“I found this,” she said, pulling open her bag and showing him the file. “It was in his desk. I think he’s been watching me for a long time. What does it mean?”
She handed him the file and Pie opened it up.
She couldn’t stop moving. Her leg was bouncing up and down, and she watched everyone and everything.
“Wow,” he said. He turned over each photo, clearly shocked by what he saw.
“What do you think it all means?”
“I think he wanted you and was going to do anything he could to have you. He clearly knew what he was doing.”
The waitress came back, and Pie slid the file into his jacket. Lindsey thanked the woman for her turkey on rye, and then turned her attention back to him.
“This doctor, he wasn’t a good guy, not even a little bit. I’ve seen a bit of the tapes. He was fucking twisted, Lindsey, like seriously fucking disturbed. You got away really lucky. There’s a lot of women that didn’t.”
“I don’t think you should be so close to this.”
“I can handle myself, Lindsey. I’ve got to do something to bring closure to this shit. I won’t do anything to put myself in danger. Trust me.”
“Why does it have to be you?”
“I’m the only one that knows he’s dead. It has to be me.”
He took her hand. “Trust me.”
“I do trust you, more than you ever know.” She squeezed his hand and offered him a smile.
One month later
“Is it hard for you to see him like this?” Pie asked, looking over at Matthew as he weeded the back yard of the clubhouse. So far, the kid had been forced to clean toilets, scrub the floors, clean up after every single party, do all the shit jobs that no one enjoyed doing but had to seeing as it was part of being with the club.
Duke glanced over at his son and sighed. “I tell you, he’s doing a hell of a lot better than he did last time.”
“What happened last time?” Lindsey asked, sipping at her glass of wine.
Pie snorted. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”
Pike and Dime laughed.
“The little shit thought because he was Duke’s son that it entitled him to a certain level of freedom,” Pike said. “Pissed a lot of people off.”
“He wasn’t ready,” Holly said. “He needed to grow up, and fast.”
“Well now he’s all grown up, and I think it’s cute that he’s doing what he’s doing,” Zoe said.
Pie looked at Lindsey.
With the summer fading fast, the Trojans MC had decided on one last party to mark the end of it. Also, they were heading on the road for a couple of days, which always made for a tense time at any party.
The club was doing a gun run for Diaz, to get some weapons to his crew in the south. He had a shitload of people all over the States, his crew spreading far and wide. Raoul’s friendship with him had done wonders for the club.
“It certainly won’t be long before one of these women will be wanting to show him a good time,” Lindsey said.
Holly wrinkled her nose. “I still remember him being a teenage boy, and that’s the way I want him to stay.”
“Oh, you mean when he had a crush on you,” Duke said, pulling her against him with an arm over his shoulder.
“Really? That is so cute. Then you became his stepmom,” Lindsey said.
“It was nothing. Matthew has always been a sweetie. Can’t say the same about his dad.”
“Come on, you don’t want me to be sweet. You love it when I’m very, very bad.”
Pie watched as Lindsey smiled.
The past month had been hard for the two of them. Between her getting back to work and him dealing with club stuff, along with the women that Richard had hurt, there hadn’t been much time for them.
They still hung out, but he stayed a few nights with Diaz to go through more of the women. Richard had been nearing fifty, and it looked like he’d first started his rape and blackmail in his early twenties.
The things he knew now, he hated the sick motherfucker with a passion.
Pie was really disgusted by him, but that didn’t make it any easier, not by a long shot.
“What is it?” she asked.
The bruising had gone now, and even though she smiled once again, there also seemed to be a reserve there as well. Almost as if she was terrified of saying or doing something that would draw attention.
He also noticed her dress sense had changed.
Kasey had told him they’d gone shopping and that Lindsey had changed her entire wardrobe. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen her in a dress or a skirt. Now it was jeans or trousers, or something that covered most of her curvy body.
Her blonde hair was rarely down, and the attack had lingered with her.