Injustice Read online

  “How is this not going to destroy me?”

  “At the end of your conversation with Mosaic, remind them of your past and future monetary worth to the company and request a demotion and a transfer, as you need to focus on beating such a debilitating and embarrassing addiction. There is a nice in-patient treatment center in Los Angeles that you want to check yourself into for a sixty-day stint. After that, and with the blessings bestowed upon you by Mosaic, you can return to the home office in LA, where you will blend in with all the other freaks trying to kick their addictions.”

  There was a long pause, and I thought for a second that Joey had disconnected. “Why are you doing this? Because of a chick? I never fucked her, if that’s what this—”

  “Your iPhone and home phone are wired. I can monitor and hear your calls. You will immediately dial Mosaic when we finish this conversation. If I’m not happy with the outcome, I’m sending your blow job escapade to both the local news and to the national media. Mosaic probably won’t be happy to see your sad little dick streaming across CNN. Your best option is to grovel and retreat to California. Deal?”

  Joey sighed. “Deal.”

  “And Joey?”

  “Yeah?”

  “This is a forever deal. I’ll be watching you now, even in California.”

  Chapter 13

  It was now late Sunday afternoon. I looked at the stack of law books as I poured yet another cup of coffee. I knew that if I was going to save the world, I was going to have to better budget my time. I had to put more effort into my studies. I had the study group tonight, and it would take me longer than the rest of today to outline the chapters I was assigned. I couldn’t skimp on this. I sighed and parked myself at the desk, turned on the laptop, coffee close at hand, pot still brewing the next cups I would need to get through the material.

  I reviewed the various assignments I had to read and pushed all the women that had consumed my waking and sleeping hours for the past few days out of my mind. I was taking Criminal Law, Lawyering Process, and Torts. I cracked the Crim book, highlighter in hand. After about a paragraph, I was feeling that toothpicks literally were the only things that were going to keep my eyeballs seeing any kind of light.

  Maybe a change of topic was in order. I focused on Lawyering Process and the writing assignment we had due, The Case of the Spleluncean Explorers. We were to read this little booklet with the story, the case, and write up what we read, using the IRAC method: Issue, Rule, Analysis, Conclusion. What’s the question, or issue? What rule do you apply to it? How do you analyze it, applying the rule to the issue? What conclusion do you come to? Sounds easy enough, but we’d had the big bad warning that very few people in law school ever got an A in a class, much less in a writing class, so don’t get your hopes up. Legal writing was apparently not for the faint of heart. I think it was much more effective for those who had no heart and actually succeeded by ripping out the hearts of others.

  It was due later in the week, but I knew that it was something I’d have to draft and then let sit and come back to a few times, to revise and revise until I was satisfied. The tale of the spelunceans was interesting. I made my IRAC outline on the computer and filled in the basic blanks, then expanded my analysis until my brain couldn’t think of anything more relevant. The other pieces of the outline were to be only about a sentence long.

  I stretched and looked at the clock. Half my time was gone, but the draft was completed. I realized my stomach was crying for more than sugary caffeine-filled liquid, so I opened up the fridge to see what the options were. Hmmm. Looks like a nice Sunday breakfast burrito, or actually an afternoon burrito. I cooked up the eggs and threw in other stuff until it looked interesting, not sure how, exactly, it would actually taste. You can never have too much cheese, and I found several different kinds, each of which only needed a small portion of fuzzy stuff cut off before it was considered fit for my consumption.

  Back to Crim, now with a full belly. I worked through the sections I was supposed to outline for the study group, grabbed a quick shower, and headed to the first session.

  As I pulled up in the parking lot of GoodFriends, I saw Carina getting out of her truck. I went over to say hello, as usual taking in her wild clothing choices. Today, it was tight-fitting black and white zebra print pants and a bright red shirt. As I got closer, I could see that her truck seats looked like someone had cut them apart, the stuffing sticking out everywhere. “So what’s up with that?”

  She laughed. “Well, I’m bipolar, and that is the result of not taking my antidepressants and trying to give up smoking, all at once.” She paused to light a cigarette. “I couldn’t get the seat to move forward, so I took a screwdriver and stabbed the thing to death. I was a little stressed out. I guess you had to be there.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “You know it’s not good to lose a fight with an inanimate object.”

  She looked at me carefully, blew some smoke my way, which I dodged, and grabbed her own heavy bag of books. “Yeah, that truck will think twice about pissing me off again.”

  Everyone arrived on time, Ali being the last one. She chose to sit as far from me as possible and looked exhausted, trying to keep her eyes open. Her hair was up, and I found myself looking at the back of her neck, imagining my lips running across her skin. I roused myself from the daydream and watched from a distance, knowing that it was too much to hope for a repeat of last night’s kiss. Our group monopolized a section, filling the tables with books, food, and drinks, many of which went to Ali. When she got up to use the bathroom, I took the opportunity to chat with her. As I shut the outer door to the bathroom, I could see that Ali was the only one there; her shoes were the only thing visible. “Hey. How are you?”

  I wasn’t sure what to expect. There was a silence, and then after a few minutes she came out and gave me a peck on the cheek. I could smell the alcohol, more than she could have consumed in the short time we’d been there.

  “That bastard just won’t let up.”

  Outrage filled my very being. I resisted asking how this started, but she was in a talking mood, so I didn’t have to. Ali looked into my eyes. “Tommy was delivering packages pretty regularly to my parents’ house, and after a while, I agreed to have coffee with him. He seemed pretty normal at first, so I went out with him a few times. I don’t know what I was thinking. For a while I thought I might be bi, but I was wrong in the end. I tried to make it work with him and I didn’t realize how much he loved me until it was too late. I guess I figured that guys were less complicated. Obviously I was wrong, because it became the typical story of being too possessive and having to know all my movements. I finally told Tommy that I couldn’t do it anymore, but he finds me wherever I go, or e-mails, or texts, or just calls and leaves messages, or leaves things at my home. He’s mad because I told him I was gay. That night he said he was going to kill both of us.”

  I kept my emotions in check. “Did you love him?”

  Ali paused. “I loved him. But I was never in love with him. The whole situation just makes me sad now.”

  Wearing someone down to a nub like he was doing to her took a lot of effort on his part. I didn’t know what to say, what to do. She had probably come to the bar the last night to talk to me about it. My face was already hot from the alcohol and the idea of Tommy, but knowing she left last night after possibly coming for my help and leaving without it, I was pretty close to steaming. I, of course, tried to hide it; and she, of course, was very calm, at least on the exterior.

  “Ali, you need to get a restraining order,” I said.

  Her laugh surprised me. Ali gave me a hard look and shook her head. “A piece of paper from the court does nothing to protect me, Riley. If anything, it will only motivate him to kill me, and probably you, that much quicker.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No, Riley. You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ali turned and walked away, leaving me stung by her words.

  We returned to the group, still at d
ifferent ends of the table, participating in the rest of the study session but knowing that we had much heavier things hanging over us. It was making me crazy, not knowing what to do for her. Despite our disagreement over the restraining order, I smiled for the first time in a while. Crazy was the key word here. Even though Ali hid it well, I knew that Tommy was making her literally crazy, and it was time to return the favor.

  After the group ended, we all hung out in the parking lot for a few minutes. I looked across the street and swore that I saw Tommy there, sitting in a Jeep, just watching. I thought about mentioning it to Ali but decided against it. He caught my eye, waited a few minutes, and then drove away. After the group broke up, I again asked Ali if she needed a ride. As she was about to respond, that really nice Jag from before showed up, this time sporting another older, just as handsome man. I had to ask. “Who’s that?”

  She looked over at him and waved. “My father.”

  My jaw was hanging on the ground, but I scooped it up far enough to ask more. “Well then who was the other guy?”

  Her brows furrowed briefly. “Oh, he’s my dad, too. You want to meet them?”

  I shrugged and followed her to the car. The driver got out, and so did a passenger that I hadn’t noticed. “Riley. These are my dads, Ron and Mark.”

  I was pleased to meet them, and I told them so. “Riley, so nice to finally meet you. We heard what you did for Ali, and we can’t thank you enough.”

  The shock was probably still apparent on my face. I made little effort to hide it. “I’m just glad she was okay. Even though it wasn’t the best way, at least I got to meet her.”

  They were so happy, this little family unit. Was it real? It looked that way. “Well, Ali will have to bring you over for dinner one night. It’s the least we can do. I know your schedules are busy, so don’t feel pressured, but you’re welcome any time.”

  Ali chimed in. “I’m staying with them for a little while, until the Tommy thing calms down.”

  She gave me a hug, and they all took off, with me waving for some strange reason.

  Chapter 14

  When I got home, I pondered Ali’s situation with Tommy. I had managed to get his full name from her and wasn’t sure exactly how I was going to pull it off, but I had a pretty good idea. I pulled up switchboard.com, and there he was, living only a few miles from the law school campus. Next stop was the DMV website, to see what he drove. A Jeep Wrangler. Only about a million of those around, so I took down the plates. I also noted that he had a commercial license. Ali did say he delivered packages. I hacked the IRS website, with e-file making my research so much easier, and found that his W-2s were from UPS, of all places. Hmmm, an angry psycho who drives around the city all day. Now it was time to have some fun. I figured it was a good time to do a little preliminary research and headed over to see just where this guy made his home. Tommy, where are you? Come out and play. He drove an older Jeep, and the one I had seen him in earlier was parked on the street some distance from the apartment, which made my life easier. From what I could see, there were no lights on inside. Parking in the area was tight, but there was a little room on the opposite side of the same street. I slid the Slim Jim into the door and easily and quietly popped the lock open.

  Inside, it was such a simple matter of pulling out a few wires, and the engine roared to life. I drove around the block and parked it in the alternative spot, checking the interior of the Jeep for anything else that might be helpful as time went on. Knowing UPS drivers all left the gates at 9:00 a.m., I planned on being back around eight or so to see how it played out.

  I trekked the two blocks back to my own car and headed back to my empty apartment and fell immediately asleep.

  Chapter 15

  I decided on a bike ride in the morning instead of a run, since I had some ground to cover and not a lot of time to get there. As I headed down the street, just one more person out for some exercise, I blended in with the city’s morning flavor. The only thing about biking in the morning was not getting run off the road by the cranky drivers who were trying to get to work on time, finishing their morning routines while behind the wheel. This was way beyond distracted driving, so sometimes the fact that traffic crawled was a good thing. I cruised past the bumper-to-bumper line on Colfax and opted to stay off Colorado Boulevard to reach my destination, heading for a less-used street for my approach. I stopped down the block from Tommy’s complex, checking my shoes and having a drink of water. The Jeep was still where I left it, and after waiting only a few minutes, Tommy sailed out, coffee in hand, clad in brown, doing a double take when the Jeep wasn’t where he thought he’d left it. You could see his brain processing, and then with a shrug of the shoulders he headed to the vehicle, looked around it, got in, and took off.

  I watched him go and coasted down the sidewalk, knowing that this time of day was busy for the comings and goings of people. Dark glasses and my bike helmet would keep people from describing me, but I didn’t want them to be in a position to have to give that description. I locked my bike a short distance away and headed to Tommy’s building, which wasn’t locked. Down the hall I went, glad he was only on the first floor, since bike shoes aren’t really conducive to walking far, with the clip mechanisms below the ball of each foot.

  When I reached the door, I pulled a small kit out of my backpack and prepared to pop open the lock; then I stopped cold. What if he wasn’t the only one who lived there? I knocked at the door, waited, and then knocked again. One of the neighbors down the hall, on his way to work, barely glanced at me. “He’s at work.”

  I nodded, a little uncomfortable. “Thanks. I’ll stop by later.”

  As soon as the neighbor was out of sight, I manipulated the tumblers on the old door easily and slid inside, closing the door quietly behind me. The living room was neat and clean. In the bathroom I opened the medicine cabinet and grinned from ear to ear as I read the bottle, discovering that Tommy was bipolar and needed these pills to stay stable instead of having uncontrolled highs and lows. I pocketed one of the little jewels. He was making things way too easy. I shifted the furniture around just slightly, moved towels just a little bit, and opened the door to the bedroom.

  I stopped there, unable to move, my eyes fixed on what seemed to be Ali wallpaper. I couldn’t count the number of pictures Tommy had of her, all with some kind of captions and many with red x’s or circles on various body parts. That son of a bitch! I just kept looking and looking, not able to comprehend it all. I took out a camera from my bag and documented the walls. Although I’d only come with the intention of messing with Tommy’s mind a little, this was a game changer. I dug deeper into the bag, taking out two small metal containers that looked much like cell phones. I put one under the mattress and one under the cushion of his couch.

  Next, I pulled on some gloves and sat down at Tommy’s computer, plugging in even more high-tech gadgets until I achieved my goal. I now had complete access to his computer and would retain it remotely.

  I’d been there too long, and while I wanted to do more damage, I left as quietly as I’d entered, smiling all the way down the opposite end of the hall.

  I finished a good bike ride and headed back to my own little refuge. I pulled off my shoes and helmet, propped the sunglasses on my head, and padded over to the desk chair, sighing contentedly as my butt made contact.

  I checked the clock, finding that it was almost ten, and sat bolt upright. Ten? Crap. I had a lot to do. I knew I’d been so far behind because of these little side projects, and I was having trouble concentrating, so I really needed to buckle down today.

  My phone rang. It was Ali. “Hey. I’m downstairs. Sorry for the short notice, but can I come up for a few minutes?”

  Only one thing came out of my mouth, despite my desire to stop it. “Sure.”

  She appeared in short order, again looking tired. I attributed it to the Tommy issue. “I was going to go to my place and pick up some clothes and grab some lunch. I thought you might want to join me
.”

  I headed back to the kitchen. “I’m making lunch. What would you like?”

  Ali shrugged. “I’m easy.”

  For some reason I couldn’t shake that comment, like the lyrics of a song, playing over and over in my head. “Eggs it is.”

  I changed the subject. “I have so much to do for the week. I can’t believe how much they put on us.”

  “Yes, they do keep us busy. I don’t want to keep you, if you don’t have the time to spare.”

  I smiled. “There’s room for both of us to work if you want to stay.”

  She nodded. “If you’re okay with that. Some people can’t study with others around, so don’t feel obligated.”

  I looked at her sideways. “I’m not big on obligations. You want to pick up your clothes when we take a study break?”

  She picked up her bag and looked around for a place to set up shop. I waved my arm in a circle, indicating that any old space would do.

  “Sure. Works for me.” She unpacked the electronics and heavy textbooks and organized her day as I literally made some food for thought.

  We ate while we both focused on the materials for the week ahead, thoroughly reviewing the night’s subjects, as we would likely be called upon to spout what we’d read.

  After a few hours of mind-numbing reading, I headed for the shower; and when I was done, we agreed that it was a good time to get some clothes for her. The trip to her apartment took only about ten minutes. I checked my watch and noted that Tommy should still be at work at that hour. I was sure she was aware of that as well. What I didn’t know was where his route was. I didn’t want Tommy to see us together and figure out where my apartment was. I didn’t want to be on his radar at all.

  I just assumed Ali lived in an apartment, like most of the people our age, but when she told me to stop at a nice house in Cherry Creek. The inside was beautiful. There were wood floors and trim, a fireplace, and a loft bedroom. It wasn’t fancy or pretentious, just very nice.