All This Time (25 page)

Chapter
Forty-Seven

“Are
you enjoying yourself tonight?”
Decks asks
walking up
behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He smiles against my neck
before pressing his lips to the base of my hairline. I nod and turn around to
face him, pulling away from his hold slightly.

“You
throw an incredible party,” I clear my throat hoping to sound happy and trying
to look pleased with our contact. “I don’t know when I have ever had more fun.”

His
entire little mafia accepted an invitation to celebrate with him at his mansion
for the past year’s success of his organization. Standing beside me, Natalie’s
eyes widen watching our exchange making me blush from head to feet. It’s a look
of disappointment more than shock. She knows what kind of player Decks is and
seeing us this intimate must not be what she expected. I already explained to
her, as well as him, that I’m not rushing into another relationship, but since
the night I slept in his bed for the first time his physical affections have
multiplied. He hasn’t forced a kiss on me, for which I am grateful, but he has
pecked my lips a few times, attempting to encourage me. Too bad for Decks, I
won’t be swayed.

Even
if he wasn’t evil, I wouldn’t let him kiss me with all the confusion zigzagging
around in my head over Blues. Yes, Blues is on the bad side of this freaking
war on drugs too. I can’t put my finger on it, but he just doesn’t give me the
same rough vibe that I get with every other drug dealer. I don’t know exactly
what his job is in their organization. But being Nelson’s second makes him
powerful and everyone respects the position. Although, he has probably done
despicable things that would make a grown man break there’s something that
keeps drawing me to him, something beyond the physical attraction. Maybe it’s
because he was once a lawman and I’m sensing only the good while completely
fooling myself into believing Kris’ words when she tried to convince me that a
man like him could change because of his love for me.

“How
can you always look so stunning, Angel,” Natalie asks, turning me out of Decks
arms so she can appraise my attire.

“Oh,
this,” I offer playfully looking down at my black and silver maxi dress. “It’s
a must have on all the fashion runways.”

Our
conversation about clothing bores Decks enough that he releases me and walks
toward some of his minions. I watch him only briefly and then fall victim to
Natalie’s tales of “kids do the most amazing things.” Her eyes twinkle while
telling me everything that Simone and Dean have been up to since I last saw
them. I know what’s coming. Her trip out of town isn’t that far off and she
will once again ask me to keep them.

“Angel,”
a weak voice murmurs from behind me. Spinning around to greet whoever it is, I
gasp loudly when I barely recognize the woman struggling to stand upright in
front of me.

Choking
back my disgust with her appearance and a strong desire to cry, I find my
voice, “Chelsea, what are you doing here? What happened?” I pull her to the
side of the room and we sit on a small sofa positioned so that it faces away
from the large group of people still continuing to celebrate. I glance up at
Natalie who reads the plea in my eyes to give us a chance to talk privately and
she nods before walking over to join her husband with the large group in the
front of the room.

Weakly
she shakes her head, focusing her eyes on the floor. “I tried,” she whispers. I
grip her hand tightly encouraging her to tell me why she’s here. She lifts her
dark and glossy eyes up, staring into mine before continuing, “I’m still with
Mad.” My gut clenches at her sad confession, but I remain quiet. “He wouldn’t
let me leave.” She glances over her shoulder appearing to search the room. “I
had to agree to stay with him before he would stop…” Emotions rising up in her
throat halt her explanation, just in time too.

“What
are you doing over here
Chels
?” Mad growls standing
at the back of the sofa while glaring down at me. A shiver runs through my body
from the intensity of his vile look. “Don’t be disturbing Decks
ol
’ lady. Come.”

“She’s
not disturbing me,” Using my sweet voice, I make up an excuse before he makes
her leave. “We are discussing her fill in on her tat. Give me a few more
minutes and Chelsea is all yours.” He doesn’t look happy about me speaking for
her and I can see that the words are just barely contained behind his pinched
tight lips.

He
stares hard at Chelsea and says, “Five minutes.” Still completely pissed off he
turns from us, walking away slowly and I let out a heavy breath.

“What
can I do?” I rush my words knowing that I don’t have long. “I’ll get you away
from him if that’s what you want.”

She
shakes her head feebly. “He’ll come after me.” She glances down, runs her hand
over the bend in her elbow and taps on several track marks before looking back
up at me. “He threatened to kill me if I ever leave him.”

That
got my attention. The vulgarity ripping through my mind is only seconds away
from releasing. Not wanting to draw attention to us, I shake my head attempting
to divert them from their direct path to my mouth while biting down hard on my
tongue.

“If
I can make arrangements to get you away from him and to a safe place would you
do it? Would you leave this life behind?” I stare transfixed on her brown eyes
watching for a sign of hope or appreciation to my offer.

“You
can’t save me, Angel,” she whispers averting her eyes toward the direction Mad
left. “But thank you.”

“I
will, Chelsea. You just have to tell me that it’s what you want,” I demand
gripping her hand tightly in mine and pulling her attention back to me.

“I
would leave all of it behind,” she says meekly.

I
smile cautiously at her, formulating a plan to save her. “Do you have a cell
phone?” Keeping her eyes on me, she shakes her head. “Okay, then you’ll come to
the TatHouse Friday. Tell him you’re getting the fill in and it will take four
hours to finish it. If he refuses to leave you there alone I will come up with
an alternative plan.” Her eyes fill with tears and it tugs at my heart. “You
have to trust me and please don’t tell him anything. I promise that we’ll get
you out. And once it’s done…”

“You’ll
never see my face again,” she finishes before I can, knowing exactly what we
are risking once that monster discovers that she has run from him.

“Now,
go find him and act as normal as you can around the son of a bitch,” I instruct
rising from the sofa and leading her back to the throng of people continuing to
party.

Chelsea
spots Mad immediately, sitting angrily across the other side of the room away
from everyone else. He is a social outcast by every definition. He doesn’t make
nice with anyone and he has used up every drug connection that he knows taking
from them without repaying his debt. He actually believes he’s entitled to a
free ride just because he graces them with his presence. I can’t think of any
reason someone would want him around. After the way Decks reacted so crazily
toward him when he attempted to insult me by calling me a bitch, I’m surprised
to see him as an invited guest to his house.

Suddenly
my mind begins adding together all the factors: Mad working with Decks, him
supplying Chelsea with Ryske and the ghost of Dr. A along with his attorney’s
getting him released on bond from jail. Adding all of that to the trips that
Decks has been making recently then I have my answer. Mad knows Dr. A and
people need him for their Ryske connection. But what about the woman all over
Decks back in the Bahamas? Is she just a shipment contact or is there more
between her and Decks?

Finding
myself still staring in Mad’s direction, I spin around toward the other guests.
I notice Natalie and Wise among the loud group and walk over. I make eye
contact briefly with Blues, feeling my heart rate ratchet up and my girlie
parts beg for his attention. I scold myself then force my attention away from
the sex-god. Everyone is enjoying themselves and the light atmosphere on this
side of the room helps settle my stress over leaving Chelsea with that monster.
But no matter what sacrifices on my part it takes, come Friday she will be
safely out of his repulsive clutches forever.

Chapter
Forty-Eight

I
text to Russ letting him know that Mad will be showing up at the TatHouse today
with Chelsea. The more prepared he is for our possible encounters the better.
He knows how much I can’t stand the guy and would try to intercept him from
making contact with me. My co-worker, Dylan is going to do the fill in on
Chelsea’s tattoo since I still have another three days before my cast could
come off. With everything set into motion to extricate her from his evil
control, I feel pretty confident. A couple of members of my unit who are
currently not on assignment will pick her up the moment Mad leaves her alone.
Getting him to go will be the hardest part. I just hope what I did to ensure
that he leaves her here with me won’t result in blowing my cover.

Chilly
air blusters through the front entrance when Mad enters the store followed by a
weaker version of the young woman I spoke with before. Clearly he has doped her
up so she will remain docile. I just hope she’s coherent enough to follow my
instructions.

“Hi
Chelsea,” I say leaning against the counter top located next to the front door.
“Dylan will be doing your color since I’m still wearing this thing.” I nod
toward my arm. “Are you cool with that?” She glances sluggishly with glossy
eyes from me to Mad waiting for his response to my question.

“Who
the hell is Dylan?” Mad snarls looking toward the back of the shop where a
burly, tattoo covered muscular body sits at his station preparing for his next
client. Although I am usually happy that Dylan is intimidating as hell when
some of the weirder clients come into the store, today is not one of those
days. Mad needs to feel comfortable being here, so that when he gets called
away he‘ll be ok with leaving.

I
point with my chin toward the back and Mad’s eyes follow the direction, glancing
at Dylan again. He glares suspiciously when Dylan raises his fist acknowledging
him. “If you want to wait there we should have her ready to go in about four
hours.” His attention swiftly turns back to me with a wild eyed stare.

“Four
hours, that’s fucking ridiculous,” he snaps at full volume. His hands grips
around Chelsea’s upper arm, pulling her away from the counter. “We’re not
hanging around that damn long. Let’s go.”

“Seriously
dude?” I laugh. “Do you have something better to do? Because Dylan cleared his
schedule as a favor for me to finish what I started and it’s shitty that you’re
overreacting to a little thing like waiting around four hours. You sound like a
girl.”

Hating
me for questioning his manhood, he thrusts Chelsea toward me roughly and stalks
over to the row of chairs by the front window slamming down, fuming mad, jaw
twitching and eyes piercing through me. It takes every bit of strength I have
not to laugh at his childish behavior. Instead, I gently take Chelsea by the
arm and lead her back to Dylan’s station. He begins explaining everything to
her first and then when she acknowledges him he begins the work. About two
hours in Mad is completely enraged, continuously grumbling about how slow the
process is going while pacing the front area.

“Cigarette
break
?” I ask Chelsea. She smiles at me while nodding
and we walk passed Mad out the front door. He follows us around the corner of
the building where he watches us sit on the metal box against the brick wall.

“Why
don’t you finish that thing up another day?” he asks Chelsea standing in front
of her arms crossed with a menacing glare defying her to dispute his order. He
is a scrawny guy with skinny arms and long dirty blonde hair. He makes me think
of a teenage boy who prefers wearing skinny jeans.

“Listen,
I get that waiting around for one of these isn’t the most fun in the world, but
I’m not letting her leave here with a half-ass job. We have a reputation here
and you’re not going to screw it up. Chill the hell out.” I cross my legs
turning my attention toward Chelsea. “Have you ever tried menthol in that
brand?” I ask as a distraction method so he will get the idea that he’s not
going to get his way today.

“I
hate that shit,” she says blowing out a puff of smoke. “It burns the back of my
throat and tastes like shit.”

I
laugh, “They all do that. I have a friend who loves the clove ones, but I can
only take that smell for so long before I get a raging headache. Same thing
happens with cigars. Ugh.”

A
loud obnoxious heavy metal ring tone screeches from Mad’s front pant pocket
interrupting our casual conversation. He snatches it out and peers at the
screen before an odd grin slices across his ugly face revealing a dull silver
tooth on the bottom.

“Yeah,”
he says answering the phone before offering me a salacious smile that forces a
shiver of disgust down my spine. Turning away from us, he says forcefully, “I
can’t do it now.” There’s a long pause before he snaps the phone closed without
as much as a goodbye to the person on the other end.

“I’m
finished,” Chelsea says, stomping on her cigarette butt after standing up.

“Cool,”
I reply avoiding eye contact with him and walking around toward the front of
the building.

“We
need to leave
Chels
,” he growls from behind us.

I
spin around and he gives me a fierce glare. “You are kidding right?” I cross my
arms and stand confidently as he rakes his eyes over me.

“Decks
must really enjoy your hot little ass. I wouldn’t tolerate that mouth for one
second unless it was sucking me off,” he smirks showing off yellow teeth, and
my look shifts to disgust without a possibility of hiding it both from his
words and him physically, making him laugh deeply.

“Shut
your mouth,” I yell walking around the corner of the store pulling Chelsea
along with me.

“I
said we need to go,” he demands storming through the door behind us.

“And
I said she isn’t leaving the shop with a half finished tat.
So
whatever
is so important to you will just have to wait.” His look is total infuriation
making his body quiver with unleashed anger. I watch as he mentally debates his
choices before I add, “I’ll make sure Decks kicks your fucking ass if you ever
speak to me that way again. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind losing a customer who
talks to his
ol
’ lady that way.” I glare confidently
hearing a deep growl coming from him moments before he bellows at me.

“Fuck
you bitch. He just told me to get all the shit I want before Minder leaves out
for a new load. That doesn’t sound like someone ready to cut me loose.”

“Are
you willing to risk it?”

His
hands fist tightly in his crossed arms, his eyes narrow on me before snapping
over to glare at Chelsea who has returned to her seat at Dylan’s station again.
Two customers walk into the shop and approach the counter standing beside him just
as he is about to say something. From the look on his face it was going to be
another insult. Instead of offering me another smartass retort, he stalks over
to Dylan’s station where he grabs a hand full of Chelsea hair, forcing her to
turn and look up at him.

“I’ll
be back in thirty minutes.”
He drops his hands to her
face, digging his fingers in her cheeks and causing
her to wince. “If
you fucking walk out of this shop before I return I’ll make sure it’s that last
motherfucking trip you’ll take standing upright.”

He
storms out the front door slamming it off the outside wall after piercing me
with a defiant glare that I accept as a personal challenge. I walk back to
check on Chelsea. She’s wiping tears out of the corner of her eyes when Dylan
steps out of the backroom.

“What
happened, Angel?” he growls angrily. Looking down at the tiny girl whose spirit
normally lights up the world around her, I see it almost completely snuffed out
and replaced with an ingrained hurt. Today I will begin the process that will
help erase the pain that piece of shit has inflicted on her by getting her out.

“We’re
cool
Dyl
and thanks for everything,” I smile at him
and offer Chelsea a hug. She wraps her tiny arms around my neck and squeezes
weakly.

“I
can’t thank you enough, Angel.” she whispers against my hair.

I
pull away, looking down into her dark eyes. “Thank me by staying clean.” She
nods.

The
two customers who were witness to Mad losing his temper walk back to where we
are standing. “Hi Chelsea, I’m Detective
O’Shields
and this is my partner Detective Blake. When you’re ready we are taking you to
a safe house far away and that asshole will never touch you again.”

Chelsea
nods while wiping away another stray tear and whispers, “Thank you.”

“Let’s
get you on the road to a new life,” Detective
O’Shields
says.