Identity

by Brandy Slaven

  I didn’t even think to leave a note or anything for Mike. I’m sure the guys will let him know as much as they possibly can. I hate that I won’t be able to help anyone like that for a while, but if I know Mike, he’ll make sure to keep up the business. Even if it’s just for the money in his pocket and not to help people.

  The takeoff turbulence is just background nonsense as I wallow in my fury at Trenton for having found me. Those tears start to dry up instead of rolling down my face. Risking another glance around, I try to make sure no one saw my moment of weakness. Should have known it wouldn’t go completely unnoticed while trapped in a small space with the six men. Both Alek and Atlas’s eyes are on me. The former has enough couth to turn away as our gazes clash. Atlas doesn’t try to hide his stare. I’m the one who has to break contact with him, using my phone as an excuse.

  Letting go of Alejandro, I slip my phone out of the hidden pocket on my jacket. I haven’t even had a chance to unlock it before it’s whipped out of my hand. I don’t bother to fight it because that’s just one of many freedoms I’ll be stripped of soon. But that doesn’t mean I’m nice about it either, giving Anderson the stank eye. Not like it matters, because he’s gone faster than a blink with my phone in his hand. I’d seriously like to beat him over the head with the damn thing, but Alejandro stops me before I can even think about removing my seatbelt.

  Holding out his own phone palm up to me, he shoots me another soft smile as I look at him in surprise. I don’t want to be indebted to any of them, but I will seriously murder Anderson if I’m trapped in this tiny space without some form of a distraction.

  Taking the offered phone, I mumble a quiet thanks to Alejandro, who says nothing in return. He may acknowledge with a nod or something of the sort, but my head is already turned away from him. Plugging in the stolen earbuds, I realize Alejandro never unlocked the screen for me. When I twist my head back towards him, I find him with his head against the seat and his eyes closed.

  My face flames as a thought hits me. He didn’t unlock it on purpose. Not to embarrass me or to make me have to ask him. No, it’s because he never changed it. The phone is the latest, most expensive one on the market, but the password moved with the upgrades. Sure enough, I put in my birthday, and my heart jumps into my throat. Staring back at me from the home screen is the last picture Alejandro and I ever took together. One of those rare moments of happiness in the Trenton house celebrating my last birthday with them. He’d pulled me into his lap, and the others had smeared cake on my face before he snapped the shot of us together. That was right before I’d wiped a streak of it across his cheek with my nose. Our lips had almost touched right there in front of his brothers. The other five who had already had theirs on me at one point or another too. I’ve lived that moment for the past couple of years, and the only thing I’d take back is not kissing him.

  Too late for all of that now, though. I’m not going to be something Trenton can hold over any of their heads. Best to keep my distance.

  Then why do you have to keep reminding yourself of that?

  STFU, Susan!

  I can almost swear I hear a wicked villainous laugh in the back of my mind as I close my eyes, ignoring the knowing look Atlas sends me. Leaning my head back the way Alejandro did, I let his smooth Latin music lull me to sleep.

  In what feels like only minutes later, someone is shaking me awake. My hand comes up to karate chop the hell out of whoever had the audacity to come into my apartment. More than one voice has my eyes popping open in a panic as I jump up, successfully smashing the back of my head on the wall. I groan as I reach out to rub the sore spot as all of it slowly comes back to me. I’m on an airplane with the Trenton brothers.

  “Probably going to have a knot for that one,” Alek says reaching out to brush his fingertips across the tender spot. The colorful twine bracelets around his wrist flash in the light.

  I smack his hand away. “It’s fine.”

  His eyes slightly narrow but don’t show any hurt in them. I watch him drop his hands into his pockets as he turns to follow the others toward the door. Atlas hangs back, which isn’t surprising.

  Unhooking the headphones, I roll them up and do a quick stash in one of my inner jacket pockets before trying to hand Alejandro his phone back. “Thanks.”

  He holds his palms up as if in surrender. “Keep it for now. I’ll get it back later.”

  Things are going to undoubtedly get worse from here on out, and he knows I need this little bit of freedom. The compassion and understanding in that one moment threatens to bring those ridiculous tears back. I let my nails bite into my palms as a distraction from the despair I can feel already eating at my soul.

  Snatching my bag out from under my chair, I toss it over my shoulder before leading the three of us out the open door and down to the waiting limo. Ostentatious as ever. I roll my eyes before ducking my head to crawl inside. We’re the last to get down here, so my seating options are limited since they didn’t save us a bench for ourselves. Plopping down beside Abraham and dropping my bag at my feet, I watch Alejandro politely choose the open space next to Aric, leaving Atlas the place beside me. This also means I’m stuck directly across from Alek and a still fired up Anderson. One would think having hours to let shit calm down would’ve simmered that anger down to nothing by now. But, nope. If anything, he looks even more pissed than before as he scowls at me across the car.

  I just roll my eyes at him and turn my attention out the window. If I thought being stuck on a plane with the six of them was bad, this is absolutely the worst. Both Abraham and Atlas’s thighs brush against mine as we make turns, sending little pinpricks of sensations where we touch. Those nice, costly slacks rubbing against my faded jeans.

  None of them speak, much like the past bit of time since they found me. It was perfectly agreeable at first, but now it’s starting to drive me a little insane. I’ve never known Aric and Abraham to stop talking for more than a few minutes at a time. It’s almost like they’re keeping a secret, and I’m finding out something new about myself. Even after the distance that I, myself put between us, I don’t like knowing they have something they aren’t telling me. I pick at my fingernails as I try to ignore the conflicting emotions at war inside of me.

  For the first little while it’s a good distraction, too. It’s not until I take a quick look out the window and see things are starting to look familiar that panic starts rising in my chest. I knew this was coming. Yet, the idea isn’t as frightening as the moment itself. I tuck my hands beneath my armpits to keep from reaching for the two men at my sides. I’m not allowed to use them as a crutch for this. I’ve made my bed, now I’ve got to lay in it.

  Keeping my eyes trained on the floor of the space between the seven of us, I study their variety of shoe tastes without absorbing any of the information. My heart is too busy trying to jump out of my chest for my brain to try to comprehend anything.

  The pounding gets ten times worse as the limo rolls to a stop. I feel like I’m going to puke as the guys start piling out of the car one after the other. I’m seriously going to be sick. It’s all I can do to keep my gag reflex in check. When it’s finally my turn, I try to swallow all of those emotions down into the deepest hidden part of me that no one will ever be able to find. Then I steel my nerves and step out into the fading sunlight to face the house that’s haunted my dreams for years.

  I admit to myself, I’m shocked Trenton decided not to greet us at the door. Especially since I'm his prized animal who won all the ribbons then ran away from home, ditching that life of fame and glory. Of course, his idea of such widely varies from my own.

  As it is, the seven of us walk into the empty foyer of the mansion. None of the maids nor even Nigel, the butler, greet us. It’s an eerie silence. One so profound, I don’t bother breaking it to voice my questions.

  Following in procession behind the others to the stairs, my eyes wander on their own accord. The place looks almost exactly the same. A dark themed den sits off
to the left of the stairs. Makes me do a small happy dance on the inside to see that the hideous painting of Trenton is gone from the top of the mantle. That stupid thing gave me nightmares growing up. To this day, I never got up the courage to ask him if he did in fact kill all of the lions lying in pools of their own blood around him in the photo, or if it was just another one of those intimidation tactics he’s so well known for. I’d vote probably the latter, considering that vile painting was the first thing any guest would see past the door.

  Off to the right is the dining room, which hasn’t changed a bit. The walnut wood table looking almost out of place with the rest of the room being so modern, including the bright crystal chandelier that hangs right above it. If we keep on walking past the stairs, I know we’ll come to the one place in this house that I will have to be forced to enter again. Trenton’s study. Just past that doorway is the kitchen. After all I’ve seen, it’s a safe bet to say it’s still the same.

  “Are you still tired?” Abraham asks at my shoulder. “Or hungry, maybe? It’s going to be another hour or so before dinner probably, but we can whip up a snack in the kitchen if you want.”

  I heft my bag on my shoulder and ignore him. It makes me feel like a douche hole for doing it, but I don’t want him or any of the others being nice to me right now. Not while I’m managing to keep all my ducks in a row. One small slip and it’s adios little muchachos.

  Ignoring their siren voices trying to lead me back down to our doom, I take the stairs up at a sprint. If there’s one thing in this house that hasn’t changed, it’ll be where my room is. Trenton was always adamant about giving me, the only little princess, the tower room.

  I race up another short set of stairs to the door of my prison. Heavy footsteps follow me up, but I don’t wait to find out who they belong to. I’ve barely got the door open and squeezed myself through the crack before I slam it behind me, engaging the lock. If any of them really want inside, it wouldn’t take much to break that stupid handle. That’s if they don’t just try unlocking it first, because I’m sure that’d be easier.

  With my back still against the wall and my eyes closed, I can’t seem to suck enough air down into my lungs. That rolling sensation hits my stomach again, and it’s got me racing across the room to the en-suite bathroom. Doing the only thing it knows how, my stomach purges the darkness I seem to have swallowed since walking back into this house. All things considered, though, I can’t remember the last time I ate anything, so next to nothing comes out.

  As soon as that dramatic fiasco is finished, I stalk back out into the room that made me sick on sight. In a flash, I’ve dropped my bag to the floor and am rushing across the floor to the bed. I rip the canopy off the four posts before throwing it off to the side. The comforter is next. Then the puke pink satin sheets join the growing pile. Nothing in this room has changed at all. It’s been clean, but otherwise untouched. Almost as if Trenton knew he’d be getting me back all along. Well, fuck him. And fuck his stupid head games. I’ll be the villain in his kingdom of mindless soldiers, and pink was never a very good color for one.

  After I’m finished with the bed, I rip the old poster off the walls of all the places I’d always dreamed of visiting but never would while stuck under Trenton’s thumb. Paris. Hawaii. Sydney. They all go in the pile of junk I’d love nothing more than to set on fire. Unfortunately, I refuse to let any of the guys suffer the consequences for my temper tantrum because there’s no doubt they’ll be punished if I set the house ablaze.

  Stripping the designer clothes and shoes from the closet next, they’re thrown on top of the stack. All of this shit is from years ago. That’s how arrogant that asshole is, thinking I’d still be able to wear any of this. Not in this lifetime or the next hundred.

  Confident there’s nothing else left in the room that needs to go, other than the old polaroids of me and the guys on the wall, I fling open the balcony doors so hard they crash against the wall. I gather as much as I can in one armful before marching over to the rail and tossing every bit of it over the rail with a defiant scream. It takes three trips to get it all, and the last one hits me so hard that I feel it down to my soul.

  I retreat until my back collides with the wall, letting it slide me down into a sitting position. Then the tears start to fall. The ones I’ve been fighting so hard against and couldn’t let anyone see. Bunching my knees, I rest my elbows on them and catch my head in my palms. Tears are a sign of weakness. I’ll never ever let Trenton see me cry again, so I need to get them all out before I have to face him.

  Deep sobs rack my chest for the gods only know how long before I start pulling myself together. Staring out over the trees of the yard, I can feel the nothingness starting to grow inside of me. That dark place we all have that no one wants to bring attention to. The one that allows us to become numb to bad things around us. One in the same for victims as much as the murderers, rapists, or extremists. The difference being how we handle it. People aren’t born wanting to do bad things. It’s all a matter of taming that dark beast that resides in each of our poor unfortunate souls.

  “Is that all you’ve got?” Aric’s voice asks from below, startling me.

  I should’ve known he’d be there. “I’m out of shit to throw, so yeah, I’d say so.”

  “There’s always the mattress,” he states as though he’s seriously trying to help me find more stuff. “And the lamps. That ridiculous desktop you never would let any of us replace for you. Or that ancient boombox and all those horrid cassette tapes in your closet.”

  His words pull a laugh from lips before I can stop it. “Leave the boombox out of this. How many times have you been in my room since I left to remember that crap?”

  “More than enough,” he replies sadly before deflecting. “It’s not like anyone could ever forget that hideous archaic hunk of junk anyway.”

  I close my eyes as I let my head fall back against the wall and a smile takes over my face, “Never heard you complaining the nights you snuck into my room.”

  When he and Alek had first gotten here, Aric was aloof and didn’t talk to any of us. Even Alejandro who came in speaking no English was more personable than him. It didn’t take me long to figure out he spent the majority of his time on his balcony underneath mine. We spent hours upon hours of sleepless nights out here discussing anything and everything. Then the first night he monkey climbed up to me, I thought I was going to die of a heart attack. Not just at the risk of falling the almost three stories to the ground, but if any of Trenton’s goons would’ve seen him, it would’ve been bad. They’re trained to shoot first and ask questions later. Speaking of which, I haven’t seen any of them lurking around either.

  Before I can ask him about it, a chuckle echoes up to me. “Those were some good times, yeah?”

  “The best,” I tell him without thinking about it.

  Silence falls between us for a few minutes before he breaks it, “Is it so bad being back here with us?”

  “It’s not that at all, Ric, and you know it,” I answer. “Growing up, you think your dad can reach the stars. Especially since we were raised with Trenton. As you get older, you start to see the truth of things, and I didn’t want to be a part of that. And, I never will. No matter how hard he pushes.”

  Or who he sells my body to.

  “Running and hiding was my only option. We know better than anyone, he doesn’t let anyone just walk away from him,” I add.

  “I would’ve went with you,” he says so quietly I almost don’t catch it.

  Tears slip through my closed lids, but they’re for a different reason this time. I have to wait a moment to speak so that he doesn’t hear them in my voice. “I couldn’t do that to you, or to Alek. If we’d have been caught, Trenton would’ve killed one of us to prove a point to the other. Besides, I’m no better than him. Like father, like daughter.”

  “No,” he barks. “You’re nothing like him. You are the only person other than Alek who made me feel at peace with how my life tu
rned out. When you left, it felt like I’d never be whole again.”

  Now that the floodgates have been opened, there’s no shutting off the tears, and his confession isn’t helping any. I’m barely keeping control of the sobs trying to rise to the surface again.

  “I love you, Su,” he adds. “I’ve loved you since before I knew what that word meant. I swore that if we could ever convince you to come home, I’d prove it to you and hopefully you wouldn’t go running off into the night again.”

  Something in the way he phrases his words prickles the spot on the back of my neck, but it’s quickly forgotten as his head pops up at the bottom of the railing beside me.

  “May I come up?” he asks, giving me the choice.

  I nod as quickly as I did the first time, still fearing for his safety. It proves to hold no merit when he uses his arm strength to lift himself high enough to hook his foot between the rails and hoist himself over the rest of the way.

  Now staring up at his face, I ask, “When did you get so good at that?”

  Bright white teeth flash back at me with his smile. “You’ve been gone for quite some time. There’s a lot of things I’m better at now.”

  The innuendo in there makes my belly do a flip. I’m surprised I don’t feel a bit of jealousy at how he got so good at those things. I’d left him, so it’s only right for him to move on and try to be happy. However, he’s in front of me now, not someone else.

  I reach out a hand for him to help me up. He takes it gently and tugs me to my feet. I’ve barely gotten my balance before Aric’s chest collides with mine and he’s pushing me against the wall, smashing our lips together. A small moan of air leaves my lungs when my lips part. Aric takes full advantage, sweeping his tongue into my mouth and making me weak in the knees.