Make Me Bad (Page 40)

That’s all.

I guess it’s a start.

Today is Andy’s birthday, the big 3-2. He’s having people over to his house later and I know Madison’s excited to go. She thinks she has the best gift ever for him. Now that he and Arianna are a couple—believe me, it’s all I hear about at work—Madison got them matching bowling league shirts with their names embroidered on the back.

She also ordered some for us, Kevin, and Eli, but she doesn’t think I know that. She’s pretty bad at keeping secrets.

We’re at her apartment, spending the afternoon together like we usually do, and I’ve just basically broken a hip trying to have sex with her on this damn futon. It was worth every second, mind you, but I’m about done with this place. The second I think she’ll actually accept, I’m asking her to move in with me. A part of me knows she wants to give in. That cold shower she’s taking right now can’t be enjoyable. She’s in there hissing under an icy stream.

I’m on my laptop, researching anything I can about her case. I know odds are I won’t find anything. I know the incident might have been a one-off thing, a complete coincidence, but I can’t seem to squelch the idea burning in my head that Madison might have been targeted on purpose. I got her talking about it again after her dad left this morning, though she hates when I bring it up.

“I can’t live in fear my whole life, Ben. Besides, I was probably just being paranoid when I thought someone was following me.”

I don’t think she was being paranoid at all. If anything, she needs to be more concerned.

Another news article on the Clifton Cove Times website leads me to a dead end. There’s nothing. No write-up about the incident. No mention of Madison or a suspect on the loose. It’s probably for the best. There’s no point in worrying everyone, and there’s such little crime in this area of town. I’d understand it if Madison was walking over where Mac and his friends hang out, over near Murphy’s. They probably—

My brain stops short on that thought.

It’s stupid, really. Just a whim.

Shit. I’m already on my feet, stuffing my phone in my back pocket and finding my keys.

“Hey Madison!”

“Yeah?” she calls from the bathroom.

“I just remembered I’ve got to go run an errand. Is it okay if I meet you at Andy’s party?”

The shower cuts off and a second later, her head pops out of the bathroom. “What do you mean, an errand?”

“It’s something for work.”

She frowns in disbelief. “Um…okay, I guess. You’re definitely lying to me right now, though.”

I nod. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

Because if I tell you where I’m going, you’ll ask me to stay, but I have to try.

“I’ll tell you at the party,” I say, stepping over to her and kissing her forehead. Then I think better of it and kiss her lips. She’s warm and wet. It’d be a better use of my time to push her right back into that shower, but then I remember it only gets freezing cold water and that idea pops like a bubble.

“I’ll meet you at Andy’s. I won’t be late, I swear!”

Ten minutes later, I’m outside Andy’s house insisting he get in my car.

He’s hanging out the window, shaking his head. “I’ve got party setup to do, man—streamers to hang, balloons to fill. Arianna wants to give me my birthday present before the party starts and I’m pretty sure it’s a blowjob.”

His eyebrows dance with the possibility.

“That’s cool, man, really. No one wants you to get that birthday blowjob more than me. I just need you to get into the car and help me with this one little thing. I’ll have you back here in a jiffy.”

His eyes are skeptical. “You’ve never once used the word jiffy. You’re not a ‘jiffy’ kind of guy.”

I lean over and push the door open, forcing his hand.

“You really aren’t going to tell me where we’re going?” he asks as we start pull out of his neighborhood.

I smile, big and wide. “It’s a birthday surprise.”

He fully believes me until we cross the highway.

“You aren’t taking me to Chuck E. Cheese’s, right? Because Arianna already took me and—”

“Shockingly, no.”

“Okay, well, you just crossed under the highway.” He points out the window for proof. “Did you take a wrong turn?”

I don’t reply.

“Are you taking me to that seedy strip club in the bad part of town? Because while I appreciate the gesture, bro, I’m not really looking to spend my birthday at Solid Platinum. That place is haunted.”

I turn off the main road and down another side street. My hand is gripping the steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles are turning white. I might be a little nervous. Down another side street, the neon sign for Murphy’s glows in the distance. Motorcycles and trucks are parked out front. A few guys smoke near the door. They’re probably the ones who “witnessed” my fight with Mac and came to his defense. I swear they’re all wearing leather jackets with mean expressions. I can’t be certain, but one of them looks as if he’s sharpening a knife.

Ben jerks forward in his seat.

“Murphy’s?! Seriously?”

He tries to reach over to grab the steering wheel and I fend off his tepid attack.

“Hey! Cool it! I’m about to drive off the road!”

“Good! I’d rather end up in a ditch than in that bar again.”

“I have a reason, and it doesn’t involve fighting anyone!” I say, holding his arms at bay. “I just want to talk to Mac.”

“Talk? There is no talking to Mac! He used to be a normal kid, but now he’s an angry psycho, and sorry to say, I know you’ve been working out a lot, but he’s bigger than you.” He holds his hands out around his waist. “Just rounder, you know, from all the fast food. C’mon, I’d really prefer to not have my best friend get killed on my birthday.”

I pull into the parking lot and turn to him. “I have this idea, and it’s not a good one, I’ll admit that—”

“All right, I’m glad you see reason. Put ’er in reverse and let’s head back to the party. I bet Arianna’s all done inflating the balloons which means she can move on to blowing something else.”

Instead of doing as he asks, I unlock the doors. Andy reaches over and frantically relocks his like monsters are about to break in. Hell, maybe they are. The guys near the door watched us pull in and park. My SUV doesn’t exactly blend in out here. I should have parked down the street or something.

“This is stupid. They’re going to kill you and dump your body. I’m going to have to run our damn firm all by myself.”

“No they won’t. They’re not murderers. Just—”

“Look!” Andy shouts, pointing out my window. “The cops are already here arresting someone else! Probably for murder!”

I jerk my attention to where he’s pointing and sure enough, three police officers are escorting a guy out the front door in handcuffs. The light’s not great out here, so it takes me a second to realize one of the officers is Madison’s brother.

Oh good. We can continue what we started this morning, round two of Hart vs. Rosenberg.

“Look, see? That’ll be you. If you go in there, you’re going to get arrested again. Mark my words.”

I ignore him and watch as Colten steers the guy toward the waiting police cruiser. I’m wondering if I should wait until Colten’s gone before I get out. I don’t really want to get into it with him right now, but then I take another look at the guy they’re arresting and my attention snags on his shoes.

My breath stops short.

I know those shoes.

I’ve seen those shoes.

I yank my car door open and slam it closed behind me before I fully realize what I’m doing.

Andy’s yelling at me to get back in, but my pace only picks up.

“Don’t be stupid! What are you doing?!”

This is the guy.

This is Madison’s attacker. Those faded red sneakers with the black laces—they’re the same pair I described to the police that night.

He’s here now, slightly shorter than I remember and younger, a punk making a scene as the police try to haul him toward the cruiser. He kicks and jerks around, calling them every name under the sun and trying to break out of their hold. They’re having a hell of a time getting him into the back of the vehicle and I think, Good, let him cause trouble. Hell, they should just let him go. I have a bone to pick with him.

Colten sees me walking over and nods his head to the officer beside him, making sure he has control of the situation. Then he breaks off and makes his way toward me, hand outstretched as if to stop me from going any farther.

I realize then I must have murder in my eyes.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks brusquely.

“That’s him,” I say, trying to swerve around him. What’s my plan? I don’t know. Let me get my hands around that guy’s neck and we’ll see.

Colten sidesteps in front of me and presses his hand to my chest. “Yes, it’s him. Don’t be stupid.”