Identity

by Brandy Slaven

  “Oh, man,” Orsam groans, “you just had to bring that one back up, didn’t you? Some chick had an infatuation with my damn tail all night long.”

  I bark out a laugh. “I think she only liked you for that tail.”

  He rolls his eyes to the ceiling. “That was obvious, because when I told her I wasn’t sleeping in the damn costume, I don’t think I’ve ever had a woman kick me out as fast as she did.”

  “Like I said,” he adds, poking a fork my direction, “you always get us into the weirdest shit.”

  “Or what about the time she tried to talk us into going into the city to protest that animal shelter? Darling something or other.” Ransam jests honestly.

  “Oh, and the time you tried to get me to give that lady with the dragon tattoo a ride,” Orsam volleys.

  “Admit it,” I tell them, “I make your life interesting, and you know it.”

  Ransam nods eagerly, but it takes a minute of shrugging and sighing before Orsam finally caves, “Okay, fine. Not all of it has been bad.”

  “Then go to this shindig with me tomorrow,” I say before plopping another dumpling in my mouth.

  “Ugh,” he growls. “Fine, but I’m not wearing costumes or anything with a tail. If I don’t have whatever I need in my closet, then I’ll be going as myself.”

  I reach a hand across the table and wait until his large palm swamps my own. “You’ve got a deal.”

  “One more thing,” he adds before letting me go. “If things get weird for any of us, then we’re out. No questions asked.”

  Nodding together, we both turn to Ransam. He slams a hand down on top of ours sealing the three-way deal.

  The next day, I carefully slip on my dress over the styled wig. I hadn’t wanted to splurge on it, but I couldn’t very well go to a fifties anything with a haircut looking like a boy. I’d stand out too much. After work, I’d stopped by this wig shop over on 5th and picked up a blonde bob for a decent price. After some rollers and more than a few bobby pins, it was a dead ringer for a hairstyle from the era, with tight curls pinned back away from my face.

  On the other hand, the dress was anything but new. I’d found it in a thrift shop about a year ago and had been saving it for a moment just like this. The sleeves are short, almost touching the edge of my shoulder and leading into a clasp around my neck. It only connects to the dress on the sides underneath my arms. With the material of the dress cinched tight around my waist, it gives my boobs an extra lift making the naked skin between it and the clasp at my neck stand out even more. Then it drops into a flair around my belly button, falling to just under my knee. At first glance, it looks solid black, but as I move around, the white polka dots between the bottom folds peek out. Paired with my Mary Jane heels that have been around the block or two, I’d say I’m pulling this look off nicely.

  I grab my jacket that’s already packed with all the things I need and head out into the hall. I want to surprise the guys because I’m pretty sure I’ve beat them getting ready. Imagine my surprise when I find myself face to face with the both of them when I crack the door open.

  Ransam looks devilishly handsome in skinny jeans rolled up from the bottom, showing his socks. His tight plain tee has the sleeves rolled up to match the bottom of his pants. All that blonde hair is gelled back on his head, making his blue eyes stand out on his face.

  As my gaze turns to Orsam, I let out a quiet chuckle. “You’re such a soc.”

  His eyes narrow, and Ransam hides his smile behind his hand as his brother asks, “What’s that?”

  “It’s a rich preppy kid,” I answer, still grinning.

  He runs a hand down his sweater vest and tie before tucking the hand into the pocket of his pressed slacks. “Don’t be jealous. I know I make this shit look good.”

  “Damn right, you do,” I answer easily, forcing a full smirk to his lips.

  With the boys ready to go, I lead us down the hall toward the stairs. We’re down on the bottom floor when, over my shoulder, I tell them, “Meet you guys over there.”

  Orsam laughs, “And just how in the Sam Hill do you think you’re going to be riding your bike in that dress?”

  “Is that a challenge?” I ask.

  “Don’t do it, dude,” Ransam warns. Then to me, “Please just ride with us tonight, Su. The cab is already down there waiting on us.”

  “Cab?” I throw back him. “Why aren’t you just driving?”

  “Because we plan on cutting loose just like you said,” Orsam replies, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “If that entails drinking at this thing, then I don’t want to leave my car sitting outside the place like last time.”

  “Fine,” I growl, pushing open the door. The cab sits right out front just like Ransam said. When I come up next to the back door, I reach for the door handle. “This better not come back to bite me in the ass.”

  Ransam rushes to the other side, leaving Orsam at my neck. “Maybe you’ll be finding your own ride home tonight with someone that will bite you in the ass.”

  I snort as I slide in next to his brother. There’s no way I’m going anywhere with anyone but the two guys sitting on either side of me. I’ve never told them the story of why I was on the run, and I’ve never asked why two grown men with respectable jobs share a shitty apartment the size of a sardine can. We all have our secrets, and I don’t want to offer mine to learn theirs.

  By the time we reach the community center, the party is in full swing. If Orsam was right about no one but weirdos showing up, then there must be a hell of a lot of weirdos in this city because the place is packed. We pay a five-dollar cover charge at the door where they hand us a pamphlet on joining their 50’s club. Guess I should’ve read the flyer a little better before I jumped the gun and brought us here. I didn’t even realize it was being hosted by a certain group. Orsam may have been a little right, but I’ll never tell him that.

  The guys branch off in separate directions as soon as we’re inside. It’s how we roll. They show up with me but don’t hover. After a couple hours, if shit gets boring, then we reconvene and bounce. One of the last times where we left Orsam to the tail-obsessed lady, that was just us being mean. We totally could’ve saved him from that, but we didn’t want to. And neither of us will ever tell him that either. Karma’s going to be a bitch when she strikes, but I’ll accept it.

  I weave my way into the room, keeping an eye out for my companions. Orsam has already found his way over to a row of single ladies sitting against the wall. One of them stares up at him with a smile that lights her pretty face. Huffing a short laugh, my eyes search for Ransam. I find him over by the refreshments table. A girl stands next to him, trying to draw his attention. He catches my eye and winks once. Shaking my head with a grin, I turn back to the dancing bodies now doing the mashed potato.

  “If I may be so forward, you’re beautiful, but absolutely stunning when you smile,” a stranger says from my side.

  Cutting my eyes over to him, I appreciate the smooth James Dean look he has about him. Dressed similarly to Ransam with the addition of a worn leather jacket, he’s by far one of the most good-looking guys here. His skin is a pale creamy color, and it brings out the jet black hair gelled back on his head. The green almond-shaped eyes seem kind as they watch me appreciatively while waiting for a reply.

  “Has that line been working for you tonight?” I ask cheekily.

  One side of his lips pull up, taking the cheek with it. “I don’t know. You tell me since you’re the only one I’ve said it to.”

  My eyebrow arches. “You know I’m not naïve enough to believe that, right?”

  He rubs a hooked finger across his lips, hiding the smile underneath. “Well, I can’t say I’d hold that against you, but I might still ask you to dance.”

  “Then what are you waiting for?” I tease, taking his offered elbow.

  I wasn’t lying when I told the guys earlier that I won’t be going home with anyone tonight. However, that in no way means I won’t be having fun.
Letting the cute stranger tow me out onto the dance floor, we spend the next little while moving our bodies around. Me trying to figure out some of the dance moves, while he looks like a professional with every step.

  “You’re making me look like a two left feet Lisa out here,” I tell him around huffs of air. “If I’d known you were the king of all these dances, my answer may have been different.”

  He beams a smile at me. “I may have forgotten to mention that I’m the president of the club hosting the party tonight.”

  My head tilts back with a laugh before I mumble, “You definitely left out that little detail.”

  When he opens his mouth to speak again, a person over his shoulder catches my eye. I’m not sure if it’s because I became so acutely aware of the brothers or if I’ve waited so long for them to find me, but Abraham’s side profile makes my heart stutter in my chest.

  “Are you okay?” the dancing stranger asks.

  The air seems to have been sucked from my lungs at the same time my feet stop moving as I try to find that tall, broad profile that couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else.

  “I’ve got to go. Thanks for the dance,” I tell him without taking my eyes from the crowd.

  “Trenton,” he announces, letting the word fill the space between us.

  My heart stops completely.

  “What?” I whisper.

  His hand reaches out for mine, but I take a step back, and it falls back to his side.

  “My name is Trenton,” he supplies. “I was thinking just in case you ever wanted to find me again.”

  At my open mouth and rapid breathing, he adds, “Or not, I guess.”

  Before I can apologize or try to make things right, he smiles at me and walks away. There’s no time to fix the misunderstanding. If there’s one thing I don’t believe in, it’s coincidences. Thinking I saw Aric yesterday, now Abraham, I know it’s time to move on. Whether it’s my mind playing tricks on me or not, I’m not risking it.

  A frenzy of nerves on the inside, I try not to show it as I weave through the crowd. I find Ransam talking to a group of people. Touching him lightly on the elbow, I get his full attention. He apologizes and excuses himself from the group to step away with me.

  “I’m leaving,” I tell him, scarcely able to contain the panic taking over my chest.

  No questions asked, he nods with his reply, “Okay, let me find Orsam and we’ll get out of here.”

  Giving him a grim smile, I sigh. “Don’t worry about it, Ransam. I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  His eye narrows as if he can tell that I’m thanking him for more than the offer.

  “Wait for us, Su. Don’t leave,” he pleads.

  I dip my chin in understanding, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to listen. As soon as he steps away to go find his brother, I take off toward the door as fast as my Mary Janes will carry me. I’m gasping in the night air before I remember that I didn’t ride my bike.

  “Shit,” I curse soundly, stomping a foot down on the pavement.

  “Forget you didn’t drive, witch?” Orsam’s voice teases behind me. “That was a cute little tantrum, though. The foot stomp thing suits you in that get up.”

  “You’re an eel,” I growl at him.

  The brothers crack up at my poor excuse for name calling, and I don’t blame them. It was just the first thing that popped into my head. However, the sound of their chuckles has made the panic subside enough for me to be able to breathe. Before any of us can speak again, a yellow taxi pulls to the curb in front of us.

  It isn’t until I’m squished between the two of them in the backseat that I apologize, “I’m sorry I made you guys leave early.”

  “Yeah, that did kind of suck after you dragged me out here to begin with,” Orsam replies.

  Ransam reaches across me to backhand his brother on the chest before flicking his eyes down to me. “Don’t let him play you. He got that girl’s number, so no worries. Are you okay? You looked like you’d seen a ghost in there.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see Orsam nod at the first part of Ransam’s statement then twists his head to glance at me by the end of it. Options weighed, I’ve already decided it’s time to pack up and move on, and unfortunately, that’s going to mean leaving my best friends behind. It won’t be the first time, but it doesn’t mean it’s going to hurt any less. So, I decide to give them a small piece of me before I go.

  “You guys know I moved here out of necessity, right? Doesn’t take a genius to figure out I was running from something, or it’s more of a who, really,” I murmur to them.

  Staring straight ahead, I can feel when their eyes find each other over my head. It momentarily makes my stomach feel queasy like they have a secret of their own, but I chalk it up to nerves from the story.

  They stay silent, and I keep going, “There’s a very powerful man out there who would love nothing more than to find me, and I can’t let that happen.”

  “Why?” Ransam asks quietly, knowing better than to inquire about the who.

  There’s no way they can know the entire story. No one can. Some secrets are best taken to the grave as an old woman rather than blabbing and seeing that grave earlier than planned.

  I give them what I can, sharing, “Let’s just say, he’s a bad man. Does a lot of immoral and illegal things and doesn’t care if they involve children.”

  Orsam stiffens against my side but keeps his mouth shut to let me continue.

  “He raised some powerful sons to fill his shoes when he eventually takes his dirt nap.” I suck in a hard breath before saying, “I’m pretty sure they’ve found me.”

  “What makes you think that?” Ransam asks.

  I glance at him, getting flashes of his curious face as we pass under streetlights. “I thought I saw one of them yesterday on the beach. He was really far away, and I couldn’t see him that well. I let it pass for paranoia, but tonight I could’ve sworn I saw another one of them in the dancing crowd. Then the cute beau I was dancing with said something that could be pure coincidence. If I believed in them, which I don’t. It’s clearly a sign from the universe, and I’m not going to ignore it.”

  “So, you’re telling us, without telling us, goodbye?” Orsam asks, his voice deeper than usual.

  Turning my attention to him, my smile is as pathetic as his frown is sad. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything at all. Might have been easier. Too late now to take it back, so I dip my chin once in reply.

  A hard puff of air slips through his lips as I turn back towards the front, just in time to see Ransam’s head flick towards his window. His brother’s does the same after a few seconds.

  “Can you give us one more weekend?” he asks, refusing to look at me.

  Ransam’s voice sounds hopeful as he adds, “Yeah, don’t forget we’ve got tickets to the Rock It Downtown Festival tomorrow.”

  I was planning on sticking close until the day after the concert anyway.

  “Sure,” I tell them instead, and their bodies immediately relax on either side of me.

  We ride the last few minutes all lost in our own thoughts. When we pull up outside of our building, I follow Ransam out into the night. A soft misting rain has started to fall, and I tilt my head back to face the sky. I know it’s clinging to my dress as well as the soft wig still covering my head. Pulling the wig off, a cold chill sneaks up my spine as the cool mist starts to seep into my real hair.

  “Are you coming, Su?” Ransam turns around to ask at the door.

  I can’t help the smile that pulls my lips up. “On my way.”

  I wasn’t lying when I told the guys I’d give them until the weekend, but staying cooped up in my tiny little apartment with insomnia would legit drive me to the brink of insanity. We came home from the party a few hours ago, and after a quick shower and half an hour of trying to fall asleep to no avail, I’ve finally given up on it. Folding my bed into the wall, I’ve been pacing the floor ever since, memories flooding my mind unwillingly.

  B
ack when I still had Property of Trenton stamped invisibly across my forehead, I never thought I’d try and escape. The man was powerful and could more than likely move mountains. I knew for a fact he could, and would, kill people for crossing him.

  What’s sad is, I had a pretty good childhood growing up in the Trenton house. He was filthy rich and made sure no one in his house ever wanted for anything. That was back before I started seeing how he made his money.

  Anderson is his only true born son, so when I came into the picture around five years old, he already had a good seven years on me. We were the first of the Trenton children. Even though his dad claims to have adopted me, Anderson and I never felt like brother and sister. We were always friends, and best of, when it was just us.

  Then everything changed. Mrs. Trenton was never around much, but Anderson blamed her when things started getting weird. He’d told me that she left, and it made his dad lose his shit. It wasn’t until much later that I found out Trenton had killed his wife while he made Anderson watch.

  After she disappeared, Trenton started gathering kids like a little boy at a candy shop. First Abraham, Anderson’s blood cousin on his mom’s side. He’s only two years younger than Anderson, and they’d grown up together their entire lives. His parents died in a private plane crash right before he came to live with us. As kids, we hadn’t expected there to be foul play involved, especially from the man who was supposed to be their blood kin. Now, as an adult, I can see how naïve we truly were.

  Then came Alek and Aric, the only real brothers out of the six Trenton boys. They’re both from the Middle East. Neither one spoke very good English, but their dark hair and tanned skin, in combination with their deep accents, were like a curious beacon to us three pre-existing Trenton children. Alek falls between Anderson and Abraham’s age, but Aric is closer to mine with only two years separating us. For years we wondered just how they’d ended up in Trenton’s grasp. It wasn’t until Aric got drunk one night that he finally admitted to us that their dad had been murdered in their home at a business meeting with Trenton. The bastard had given their mom the option of turning them over to him, or he’d shoot her and take them anyway. Aric told us that Alek hadn’t given her the choice, dragging his brother out of the house as his mother dropped to her knees, sobbing in the doorway. That day has only been mentioned that once over the years.