by Frances June
Chapter 2
T here was no real procedure. The doctor seemed hesitant to pull the drawer out of the wall and then, when he had, he stalled again. His eyes betrayed his unease at the situation. No doubt it wasn't normal for this many people to come and identify a John Doe, he probably thought he was in the presence of the mob.
When Jack nodded and the white gauze was pulled back the six intakes of breath were proof of why he seemed like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
It was probably normal for brutally beaten bodies to pass through a city morgue. New York, in particular, wasn't exactly known for its passive population, but this... This was something else.
In all my years living the life I used to live I'd seen my fair share of damage. Dealt it, mostly. That version of myself, my life, was all in the rear-view.
Still, nothing prepared me or my stomach for Billy's body, or what was left of it.
Savaged. No, that wasn't strong enough a word. Looking at what was left of my brother it was hard to pick anything other than 'sick'.
"Jesus fuck." Matt spoke for the first time. I'd avoided looking at him, mostly because I felt the most guilt at what had gone down between us.
His pale complexion paled even more as he took in the sight of the body. All of our faces mirrored the grief we felt. In that moment we were brothers again.
It wasn't long before it was shattered.
"You see what happens when we don't stick together? You did this." Luke came at me faster than I could have expected.
His fist connected with my jaw and I went down hard.
"You son of a bitch!" His foot connected with my face before I could even defend myself, blood filled my mouth which was just fucking fantastic.
"Hey, hey take it outside you two..." The doctor had backed into a corner way behind Jack who I could see was reaching for his gun. Even with my head spinning and a mouth full of blood I could tell he was itching to pull it.
"Don't bother," Luke shook his hand which made me feel better. He'd never been the heavy man, hopefully my jaw broke his fingers, "Take a good look at what you've done."
He spat at me and left which was better than our last parting so by the time I'd counted to ten a few times I felt a lot better.
*
The blood stopped soon after Luke had left, probably because bleeding in front of my dead brother felt in poor taste.
"He took this hard, Saul, just give him time." Ash tried his hardest to say the right things and to keep the peace but I knew him too well to take it as gospel.
"He's a dick and time isn't going to change that. It just might make him a bigger dick." Matt pulled the cover over Billy's body but I could still see it in my mind. I doubted I’d ever forget. "That's him."
The ringing in my ears was jarring and I saw Jack exchange some words with the doctor before the guy scurried from the room like one of those giant street rats that could kill you, given the chance.
"We’re taking off." Benji kept his eyes away from the slab where Billy lay.
"Gonna see if we can catch up with Luke, see what he wants to do." Liev didn't even stop to apologise for taking sides. He left the room with Benji hot on his heels before I could even call him a coward.
"What he wants to do? Christ, the best thing any of us can do is keep as far away from this as possible." The threat of my old life creeping into my new was enough to make the pain in my jaw explode again, like a fresh kick to the face.
"Some of us aren't so lucky, bro." Matt hung his head and followed the others out of the room.
"And you, Ash? You gonna get your hands dirty on this one?" I didn't care. I don't care.
"What was it Father Monroe always said?" Ash asked as he took his leave. "Auribus teneo lupum?"
Always one for the dramatics he left without waiting for an answer.
"Holding a wolf by the ears"
It had been Monroe's favourite saying. I'd never much understood the relevance but he had often said it to himself like he was reminding himself of something. Whatever Ash had meant was as lost on me as whatever Monroe meant. I'd never been one for higher thinking.
"Hold on..." Jack was pushing the drawer back into the wall but I grabbed his shoulder. He tensed and I wondered if, for a second, he considered just shooting me there and then.
I pulled the covers back and looked at Billy again. His face was mottled, swollen and wrong. His good looks had been transformed into those of a monster from a movie.
I picked up his hands, the dead weight was all wrong, it was odd that the absence of life would make him heavier. His fingers were black and burnt in a way I'd never seen.
"I know you won’t listen but... don’t do it, man.” Jack used to look out for me. He’d watch my back whenever we were up to no good. This didn’t feel like that kind of helpful warning. “I'm just saying, don't do it."
*
I decided to walk as far as I could before my feet gave out before I hailed a cab. It was about fifty blocks back to the apartment. I'd be happy to make it to twenty in the cold.
Getting caught up in Billy's mistakes wasn't on my agenda. I'd worked hard to get away from all of that. Jack was on the case, I fully intended to let him solve the whole thing, there was nothing I could do. I couldn't regrow Billy's teeth, un-burn his fingers. I couldn't bring him back to life.
I made it to Grand Central before my legs tired and my brain buzzed with everything. It was almost six and the sun glinted off the buildings like they were on fire in another life.
The streets were starting to get pretty busy which was the last thing I needed. Even as I looked for an escape route, I saw a young guy in an NYU hoodie walk past with his hood pulled over his head. He had a huge coffee cup in his hand and the way he hustled down the street like he had nowhere to go but somewhere to be made me think of Billy.
If the last hour hadn’t just happened, I would have sworn it was him, I would have turned and walked in another direction. Now, I couldn’t take my eyes off this young kid who would probably never end up dead and dumped into the ocean before his 30th birthday.
The tears started before I could man up and stop them. It wasn't like I was against crying but these were the kind of tears that made you shudder from shoulder to shin.
I ducked into a side road and into a doorway for a burnt-out department store. Breathing seemed like the hardest thing to do and Luke's words echoed in my head, over and over.
Maybe if I‘d stuck around I could have stopped this from happening. Sure, Billy had made his own decisions but what would have happened if I'd have been there for him?
Before I could flagellate myself further a girl with short bleached hair and a few inches worth of black roots stopped in front of me. She was typical New York grunge right down to the trashy doc martin boots. Apart from that and the studs that littered her ears and face she was pretty cute.
"Got a light?" She dangled a roll up between her black chipped nail polished fingers. She wasn't even wearing gloves. Or a warm enough jacket, for that matter. The holes in her skin tight jeans worried me because I’m apparently suffering from young-onset old age.
"I just quit."
There was something I didn't like about this girl. I mentally checked my pockets, trying to remember where I'd put my wallet and phone so I could give myself a pat down later.
"Right, so that's not a post nicotine glow you've got." She smiled sweetly but it came across as sour as spoilt milk.
"That’s probably a post-morgue glow." I muttered. It wasn't in my nature to make people feel awkward but the nerve of this girl sparked a part of me I buried away with the aid of nicotine patches, bank account monitoring and anger management lessons.
"You a cop?" She took a step back like it was infectious. There was something in the way the light hit her skin that made me rethink my initial dislike. She was old enough for me to admire her attitude but young enough for me to possibly regret it the next morning.
"Why would you think I'm a cop?" I looked down at my clothes; I
was still wearing sweat pants under my coat and my boots were on the way out. Not even an undercover officer would go out looking like this.
"You just have an edge, besides, why else would you be at a morgue this early on a Monday morning?" She produced a small metal tin and tucked her roll up inside.
I didn't know if she was being obtuse on purpose so I gave her a few seconds to figure it out. It was cute how her cheeks flushed when she clocked my red-rimmed eyes. Whether it was real sincerity or because she had decided I was a good mark after all, she took a step back towards me, closing the gap quicker than I anticipated.
"Holy shit, I'm a fucking bitch." She placed a hand on my shoulder, it was the light touch you'd give a stranger and it held a promise I might have collected on once upon a time. "No one close, I hope?"
I couldn't make this any better for her. It was comical, in a way. Here I was, grieving, and yet I was trying not to hurt her feelings. This was a big day for my inner rage.
"It was my brother; we weren't close, don't worry."
She pulled her hand back like I no longer warranted emotional support, biting her lip in a way that showed she knew how things like this normally went.
"Hey, listen, let's go and get a drink. Do you need a drink? I think you need a drink." She talked fast and bounced on the balls of her feet. The way she was looking around made me nervous, like she was expecting someone to come around the corner and bust us. It dawned on me she could be a hooker. I hoped she'd made better life choices than that.
"I'm both on the wagon and also thinking it may be a little early to be hitting hard liquor."
Her energy had changed from nervous and apologetic to something else. The survivalist in me could hear Monroe reminding me to leave any situation I felt unsafe in; I'm sure I could take her if she turned violent but if she had a pimp I might be in for a world of pain.
"it's cliché o'clock somewhere... come on, I'm buying, there's this great bar just down there..." She turned and pointed towards an alley way.
The funny thing is when you're a New Yorker you knew that it was a legitimate option that a bar might be down an alley. You also knew that people tended to get murdered in them.
The girl craned her head around again to look back towards the busying street towards Grand Central. I saw, along with her piercings, a strange tattoo on the side of her neck just behind her right ear. From my quick glance it looked like a tiny monster or gargoyle like you'd see on the side of a church. They'd always creeped me out.
"No, really, I gotta go - thanks though." The time to leave had presented itself and I wrapped my coat tightly around myself and made a move towards the business crowd. "Hope you find a light."
"Maybe I'll see you around." She called after me.
I very much doubted it seeing as I tended not to spend any time this far uptown but I waved anyway.
It wasn’t until I was in a cab that I looked back just to see if she was still there, maybe waiting for another guy to scam but before the driver joined the bustling traffic, I saw she was talking to a pretty giant looking dude in dark clothing. I couldn't make out his face but he looked like the sort of guy who could literally punch my face through to the other side of my head. That was a close call. Another reason to remember why I cut my brother’s out of my life.
After a highly erratic journey I arrived back at my apartment in one piece but when I reached for cash to pay the driver my hand hit empty pocket. The call wasn’t as close as I’d thought.
My wallet had obviously taken the girl up on her offer for drinks.
Lucky for me I knew the secret code cab drivers used in instances like this.
"I'm gonna need to call my girlfriend to pay..." I grabbed my phone from my pocket, just thankful the peroxide thief had taken pity on the crying man in the street and only stolen his wallet.
Before I could dial the driver turned around and squinted at me through the finger marked glass between us.
"You're Billy's brother, right?" He was relatively young for a cabbie, probably mid to late 20's with a jaw most guys would rather not admit to being jealous of.
"Um... yeah..." I took in his face, trying to place him but I'd never been good at remembering people. Places, numbers, debts; they were my strong suits.
"Gio," He pointed to his driver I.D like it would clarify things. "I knew Billy from a few years back. We ran DVD's... totally legit, you know, no stealing or anything. Kind of lost touch. Can't believe the news."
"You heard already?" News traveled fast, especially this kind of news. I had no doubt the rats were jumping ship.
"It's big news; that ain't no way to go, no way man, and Billy of all people. You gonna find who did this?" He was almost fully turned around now, his brow furrowed in what I assumed was real concern. On the street you were a hustler but you were also part of a family.
I sighed.
"And end up like he did? I'm outta that life." I scrolled through my phone until I found Morgan's number.
Looking up at the building I could see our blinds were open so she was awake and no doubt waiting for me with her patented look of anger.
She was going to demand information. I contemplated lying but she always knew. Hell, if I knew how. I'd played enough poker to know I didn't have a tell but Morgan had supernatural powers of truth.
"Hey man, count this one on me. Condolences and all that." He was a sharp one, at least. Rio clicked the doors open and saluted me. "Hope they catch the bastards."
*
I waved to him as he drove away, happy to know that Billy had at least one decent friend over the years. Sometimes my faith in humanity was restored in the most obscure places.
When I got to the front door I grabbed the handle and shook it with all the built up aggression from the morning. The only reason I stopped was because I heard the sound of something cracking.
If I gave a hard enough yank I probably could have ripped the door right open; the fact my keys were in my wallet meant that was an actual option but giving my rage that kind of external release was bad news.
"Locked out, huh?" Mrs. Grimsdale from the apartment beneath mine stepped up behind me with two bags of groceries under her arms. Fresh flowers and bread poked out of the top like hidden treasures.
"Trade - entrance for muscle?" I took the bags from her and gave her my most charming smile hoping she hadn’t seen the outburst.
It always boded well to keep her on side, I found. Especially when other residents of the building complained about the noise that came from my apartment on occasion. She was old enough and ballsy enough to carry a lot of weight with the landlord.
"Good day at the market, Mrs. G?" Small talk wasn't my best trait and yet here I was, my second attempt of the day.
"I suppose... It's almost tourist season so the crowds are growing..." She opened the door and I followed her to the elevator. She hit the button for the 3rd floor.
I tried to take my time, helping her unpack her groceries and put everything away, but even going as slowly as I could without looking like a psycho, the time came to go home.
The elevator ride was too quick, despite recent complaints by other tenants to the landlord stating otherwise, and when the door dinged open I wished I could just collapse into y bed but Morgan was waiting right at the door, saving me the need to lie about why I would have needed to knock.
Something about the interaction with that girl seemed troublesome, and it wasn’t even because she’d stolen from me, in fact, that part was expected. If I told Morgan she would worry but if I lied she’d rip into me like a category 5 tornado.
"Hey..." She wrapped her arms around me before I could think. It felt so good to be home, back in the world where my brothers didn't ruin every aspect of my life anymore. "Got your text, I can't even believe it. How was it?"
"You don't even want to know." I grabbed her and lifted her off the ground, she smelt of almonds and cinnamon rolls. She wasn't even mad that I broke the news to her that way which was both cowardly
of me and also stupidly nice of her.
Despite her look of annoyance she was trying to hide she patted my arm and I let her feet touch the ground again but only because she'd asked. If she let me I'd wrap myself up in her all day, every day. If there was one thing my old life was good for it was bringing her to me.
"Tell me."
Taking my hand, she led me into the kitchen and I laid it all out for her. Every detail seemed gross in hindsight, like a cheap bar that seemed kind of acceptable at the time but when the lights came on in the morning you wondered how you hadn't noticed the piss stained floors before.
"Oh Billy..." She was too good for my family. "He was always the good one, how did he end up..." She buried her face in her hands, potentially to hide how her face would betray her words.
She really didn't like Billy all that much but I appreciated the lie.
He'd been there when she got hit, once. Ancient history. He hadn't lifted a hand to help, even when she was wiping the blood from her nose.
He really had been a good guy but he just didn't do anything with that good nature. It was like he couldn't be bothered to live up to his potential.
"That's just their life, you know that. We both know that. Thank fuck we're out." I grabbed her hands and lifted her face up. Her dark hair fell away and I drank in her dark skin, the way it seemed to have been poured over her like melted chocolate.
Chapter 3
T he rest of the day dragged on. Morgan left for work at The Color Box, a local hair salon. She'd worked her ass off training and building this life I'd be damned if I let our old life, or rather my old life, pull her back down.
A hot shower and nicotine patch later I contemplated my predicament. Getting new keys and credit cards wouldn't be a problem but the whole ordeal felt unresolved.
I'd been mugged before and I'd done my fair share of mugging when I was a kid. I don't know, maybe the game had changed since I last played but for a hot girl to engage in conversation and take my wallet when it was me who'd walked away... something didn't add up.