Tortured Sinner by Tessa James

Claire - 35

It's been days since we found Jared and Steve shot in that alley, and Johnny is still acting strange. He's on edge. And I can't say I blame him. Two of his coworkers—do you call fellow gophers that?—were killed in a staged murder scene in a very close proximity to where we live, where we hang out, and where Johnny was beaten only a couple weeks prior.

It's traumatic, to say the least. I wish I knew how to help him process what he's going through.

He’s been attending his classes, but I have a hunch that’s only so he can keep an eye on me and make sure I’m safe. He’s barely left my side except for when it’s absolutely necessary. He even stays at the diner during my shifts and studies in the corner booth.

Bram had tried to give me some time off, but I insisted I’d rather get back to some kind of normalcy.

If I’m being completely honest, there was the slightest relief at seeing the two people who did what they did to Johnny bleeding out in that nasty alley. I can’t speak for Steve, but Jared was no gift to humanity. After the run-in I had with him on both occasions, watching him die didn’t faze me the way everyone acts like it should. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but it’s hard to feel sorry for someone who thought my body was for his personal enjoyment.

I round the corner to the hallway and pop my head into Johnny’s bedroom. “You want some coffee?”

He quickly grabs the lid to the box he’s looking through and shoves it on top. “I—uh…yeah. That sounds good.”

I grip the doorframe and narrow my gaze. “J. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” He picks the plain cardboard container off his mattress and pushes it under the bed with his foot.

I want to press, to ask him what he was doing, but he’s been in a funk lately, and I don’t want to make it any worse by prying.

I can’t help but notice the distance forming between us that I would do anything to get rid of.

Johnny walks over, kisses my cheek, and pulls me toward the kitchen.

My phone buzzes, and I pull it out of my pocket.

Rosey: Hey! I’m back, bitch!

My East-Coast bestie had been on an impromptu writing retreat, and I only managed to find that out when I called her mom when I hadn’t heard from her. I tried getting ahold of her after the whole Griffin debacle, but she had already left with her writing class. I’m glad she went, I really am. Had I still been back home, I would have been on the same trip with her, living a semi-normal-ish life.

“Call her,” Johnny says. “I’ll go grab us lunch.”

“You sure?” I study his expression fanatically, looking for any sign of disapproval.

“Yeah. I could use the fresh air.”

Does he mean from me?

I glance at the time on my phone and back up at him. "Please be careful."

Johnny strolls over, and it’s like everything else fades away and it’s just us. He glides his thumb along my cheek. “Always.” He presses his soft lips against mine briefly and snatches his wallet and keys from the counter.

The door closes and I’m left alone in his place. I shift my attention toward his room, and the strong urge to look under his bed creeps over me. But if he wanted me to know what was in there, he would have told me, and I refuse to invade his privacy just because of sheer curiosity.

I shake away the thought and focus on what I had planned on doing.

I bring up the text screen.

Me: About damn time! Call me!

But instead of a regular call, she Face Times me.

I answer it anyway.

Her beaming and beautiful face greets me on the other side. Rosey’s blonde hair bobs and her eyeliner is done in a perfect cat’s eye. “I missed you,” she feigns sadness.

"Oh whatever, you didn't even tell me you were going! I heard it from your freaking mom." I laugh and sit on the stool in Johnny's kitchen.

“Speaking of moms, did yours redecorate?” She brings her phone closer to her face to look into my background. “There’s a total bachelor pad vibe going on.”

I roll my eyes. “No. I’m—uh…do you remember that guy I was telling you about? From my complex?”

“Super dreamy yet illusive dude?” She narrows her gaze and then covers her mouth when it finally clicks. “You’re sleeping with hottie McBadBoy?”

“You’re the worst. You know that, right?” I sigh and bite at the inside of my lip. “A lot has changed since you’ve been gone.”

“I’ll say,” she huffs. “Enough about boring writer camp, what the hell is going on with you?” She flops down onto her bed.

And so, I tell her everything. How we sort of avoided each other for a little while but ended up being stuck together by our teacher and her tutoring thing. About Griffin and how he potentially tried to kill me, and how Johnny saved me but the cops don’t know the truth. How Johnny isn’t really bad at all, just super misunderstood in his quest to save everyone except himself. I left out the details of the very obvious criminal underground but mentioned he had some issues with his boss, and how his job can be a little dangerous at times. I tried to make sense of how despite everything, there’s this insane connection between us, but it’s not exactly the easiest thing to explain to someone who hasn’t experienced it themselves.

“Which leads us here, right now, to me waiting in his kitchen while he goes to grab us food.” A strange weight seems to lift from my shoulders at being able to talk to her about mostly all of this.

"You both drink the same weird-ass coffee? I mean, how adorable is that." She lets out a chuckle but then her tone changes into something darker. "I'm really sorry, Claire, about not being there when the Griffin thing happened. I can't imagine what that was like."

“It’s okay; I’m fine.”

She shakes her head. “No. You can pretend with everyone else, but you don’t have to fake it with me. That dude terrorized you. He never deserved you. You know that, don’t you?”

It’s nothing that Johnny hasn’t already told me.

“Yeah,” I say, although it’s not very convincing.

“I’m serious. Whatever happens to him, that’s his fault. You hear me? The universe has its way of balancing good and evil. He can rot in that hospital bed for all I care. Actually, what he did to you, I should fly over there and finish him off myself.” She sighs. “What’s your dad think about all of this?”

“I haven’t really talked to him. The data on his phone is outrageous. We’ve exchanged a few texts but not much else. He told me he was getting settled in and adjusting to life there. Asked how I was. I don’t exactly want to spring this on him, you know? I don’t want him to feel like it’s his fault. He deserves this opportunity, and I’m not going to make him second-guess it.”

If I had told him, he’d probably have hopped on the first flight out of there to come be with me. Maybe if I had to go through this alone, I would have reached out to him, but I didn’t. I had Johnny, and he’s been my constant throughout this whole strange experience.

“Yeah…I suppose.” She turns over on her bed and props herself up on her elbows. “But I’m sure he’d want to know. You were his whole world, Claire.”

“Beth was here, I forgot to mention that part.”

Rosey’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit, that’s huge. How did that go?”

I stand from the stool and stretch. “Fucking weird. She showed up at the hospital and basically hijacked me from the nurse. Brought me back here, and I barely spoke to her. I hid out in my room until Johnny came by and then we snuck out after she’d gone to bed. She left for a flight early the next morning and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“You’re kidding me. Wow. Freaking mother of the year.”

I snort. “I’m not surprised. I mean, look at her track record. But, hey, no more about me. What’s going on with you? How was the writing thing? Was it magical? Did you meet any cute boys?”

Rosey flips over onto her back and lets out a long dramatic breath. “Overall, sure, it was okay.”

I stare into the camera. “But…?”

“It was like a couples thing, dude. Everyone branched off, and I was stuck with some random chick who barely spoke to me the entire time. I swear, it was like a fucking reality TV show where all these attractive single people got paired off and we were the losers no one wanted.”

“Um, you’re talking about my best friend.”

“Whatever.” She seems to perk up. “Does Johnny have any hot friends? Come on, it’s pretty much in the water over there, right?”

She's not wrong, there are a decent number of good-looking people out here, but none of them have caught my eye the way Johnny has. I've barely even noticed anyone else since he bumped into my life. “He doesn’t really have any friends.” Unless you count the dude from the bar. “Well…except for this one guy.”

“I can work with that, what’s he look like?” Her eyes are bright and cheery, totally ready for me to describe her dream man.

“He’s kind of old, Rose.” It kills me to burst her bubble.

“Like, dad old?” She tilts her head to the side.

“No, not quite.” I haven’t even told her anything else, but she already seems back on board.

I’d never consider getting her involved with someone in Johnny’s line of work though. I trust Johnny, but I know nothing about this other guy. Johnny’s motives for joining Franklin are entirely selfless—for all I know, his friend could be in it because he wants to be. What kind of friend would I be if I allowed Rosey to get tangled up with that?

“Go on…” she insists.

I walk over to the window and peer outside. I've been on the call long enough with Rosey that Johnny should probably be on his way back by now. Unless Bram was busy, and the food took longer than usual. Still, though, my anxiety sets in anyway.

That’s when I see him approaching the complex from the street.

The tension in my shoulders releases. I glance back at my screen. "He's probably thirty, seriously."

Rosey cups her chin with her thumb and index finger in a total thinking pose. “I’m totally down for an older dude. Would be a nice change of pace, ya know? What’s he look like?”

I deadpan. “Really?”

“Yes! Come on, Claire-bear. Humor me.”

“He’s not bad, at all, actually.” It takes me a second to recall the details. “He’s huge. Six-foot-something. Broad shoulders, but like built. Not a douchey gym-build though. Umm, what else…a beard…I think he had long dark hair. And visible tattoos.”

I focus back on Rosey and laugh when I see her mouth hanging open.

“I’m in love already.” She clutches at her chest. “The fate of my beautiful future babies rides on you putting in a good word.”

“You’re out of your mind! I don’t even know him.” I turn to see what’s taking Johnny so long and spot him still outside of the gate.

Only now, he’s not alone. There’s a woman with him. From the looks of it, a pretty one. She’s touching his arm and nodding her head, agreeing with whatever it is that he’s telling her. She glances up toward the complex and shifts to where her back is facing me. She leans in, giving Johnny a way too friendly hug, and kisses his cheek.

I try like hell to calm the rage that builds within me. I’ve never been the type to get jealous, but considering the uncertainty of me and Johnny’s relationship, I’m feeling hella insecure right about now. Didn’t I ask him if he was seeing someone else? I could have sworn he had told me no.

"Earth to Claire," Rosey speaks up loud enough to break through my trance.

I shake my head. “Sorry.”

“Did you see a ghost? What the hell happened there?”

"Nothing, hey, Johnny's back with food. Talk later?" I have to at least attempt to process my emotions before his arrival.

“Yeah, sure. But seriously, get the deets on that guy.”

"Okay," I tell her, even though I have no intention of doing so. We're over two thousand miles apart, what good would that do her anyway? "Love you."

“Love you, bestie.”

We hang up, and not a second later, the door swings open and Johnny appears.

So much for gaining some composure.

“You all right?” Johnny asks me, immediately sensing something being off.

I nod and unclench my jaw. “I was just worried.”

He comes over and plants his lips on the side of my face. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

This would be a perfect chance for him to tell me why he was late. To explain who the random gorgeous lady was that greeted him outside our building. To help me make sense of the hug and lingering kiss she left on his cheek.

Instead, he goes over to the counter and unpacks the bag of takeout food, like nothing strange happened at all. “How was your chat with Rosey?”

“Fine.”

Johnny side-eyes me while he puts a burger on each of our plates. He puts the container of fries between them. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted onion rings or not, so I got them, too.”

"Thanks." I walk over and hop onto the stool. I unwrap the napkin-covered utensils and set them both to the side.

“Do you want ketchup?” he asks me.

“Sure.”

He dumps the rest of the bag out, and a dozen packets flop onto the counter.

I force myself not to look at him in an attempt to not make eye contact. It’s obvious that things have been different since what happened to Jared and Steve, but he’s been secretive lately. With the box in the bedroom, and now the girl in the street. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me, and he clearly doesn’t. I thought we were past the whole keeping secrets thing. Haven’t we already been through enough together? Why does he feel like he can’t be honest with me about whatever is going on?

Does he not trust me?

I eat half of my burger in silence, shoving the occasional fry in my mouth here and there. If I wasn’t hungry, I would have already left, but hey, a girl’s got to eat. I poke the screen on my phone to light it up and see the time.

“I’m gonna head to class.” I point to the rest of my food. “Do you want this?”

“Claire.” Johnny grabs my arm gently and forces me to face him. “What’s wrong?”

I avert my gaze. “Nothing.”

He puts a finger under my chin and tilts it up toward him. “I know when you’re lying.”

The second I look into his eyes, I completely lose the ability to ignore him. That freaking connection we have just tugs at my heartstrings.

“You’re being distant.” It’s not the complete truth as to why I’m acting strange all of a sudden, but it’s a start.

He nods as if he understands. “I have a lot on my mind right now.”

Still doesn’t specifically explain any of the weird behavior.

“So do I,” I say defensively.

Johnny frowns and the fading cut on his lip reminds me of all he’s been through these last few months. Prior to that, he was doing this all alone.

I can’t help but think he’d rather go back to that than have to include me in his life. Maybe the newness has worn off and he’s not interested in our relationship anymore. He did warn me like five billion times that I shouldn’t get involved with him. Is this when he pulls the plug on us?

Tears well in my eyes, and I hate myself for the overwhelming emotions that I can’t control. I’ve been bottling everything up and now, with the idea of losing the one thing I thought was completely solid, I’m not sure how to hold it together. I take a deep breath to steady myself.

“Claire,” Johnny’s voice softens, and he pulls me into his arms.

It’s unexpected, especially with where my mind was taking me. Perhaps a pity hug?

“Hey, shh, what’s going on with you?” Johnny pats my back and kisses the top of my head. “Talk to me.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” I mumble into his shirt. “I mean…it’s not like we’re a couple or anything, but you know.”

Johnny quickly breaks apart from me, holding me at an arm’s length. “What? No, of course not. Why? Who said we weren’t a couple?”

I shrug and sniffle.

He continues to grip onto me and stares into my eyes. “Claire. I am telling you right now, we are more together than together can get, okay? Unless you end things, someone is going to have to pry my cold dead hands from you.”

My heart flutters at his declaration. “Really?”

“I swear it.” His serious gaze bores into me, like he’s trying to telepathically get me to understand how sure he is.

But if what he’s saying is true, who was that outside?

“You don’t believe me?” Johnny studies my reaction.

"I want to…" And before the Jared thing, I probably would have without hesitation.

“Is this about earlier?”

Finally, he’s starting to put it together.

“I, uh. I was counting my money.”

“Wait, what?”

He nods toward the direction of his bedroom. “That box. It’s the cash I’ve made from my situation. Well, some of it. It’s sort of stashed all over the house.”

“Oh.” That actually makes decent sense. I’d probably be weird about my illegal income, too. Although that box on his bed was pretty big, and considering the size to amount ratio of what was in that package we recovered, Johnny must be loaded.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think I was hiding anything from you. It was just a knee-jerk reaction. I’m not really used to having someone know about that stuff yet.” Johnny runs his hand along my cheek, wiping the remnants of my tears away.

I bite my lip, unsure of whether or not I should spit out the question hanging on the tip of my tongue. “There’s nothing else?” More like, no one else.

Johnny sighs and weaves his fingers through his hair, brushing it out of his face.

“Who is she?” I blurt without giving it any more thought.

He tilts his head and his brows furrow. “What?”

“The girl, from downstairs.” I force myself to remain calm despite the bubbling nerves wanting to take hold.

“Oh, Claire,” he sighs. “That’s what has you worked up? Christ.” He clutches his chest and lets out a breath. “You had me freaking out there for a second. Whatever you think that was, you’re wrong. That’s Isabella.”

Still not totally sure why she was kissing his cheek.

“Billy’s aunt.”

As in kid Billy from across the way?

“I’m working with her, that’s part of the plan. I just haven’t told anyone because I don’t want it to get out and something go wrong.”

This time, it’s me that cocks my head to the side. “What?”

“You didn’t really think I was going to work for Franklin forever, did you?”

“I mean, I hoped not.”

Johnny repositions in his seat to face me. “The system is flawed. When Billy’s parents died, he was placed with his abusive prick uncle. His aunt, who lives out of town, has been trying to get custody of him but obviously, there are all these formalities in place. There's a court hearing coming up, and I'm set to be a character witness. If all goes well, Billy's guardianship will change, and he'll finally be free of that asshole. That's why I get stressed about my involvement with the cops; I don't want my reputation to be tainted and the judge dismisses anything I have to say."

“But you literally work for a criminal.”

Johnny shakes his head. “Franklin would never incriminate himself; he’s an idiot, but he’s not dumb.”

All of the pieces of the puzzle finally fit into place. Everything Johnny has been doing has been for this bigger picture.

“And Izzy? She’s like forty-something and overly grateful for what I’ve done for Billy. Downstairs, what you saw was her updating me on the hearing and thanking me for helping her. The attorney she’s using has high hopes of getting it moved up in the next few weeks.”

“You’re kidding me! That’s great, right?”

Johnny exhales. “Yeah. It’s been a long time coming.”

And suddenly, all of my doubts are erased, and I find myself in disbelief that I had any to begin with. My insecurities were nothing that Johnny had done, but everything to do with myself and the things that haunt my past. For once, I have someone in my life who actually cares about me and the people around him.

“I’m sorry for making something out of nothing,” I tell him.

“No, I should have told you.” Johnny takes my hand in his. “It’s hard for me to accept that you’re here—that we’re in this together now.”

I think of the time Johnny and I have shared, the battles we have faced, the obstacles we have overcome. Somehow, if we can just make it through a few more, it will be smooth sailing. We'll finally get to be a normal-ish couple.

An image of Griffin pops into my head. Him having his breathing tubes taken out, him regaining consciousness, him telling the cops exactly what happened. Johnny being confronted by the police and questioned about that night. His credibility being lost. And the entire plan unfolding and Franklin maintaining a grip on Johnny for the rest of his life.

Only, there’s no way in hell I’d allow that to happen. I have to do something—anything— to make sure Griffin never speaks again.