Page 15 of Grit (Dirty #6)


  She jerks her head in confirmation, and I pull the door open. The proceedings have already begun, and Bates, dressed in his county jailhouse scrubs, stands up front with his attorney. He turns at the sound of our entrance, his cold gaze sliding over us as we slip into seats in the back of the room.

  The judge is speaking, reprimanding Bates about the appalling nature of his crimes. Bates shifts back, but it’s obvious he’s paying the judge little mind. Rocky’s hand finds mine, fingers flexing and twitching as the charges are ticked off.

  For the felonious assault charge—eleven years.

  The attempted murder charge—eighteen years.

  The aggravated assault charge—twenty years.

  The second attempted murder charge—life, no possibility of parole.

  The rape charge—life, no possibility of parole.

  The first-degree murder charge—life, no possibility of parole.

  He’ll never be free.

  There are murmured approvals throughout the room. With each sentence, Rocky’s hand squeezes mine. I glance over at her, but instead of smiling, she’s crying. I wrap my arm around her waist, tugging her into my side.

  Four years.

  It took over four goddamn years to get to this point. It isn’t what I wanted—it still isn’t—but there’s satisfaction in watching his punishment be dealt.

  The victims and their families are given the chance to address Bates. Rocky and I chose not to do this. Anthony, despite having helped Bates attack Livie and me, is also one of Bates’ victims, but he’s in prison, and I can’t imagine Bethany has any reason to speak on her husband’s behalf. But then I see someone stand.

  My body goes numb as I watch Olivia’s father walk to the podium. I haven’t seen her parents since they checked on me while I was still in the hospital recovering from one of the many surgeries I underwent after Bates’ first attack. My gaze shifts, finding Liv’s mom, her eyes—so much like Livie’s—shine with tears. I swing my attention back to her dad. He looks older than his years. Losing a daughter will do that.

  Paper crinkles as he removes a letter from an envelope, unfolding it. He blows out a breath that crackles into the microphone. These small gestures, they speak volumes. I can feel his grief from here.

  Bates doesn’t give him the respect of looking at him as he begins to speak.

  “Olivia Haydon was my only child. She was our miracle. We were told we wouldn’t be able to conceive, but less than a year later, she blessed our family. That girl—she was always full of surprises. She was beautiful, smart, kind…” His voice is overtaken with emotion and the next string of words is said through tears.

  “She was so kind, generous, and funny, and I miss her every single day. I miss her smile. The sound of her laughter. I miss her stories, and simply hearing her voice.”

  He turns toward Bates, facing him, the anguish in his features palpable.

  “When you so callously took my daughter’s life, you stole an entire future from our family.”

  I feel my chest stutter, searching for air. Part of me wants to get up and leave right now—I don’t want to hear anymore. I can’t stand to witness the pain in his voice or the loss he’s suffered, because I already know. I live with it.

  “I will never hear her call me dad again. I’ll never again see the smile I miss so much. I’ll never get to watch my brilliant and gifted daughter achieve her dreams and graduate from college. I’ll never kiss her cheek or get to walk her down the aisle. I’ll never get the chance to be a grandfather.”

  My vision blurs as moisture fills my eyes. I make a noise—a guttural and feral groan—finally sucking in a breath. Rocky’s shoulders shake as she cries and I tighten my grip around her.

  “She was destined for great things, and you ripped it all away in one night. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that you can murder someone so good. I can’t forgive you for that. The only consolation is knowing you will spend the rest of your natural born life in a cage like the animal you are.”

  Mr. Haydon folds the paper, tucking it into his pocket. He stares at Bates for several seconds before he shuffles back to his seat next to his wife.

  Bates is given the opportunity to address the victims and their families, but he declines. He has no desire to apologize, and I prefer it that way. With that, he is placed in handcuffs and led to the side door. I fix my gaze on him, following him with my eyes, waiting for him to turn my way, but he keeps his head cast down until he’s out of sight.

  Neither Rocky nor I move as the courtroom begins to clear out. I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. For everyone else, this is over, but for me, this is just step two in my plan.

  Thirty-Seven

  Rocky

  Detective Byers is waiting for us in the hallway when we leave the courtroom. I’ve talked to him a few times—once the night Bates came after me at Link’s house, and the couple occasions he’s come into the gym. He’s nice, and Link seems to like him a lot, but right now—being the lead investigator on Woods’ homicide—he’s the enemy. He has the potential to put it all together and take the father of my child away.

  “You all right?” Byers asks, his eyes flicking back and forth between Link and me.

  “I don’t know,” Link says. “I’m not sure yet.”

  Byers nods. “A little bit of everything, I suppose.” He glances at me. “How about you, missy? You doing all right?” He pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, offering it to me. I take it gratefully, surprised by the gesture. I didn’t know guys still carried these things.

  “Thank you. Yes, I’m okay. Relieved it’s over.”

  He nods again, gaze moving back to Link. “Since I have you here, I should probably let you know we haven’t made much progress on the Woods case. Bates hasn’t been cooperative lately. I’m hoping once he’s transferred over to the state prison he’ll feel a bit more talkative.”

  I shift uncomfortably. I pray that’s not true. If Bates gets chatty, Link’s at greater risk.

  “You know, I’m retiring. Woods is my last case. Once this is solved, I’m a free man.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Link replies. “What are you going to do with yourself?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll take up boxing.”

  Both guys laugh, but I’m still stuck on Bates running his vile mouth about my boyfriend. I chew my fingernail, thoughts spinning. I find it ironic Woods is Byers last case, since it’s the final thing standing in our way of happiness.

  “I’ll let you two get out of here. I know it’s been a difficult day for you.”

  Link shakes Byers hand and I give him a little wave. Just as we turn to walk away, we come face to face with Olivia’s parents—I recognize her father immediately.

  Link’s face pales. “Mr. and Mrs. Haydon…”

  “Hi Link,” the woman says with a warm smile. Her adoration for him is evident by the way she looks at him. “It’s been so long. You look great.”

  “Thank you,” he rasps. It’s clear to me he’s at a loss for words and it makes my heart ache for him.

  “Yes, you’ve gotten big,” Mr. Haydon states. He slaps Link’s shoulder, giving it a shake. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” He looks at me then. “The only reason we noticed you at all was because of this one here.”

  Mrs. Haydon reaches out as if she’s going to touch me, but thinks better of it, dropping her hand back to her side. “It’s the hair,” she explains. It takes me a moment to understand, but as I catch Link nodding in agreement, it clicks. He told me once my hair resembles Olivia’s in every way but the way it smells. For a long time, I was worried that was his only attraction to me. Sometimes, like now, that same question arises.

  “This is Rocky,” Link utters. “My girlfriend.” The way he says girlfriend, it’s like he expects them to disapprove, but Mrs. Haydon beams.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rocky.” She glances back to Link and winks. “She’s gorgeous.”

  Mr. Haydon’s eyes shine with unshed tears.
“She’d be happy for you,” he croaks. “All she ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

  Link’s lips press together, forming a tight white line for a second before it shifts into a smile. “I am,” he says. “I am.”

  ~*~

  Joe and Augie are sparring for fun in the ring between clients. I glance around, looking for Link.

  “He’s not here,” Augie calls, words barley understandable through his mouth guard.

  “Where’d he go?” He’s been better about telling me when he leaves.

  He shrugs, taped fists raised. “Something about the house.”

  The house. I wonder if his offer was accepted. If he didn’t say anything, he probably wants to surprise me. I’m not a big fan of surprises, but that’s one I can handle.

  “I’m going to pick up some lunch. You guys want anything?”

  “A burger,” Augie calls.

  Joe spits his guard into his hand. “Wait, Rock, you want me to take you?”

  I shake my head. “The doctor said I’m good—I don’t need a babysitter twenty-four seven. I’m just going right down the street.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Then I’ll take a burger, too. No onion. I have a date with Summer tonight.” He cocks his brows, grinning stupidly, and I roll my eyes. He’s got it bad.

  I grab my coat and slip some cash into my pocket before heading down to Jay-Jay’s café. They have the best buffalo chicken salad and French fries. It’s an odd combination, but I blame it on the baby.

  “Hi, how many today?” the hostess greets me.

  “I just want to place an order for carryout.”

  She grabs her pad, and I relay our orders to her. “Anything while you wait?”

  I’m about to say no, but then I remember that chocolate mint pie I tasted on Link that one night. He said he got it from here. I slip onto one of the stools at the counter. “Yeah, can I get a slice of grasshopper pie?”

  Her head tilts to the side. “We don’t have that.”

  I deflate. Damn. I’ve been craving it for weeks.

  “The only place I can even think of that sells grasshopper pie is that diner, Gillian’s, over in Dylan County.”

  My heart beats in double-time. Gillian’s? Garrett Marshall works at Gillian’s—that’s what his profile said when Link and I looked him up before.

  “You don’t sell it here at all? Ever?”

  “Not for as long as I’ve worked here—going on three years. We have cherry, apple, key lime, and cheesecake. You want one of those?”

  “No,” I utter. “Thank you.”

  He went to see Garrett.

  Oh, my God.

  There’s only one reason he’d do that and lie to me about it.

  Thirty-Eight

  Link

  I get back to the gym, excited to tell Rocky the good news about the house. We got it. Joel’s bringing over paperwork tonight to start the process. I head straight into the office.

  Rocky’s seated behind the desk, the remnants of a salad in front of her. I grin. “Oh, good, you got lunch, and it’s healthy.” I say healthy like it’s a dirty word, but she ignores it.

  “I got you something, too,” she murmurs, sliding a plain white bag to the edge. She hasn’t returned the smile. In fact, she’s barely looked at me.

  “Thanks,” I say carefully. I pull up the chair in the corner, musing over her mood. It’s probably hormone-related, but there’s no way in hell I’m asking. I open the bag and remove the small Styrofoam container. Good thing I’m not hungry because she didn’t get me much.

  Rocky holds out a plastic fork, and I take it as I pop the lid. The sweet minty scent hits me. I’m confused for a beat, and then I spend several seconds sorting it out in my head. She knows I lied about where I got the pie, which means she knows why I lied. And then it occurs to me that she went there. She went out to Gillian’s to see Garrett.

  “It’s good,” she states. “I had two pieces.”

  “You went there.” It’s not a question—it’s obvious she did—but I need to hear her say it.

  “I did, and I was interested to find that Garrett Marshall recently quit unexpectedly. Didn’t even come back to collect his last paycheck.” Rocky pushes her chair back, getting to her feet. Her hands come down on the desk and she leans toward me. “What did you do, Link?”

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “Then what is it?” she chokes. “Are we waiting for another body to turn up?”

  I drag my fingers through my hair. That’s warranted.

  “No. I didn’t kill him.”

  “Then what did you do, because I know you went there, and I know nobody seems to know what happened to him. Oh, god. Do you have him locked up somewhere?”

  “No. Rocky, no. I didn’t—” I release a harsh breath. “Would you sit and calm down? I’ll tell you, but you have to calm down—you know it’s not good for the baby.”

  Her eyes widen in a mixture of shock and ire. “Don’t fucking tell me to calm down. What’s good for the baby is having a father that doesn’t try to play judge, jury, and executioner. I thought we were past this.”

  “We are. Sit. Down,” I command. Her gaze narrows, but she sinks into the chair, arms folded over her chest.

  “The night I found out about your visit with Bates—the night I heard his message—when I left, I went crazy. I tore the house up, trying to rid myself of all the rage that’s been sitting inside of me for years, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was how I let Bates live against my better judgment and he was still tormenting us. I knew months ago I should kill Garrett for you—but you talked me out of that too, and I just kept picturing what he did to you… Imagining him coming back to hurt you like Bates has.”

  Rocky sucks in a breath, but doesn’t say anything.

  “I went to his house—”

  “How did you know where he lived? I read everything available about him online. His address wasn’t on there.”

  “I’ve watched him,” I admit. “Off and on for months. I went into Gillian’s once—the night I had the grasshopper pie—and I threatened him. I told him to take down his dating profile and if I ever found out he hurt another woman, I’d castrate him.” My eyes meet hers. “He knew what I was talking about. He didn’t even try to deny it.”

  I don’t know if that gives her any peace, but her lashes flutter and moisture builds in her eyes.

  “So that night, after Bates’ message, I went to Garrett’s house. His apartment wasn’t secure. It was almost too easy to slip in through the unlocked kitchen window. I followed the sounds of his snoring into the bedroom, and I watched him. It pissed me off that he had no trouble sleeping—because he should. People like that should be wracked with remorse. I had my knife, and part of me wanted to kill him—but I didn’t.

  “I woke him. I let him see the knife and understand how easily I could have hurt him. I needed him to have trouble sleeping. I needed him to worry, wondering if or when I was coming back.

  “He begged for his life, and I told him I’d let him live as long as he left the state and didn’t return.”

  “How do you know he actually left? How do you know he won’t be back? How do you know he won’t come after me now?” She fires the questions off, one after another. She trembles and I get up, moving beside her.

  “He’s a coward, Rocky. He won’t come after you. He pissed his pants, right there in his bed. After I left, I sat outside for a while, and watched him pack. He left that same night.”

  “Why did you lie? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I want to remind her she didn’t tell me about seeing Bates, but we’re definitely even on that front, so I just give her the truth. “I knew you wouldn’t approve, and then you went to the emergency room because I had stressed you out. I didn’t want to tell you and give you another reason to be worried.”

  She drops her forehead to my stomach. “He’s alive.”

  ??
?Yes.”

  “As scared as I was that you killed him, I’m also disappointed right now. How sick does that make me?”

  “I think that makes you normal.”

  She snorts out a laugh. “Is that everything? Is there anything else I don’t know?”

  I hesitate and she lifts her head, staring up at me. There’s no judgment in her gaze. I brush my fingers over her cheek, and then I tell her about my visit with Bates, ending with my plan to make sure he never hurts anyone again.

  Thirty-Nine

  Rocky

  Link’s plan is a good one. I understand why he needs to do it, and I fully support it, knowing this is the last thing standing in our way.

  Step one: Link took photos of Anthony’s ex-wife and two children. He did this before I even knew the plan existed. They were poor quality, but clearly showed Anthony’s house and car. Bethany and Emma were easy to make out as well, but I think the most significant part is the baby carrier his wife is carrying. He missed the birth of his daughter. These photos might be as close as he’ll ever come to seeing her.

  Step two: Link prints the pictures off and mails them to Anthony at the prison, along with a note, asking Anthony to add him to his visitor’s list. The note is simple and to the point. A request for a meeting. The photos are to ensure he’ll comply.

  Step three: We wait for Bates to be transferred to the same prison as Anthony. We didn’t have to wait as long as I expected for that to happen. He was transferred the day after his sentencing.

  Step four: Have a sit-down with Anthony, in which Link threatens to cause harm to Anthony’s family.

  Step five: Coerce Anthony, who is already serving two life sentences, to kill Bates.

  I only made one adjustment to the plan. I altered step four, with the addendum that he could do it his way if my way didn’t work. I didn’t feel right about threatening Bethany and the girls. Though Link would never harm them, it still felt wrong.

  Revised step four: Have a sit-down with Anthony in which Link agrees to watch out for Anthony’s family and help them in any way he can if Anthony kills Bates.