’ll wait it out there.” I turned up the driveway, and as we crossed the raging flow of water running alongside the curb, it felt as if we were momentarily adrift. But as the tires reached higher grounds, the traction returned. I pulled up under the shelter of the pumps. I turned off the car and we watched as the landscape that had been dry as bone just minutes before became a shallow, churning lake.

Britton reached into the backseat and pulled a dry shirt from her bag. She yanked off her wet one and pulled on the dry.

Her bottom lip trembled slightly as she curled back into the seat and stared out at the storm. She hadn’t really said much, but I knew she was reliving our visit with Damon. I could almost feel the sadness rolling off of her.

“I don’t understand why she left me.”

I leaned back and stared at the heavy drops falling on the windshield. They pounded a steady beat on the top of the car. “My brothers and I were just kids when my mom decided to pop a bunch of pills and slip away. It was winter break. The rest of our classmates were busy decorating trees and wrapping presents. We were just sitting in our shitty little house hoping that we’d make it through the break without my dad blowing a fuse and taking it out on one of us . . . or all of us. Even my mom couldn’t avoid his wrath. That winter it just all became too much for her. She climbed into bed with her drugs and that was where we found her.”

Britton reached over and took hold of my hand.

“I’m not telling you this for sympathy, Brit. My brothers and I never had the time to feel sorry for ourselves. We were too busy trying to survive. Depression and drugs are a dangerous combination. We all dealt with our mom’s death differently, but we all felt betrayed. All I could think was that she’d abandoned us and left us with the worst dad on Earth. She’d chickened out and left us to deal with the sadness of losing her and with the everyday struggle that came with living with our dad. For a long time, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her picture. She had these stupid little dishtowels with roosters on them that she loved. I threw them in the trash. All I could think was that we weren’t important enough to keep her from killing herself. It was like taking a knife to the heart. But, eventually, it came to me that by that point she was no longer thinking about anything except the dark hole she’d fallen into. It wasn’t that she hadn’t loved us. It was that her sadness was stronger. I haven’t forgiven her completely, but I do see her side of it a little better now.”

Tears were beading like tiny diamonds on her long lashes as she lifted my hand to her mouth and kissed my knuckles. “For a
tattooed punk
, you are pretty deep. I know it’ll take some time. The everlasting ache of knowing that she’s gone and there’s nothing I can do to change that will plague me forever. But coming here helped. I also officially hate Damon even more now.”

I shook my head. “Yeah, I’ve met some really bottom of the sewer pump scumbags before, but that guy wins the fucking crown. I’m still having a hard time figuring out how I walked out of there without pounding him. I wanted to, badly. My fists were curled pretty fucking tight.”

“But you kept your cool, and that’s another reason you’re so damn crush worthy.” She looked out the window and gasped. She quickly wiped away a bigger spot to peer through. “Oh my gosh!” She opened the car door.

“Where are you going?” I asked, but she was already ankle deep in the flowing water. I shot out of the driver’s side and stomped through the water behind her as she half ran, half stumbled toward a bus bench. Its seat was submerged in the raging river of rain.

The water running along the sidewalk had a strong pull to it, and I nearly lost my footing when my ankle bent over on a rock. “Shit, Britton, what the hell are you doing?” I yelled over the roar of the floodwaters and the pounding rainfall.

She ignored me and continued toward the bench. That was when I caught a glimpse of the drenched, orange kitten clinging to the top edge of the bench.

Britton waded through the water, moving in slow motion against the downhill current. She reached the kitten just as the little cat lost its grip. Britton plucked the animal from the water and smiled broadly as she held it high and out of harm’s way. A second later, her eyes widened and her knees gave way as a loose piece of wood knocked her off balance. I plowed through the water and lunged for her shirt. She was still holding tight to the scared kitten as I yanked her back to her feet.

“Let’s get back to the car,” I said.

She held tightly to the cat, and I held tightly to her as we waded back up the inclined driveway to the gas pumps. We jumped inside the car and shut the doors. Our struggle to catch our breath thickened the haze on the windows.

Britton stared down at the kitten. Thin streams of watery blood trickled down her arm from the small holes where the cat had clawed her skin. Her knees were bleeding from being pushed down in the flood. But she was smiling.

“I just happened to glance that direction,” Britton said as she reached into her bag for yet another dry shirt. This time she pulled out two and she wrapped one around the drenched kitten. “I think I’ll call her Bolt.” She looked up at me. “Unless you still have your heart set on that one.”

“Nope.” I reached over and rubbed the cat’s head. “I think I can hand that one over to this little guy.”

The kitten immediately snuggled under Britton’s chin for warmth. “It’s all about timing,” she said quietly as she stroked the wet fur. “If I’d looked out the window one minute later, this little guy would be heading down the sewer.”

“Yep. That’s life. Good or bad, timing is everything.”

“The rain is slowing, and it looks like the water is slowly receding. And now we officially know what a desert flash flood looks like.” She lifted the kitten and rubbed her nose against it. “And I have a new kitten.” She leaned over the console and kissed me. “Overall, a pretty darn good road trip.”