Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Hudson

I sound like a fucking loser. What's next, coming in my pants?

I can't believe I'm taking Kenzo's advice. It's so much easier when I can force people to do what I want, so it pisses me off that I can't force her to love me. Still, the look on her face when I said I was taking her on a picnic might have been worth the fact that I paid for the food with my man card.

When we arrive at the park, I scan the parking lot. There are a few cars, mostly minivans with Baby on Board stickers. In the far corner, a man paces in front of a Lexus on his cell phone, clearly agitated with whoever he's talking to. I take in his attire—skinny dark jeans, a pink shirt, and aviators—before dismissing him.

I get out of the car, grab the basket and blanket from the back, and wait for Starling to join me before I lead her down one of the less-populated paths. We come out near the river's edge, which looks like the perfect spot. I put the basket down and spread out the blanket before I yank Starling to me and kiss her hard.

She gasps in surprise, but she doesn't push me away. Instead, she grips my shirt in her hands and kisses me back.

Pulling my mouth from hers, I shake my head. "I need to make sure you eat before I have to get you back."

She nods and sits down, still in a bit of a daze, as I unpack the food and lay it out on the blanket between us.

"You made all this?" she asks after a few moments, and I look at her.

"Is made the same as bought?"

"No." She laughs.

"If I bought it, would you be less impressed?"

She shakes her head, her lips twitching. "No. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me."

"Really?"

"No," she deadpans, making me growl as I pin her to the blanket and start tickling her.

She squeals and squirms, making my dick hard as a fucking rock. I kiss her again, softly this time. For the first time since I put all this in motion, I feel like she's a willing participant.

I slide my hand under her shirt and press it against her bare stomach, making her shiver. Sliding it higher, I cup her breast, my thumb gliding over her nipple.

Okay, so making out in parks might be the kind of high school experience I'm happy to relive. I pop open the button on her jeans and slip my hand inside, my fingers easing inside her panties.

"Yes, finger fuck her hard, man."

I look up and see the pink shirt fucker from the parking lot staring at Starling like she's completely naked.

"Fuck off."

"No need to be like that, buddy. There's enough to go around. Bitches these days get around so much they need at least two dicks in them to feel anything."

"Or you just have a tiny fucking dick," Starling snaps as I roll off her.

She shoves her top back down, pissed off. But not half as pissed as me.

"Smart mouth, bitch. Bet you won't say shit if my cock was in your throat."

I stand up and take a step toward him, and the guy finally wises up. Either that, or he gets a look at the murderous expression on my face, because he backs up, hands in the air.

"Didn't know she was yours, dude. Figured she was fair game. Bitches come here all the time to get dogged."

"At lunchtime on a school day?" Starling snorts.

I take another step toward him, but he turns and runs.

Starling reaches up and grabs my hand, surprising me. "Just let him go. I'm hungry."

I watch the guy turn and head back toward the parking lot and sigh. "Fine. You win."

I sit down and grab the bottle of sparkling wine.

"I can't drink, not if I'm going back to school. They'll lose their minds."

"It's non-alcoholic, don't worry. Like sparkling grape juice. Shit, I left the corkscrew in the car. Start eating, and I'll be right back."

I kiss her and leave before she tells me not to bother. I feel the corkscrew in my pocket as I turn toward the pink-shirt guy's car.

He's on his cell phone, pacing in front of his car again, talking loudly. "They were practically fucking," he exclaims. I ease his back door open, slip inside, and pull the door closed before lying down on the back seat. I spot a rope on the floor of the car and grab it, testing its strength. Not bad.

Eventually, the driver-side door opens, and pink shirt climbs in. He snaps his seatbelt into place as I sit up, wrap the rope around his neck from behind, and pull hard. The guy grabs for the rope, clawing at the fibers, but he can't get any leverage.

"Nobody talks to my wife like that," I tell him, pulling harder. I keep pulling, choking him until he stops breathing and his body starts twitching.

I make sure he's dead before I climb out, taking the rope with me. I dump it in the trunk of my car and head back to Starling, who's eating a chocolate-dipped strawberry when I return.

I hold up the corkscrew. "Got it."

Sitting down, I pour us each a glass and hold one out for her. "How about a toast?"

"A toast to what?" she asks, taking the sparkling wine.

"Not what, who. Mr. and Mrs. Peters."

She hesitates, unsure, but clinks her plastic glass against mine before taking a sip.

"So, how's the food?"

"Good. The strawberries are my favorite." She takes another one and bites it. "Can I ask you something?"

"You can ask me anything. I can't guarantee you'll always like the answer," I tell her, lifting the glass to my lips.

"Do you think you'll ever be able to work things out with Abbot?"

I tense but don't react in anger. "I'm not sure the common ground is stable enough for both of us. Not when I hate that he had you first, and he'll hate that I'll have you last.

"We broke up, you know? Before you lost your mind and dragged me to Vegas, we ended it."

"You fucked him."

"We were saying goodbye."

I snarl, squeezing my hands into fists.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong, Hudson. I wasn't yours then, and you know it."

"You were mine the second you sat in my lap at the wake. I should have been thinking about burying my ex, but all I cared about was burying myself inside you."

"Well, thanks for setting me straight," she hisses, making me grin.

"You're welcome, Birdie."

She sighs and looks away. "I didn't want this. I don't want to be married or tied to someone who I'm pretty sure should be heavily medicated for the safety of others, but I won't break my vows. You might have forced me into this, but I still said them. I won't sleep with another man while I'm married to you, and that includes Abbot."

"You should know that if you did sleep with someone else, I'd kill them and fuck you over their remains."

That pretty much ended the picnic, though she wasn't screaming and shouting at me, so I'll take it as a win.

Still, she was quiet when I dropped her off at school, making me wish I'd kept my mouth shut. I know she knows exactly what kind of man hides under the surface. She's seen glimpses of him, though I try to keep that side of me reined in. It's harder than I thought. I'm not a good guy hiding a mean streak. I'm a fucking degenerate trying to find something good in myself for her to hold on to. I figure if she falls for me, she'll overlook a lot. Like the fact that I kill people for a living.

Tapping my fingers on my leg, I head to the restaurant Atlas is working from today. As I drive past the park, I spot a couple of cop cars and an ambulance, which cheer me up.

Once I get to the restaurant, I park the car and climb out. I bypass the dining room and head up to his office, knocking once.

"Come in."

I push the door open and sigh when I see Kenzo. "Seriously, don't you have an empire to run?"

He flips me off. "I'm training some minions. I wanna see how they do without me."

"Which means you'll be watching them on the cameras?"

He waves his phone in confirmation. "Plus, my woman's here. Where else would I be?"

I look at Atlas for more information. "Ivy and Trix are having a girl's lunch. We're apparently not invited."

"I wondered why you were working from here instead of the club. They know you're here?"

Atlas smirks, and I shake my head in amusement.

"And you think I'm bad."

"Oh, don't pretend that you wouldn't be sitting in class right beside Starling if you weren't closer to fifty than fifteen," Kenzo huffs, his eyes glued to his phone screen. "Where've you been anyway?"

"I took Starling on a date."

"Where to, Chuck E. Cheese?"

"You know, I thought I saw Trix talking to that bouncer from the club. She always tells him she's not interested, but that doesn't stop him from flirting. What's his name, Tom, Thomas, something like that? You know the one?"

"What the fuck?" He storms out, so I take his seat.

"Did you really just throw Trix under the bus?"

"She can handle him. Besides, we both know it's bullshit. You're probably watching both women right now." He turns the computer screen to show that I'm right. "It's just Kenzo. He knew I was winding him up, but he just had to make sure." I laugh.

"You two are worse than toddlers. At least toddlers aren't armed."

"You make it sound like I go around killing people willy-nilly."

"Willy-nilly? Are you on drugs? Also, you literally go around killing people. It's what you do for a living and for fun."

"Speaking of fun. Did you hear about the tragic death at the park today?"

He rubs his face. "Who did you kill and why?"

"Some fucker in a pink shirt."

"You can't kill a guy for wearing pink."

"I know that. I'm not a complete psycho."

"You stabbed someone for wearing a Dallas Cowboys jersey."

"Time and place. He should have known better."

"He was at a football game."

"Sitting in the Chief's section. I was doing him a favor. They were ready to mob him. Besides, that was three years ago, and I've mellowed since then."

"Right. Mellowed." He shakes his head. "And the guy in the pink shirt?"

"He wanted to fuck Starling. Told me we could share, then told her she'd need both of us to feel anything because bitches these days get around or some shit. I saw red after that."

Atlas nods. "Sounds justified to me. Prick."

"Exactly."

Kenzo reappears and gives me a death stare before sitting in the chair in front of the desk.

"You find anything out about the twins? Any witnesses? Or cameras?" I ask him.

"Nothing. Nobody saw anything suspicious, and none of the cameras in the area picked up the twins."

"What time were they discovered?"

"Midnight," Kenzo replies.

"So, we're either looking for someone capable of taking out two six-six highly trained individuals without being seen or heard, or they were dumped there after they were killed."

"You think they were killed somewhere else?" Atlas leans forward.

"Possibly. Depends on the blood."

"Let me call my source. Hold on."

Kenzo gets up and walks over to the door to make his call.

"So if they were dumped, why there?" Atlas asks.

"Not sure. They'd have to know that putting them in a dumpster would delay them being found."

"The place must be significant somehow."

"What else is around there besides the coffee shop and recruitment center?"

Atlas starts typing, looking it up on his laptop. "A hairdresser, thrift store, and community center."

I frown. "A community center. Seems like an odd spot to put one."

Atlas starts typing again, then stops and starts scrolling.

"It was an old church that was split into two when it was renovated. Half of it is the recruitment center. The other half is the community center. They offer a bunch of different programs, activities, and services, like fitness classes, counseling."

"Wait, counseling?" I tap my fingers on my leg while I think. "What if the recruitment center is irrelevant and they used the community center instead?"

Atlas nods. "It's possible."

"And if that's the case, we have a bunch more people we can question."

"You think they'll remember seeing the twins?"

"Maybe. But I'm hoping they might have also seen the killer. They just don't know it."

The counselor stares at the photo and nods.

"Yeah, I recognize them. That's Kyle and Conner. Why?"

"They were found dead a few days ago."

"You're sure it was them?" I nod, and he sighs. "What a shame. Nice guys. Intense though. But you see that a lot with soldiers who've seen active duty."

I look at the small guy in front of me who runs some of the counseling programs here at the center. He's probably around five-five at the most and built like a prepubescent teen going through that awkward phase most of us grow out of.

"How well did you know them?" Kenzo asks.

He purses his lips in thought. "I saw them once every two weeks for about two years, but I haven't seen either of them in eight months."

The guy looks at me, then at Atlas. "I'm sorry, who did you say you were again?"

"I'm Atlas. This is my associate, Pete. Pete served with them."

"Oh man, I'm sorry for your loss. Like I said, good guys, but a little lost. They got out around three years ago, which you probably know. Not only did they have to readjust to civilian life, but they also had to deal with the fact that both their parents and their sister had died in a freak accident while they were overseas. Luckily, they had a lawyer to take care of things on this end until they completed their term."

"When we last spoke to the cops, they hadn't officially identified them yet. They were waiting for family. But if there's none…"

"I'm not sure. Oh, wait, Kyle had an ex-wife. She could have made the identification. From what I understood, they remained friends after the divorce."

"I was unaware they were still in contact," I lie smoothly. I didn't even know he'd been married.

"Do the numbers fourteen and four mean anything to you?"

He shakes his head, confused. "Should they?"

"No, don't worry about it. Alright, thanks. We'd better be going. I appreciate you talking to us." I hold out my hand for him to shake, which he does, followed by Atlas's.

Atlas pulls out a business card and hands it to him. "If you think of anything else, give me a call."

"Shouldn't I call the police first?"

"Unfortunately, with the lack of evidence, cases like these turn cold quickly and end up in a file somewhere behind a dozen other active cases. We want more for them than that. They fought for our country. The least we can do is fight for them."

"On that, we can all agree."

"One last thing, do you remember seeing them speak to anyone or argue with anyone the last time they were here?"

He frowns. "They were never here."

Atlas looks at me, just as lost as I am.

"What do you mean they were never here? You said you knew them. Said you worked with them until eight months ago?"

I see a lightbulb go off above his head. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I did counsel them both, but it wasn't here. I moved here eight months ago to be closer to my sick mother."

"Where do you know them from then?"

"The community center in Vanway."

I look at Atlas. That's only a few miles from home. So why the fuck did they end up here?

We thank him for his time and leave the center, making our way over to the recruitment center on the other side of the building.

"Can I help you?" a soldier asks, standing behind a white desk in full uniform.

"We're looking into the deaths of some friends of mine."

"Kyle and Conner?"

"You knew them?"

"Not really. I met them when they came here once with their lawyer to dispute something. How do you know them?"

"We were stationed together in Afghanistan just after 9/11."

He shakes his head. "My team was one of the last to leave. I can't even imagine what it was like out there back then."

"Worse than you think. So it pisses me off that they made it home when so many of our brothers didn't, only for them to get killed here."

The soldier nods, gritting his teeth.

"The guy next door said the twins went for counseling."

"A few guys here do." He shrugs.

"After they get back, they're expected to visit high schools and colleges, giving people the patriotic speech about enlisting."

I blink, hearing the bitterness in his voice. "And that pisses you off."

"Only because they're selling an image one moment and struggling to get help now that they're home the next. We're not only soldiers when we're fighting. We're soldiers when we carry our brothers' caskets on our shoulders. When we cheer on their kids playing Little League because we made a promise to a dying man that we would. We're still soldiers when a car backfires, and we're right back in the sandbox, ducking gunfire or screaming at night for the decisions we were forced to make?—"

"Like shooting a little girl when you know it was both the right and the wrong thing to do," I finish quietly.

"See, you get it. But there are a lot of people who think that once we take our uniform off, we take off the memories. And that's not how it works at all."

"Hence the counseling next door."

"Yeah, honestly, most of us here need it. It helps. We compare stories and battle our demons together. We're lucky. Not everyone has that. And considering none of the counselors are military, they're all pretty fucking good with us. You should check it out."

"I found my own kind of therapy," I say, smirking when I notice Atlas's lips twitch.

The door opens, and a high school kid walks in, looking nervous.

"We'll be out of your hair in a second. But I have to ask, do you remember the name of their lawyer or who they were here to see?"

"No, sorry. I was on a call at the time. I heard something about good PR due to them both getting Purple Hearts, but that's all I caught. Sorry I can't be more help, but I've gotta see to this." He nods to the kid looking at the black-and-white photos covering the walls.

"Thanks for talking to us."

I head out with Atlas beside me.

"Look at you being all polite," he jokes as we climb into the car.

Kenzo is already in the driver's seat.

"You find anything useful?" I ask him.

"No, you?"

"Not as much as I'd hoped."

The numbers thing is bugging me though. It's clearly not a nod to how many victims there are. So what's the damn significance?

Atlas fills Kenzo in as he drives us back to the airfield.

"I'm surprised that they lived so close for years, and I never ran into them," I say when he's done.

Kenzo laughs. "You're not exactly social, Pete."

I tip my head in acknowledgment. "What do you make of this lawyer? Think we should look into them?"

"It won't hurt, but they won't share anything with us if it's protected under client confidentiality clauses," Atlas reminds me.

"I'll dig anyway, see what I can find. But I'll do it from home. I don't like being too far from Trix while she's pregnant."

"She's still good, though, right? How was the doctor's appointment?"

"She's fine. They both are. But the baby is turning out to be just as stubborn as it's mother."

I chuckle. "I'm guessing you couldn't find out the sex?"

"I swear to fuck the kid was hiding it on purpose. Every time the technician moved the wand to see, the baby would roll away."

"Healthy is all that matters, though. Who cares if it's a boy or a girl?"

"Well, if it's a girl, I need to know. I need to get more guns and guards."

"And I thought you were bad, Atlas."

"You don't have girls, so you don't understand. But think about it: Starling's eighteen, so it stands to reason that one day she might want kids. Now imagine a daughter with her eyes and hair and picture men like us pursuing them," he tells me grimly.

"Fuck that. I'm not having daughters."

"We'll see," he says knowingly.

I picture a little girl running around, one who looks just like Starling, and feel a strange sort of panic.

"My daughter will never date a man like me, even if I have to send her to a convent."

Kenzo grins at me in the rearview mirror. "I dare you to tell Starling that."