by Ruby Vincent
I meant that in so many more ways than one.
I had allowed myself to believe, as the days went past, that the Merchants would give up on me. Then two plates of lobster and beef later, and everything changed.
Someone bumped into me, scooting me closer to the red metal fence. On its other side, looming over the surrounding buildings was a fire station.
I swept the street.
This part of Cinco was boringly named North Quay. It backed onto the main port bringing in cargo ships and cruise lines. This particular slice of the neighborhood was active. Kitschy bars and little craft shops lined up on both sides surrounding the fire station. Young, attractive people joked and traded conversation as they popped into the cafes.
Why did Sinjin tell me to come here? I turned my head to the lone, quiet structure. What awaited me inside?
Go in and find out. My nails cut tracks in my palms. There was never another choice with Gianna and Dad at risk. The only two people I have left in this world. The Merchants found what was priceless to me and traded to devastating effect.
I pushed on the gate and it swung open easily.
Those bastards are well-named.
A fire station in the middle of a city is a simple, no-nonsense space. An enclosed parking lot held four cars each more nondescript than the last. I walked up to large red doors and raised my hand to knock. I thought better of it and tried the knob.
They’re very trusting, I thought as I stepped into the dim entry.
“Hello?”
“Come up.”
I recognized the voice as Cash’s—he could not be confused—but I didn’t see the man that went with it.
I stepped further in, passing a lone door, and met with a staircase. Peering up, I spotted a pair of legs go past.
“What am I doing here?” I called.
Nothing.
“Hello? Hunt?”
“The name’s Cash,” came the dry reply.
“What do you want with me, Cash?”
“Answered that question already.”
I took a step back. “I won’t work for you.”
“You haven’t heard the offer yet.” Sinjin’s voice floated down the staircase. “At least listen to the pitch.”
“I—”
A faint click sounded behind me. Realizing what it was, I flew at the door, banging and screaming as the lock denied me.
“Let me out!”
“Not until you hear what we have to say. Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Bunny. They’re serving cheeseburger casserole in celebration of bingo night. It’d be a shame if Daddy Red didn’t make it to the first course.”
I slapped the frosted windowpane. “You’re not going to touch my dad!”
“Absolutely not... as long as you walk up the fucking stairs.”
Breathing hard, the visions of what I’d do to Sinjin Bellisario assaulted my mind. Rip those blue strands from his skull. Light that trimmed beard on fire. Whale on him until I pounded this threat out of my life.
Straightening, I released the doorknob and climbed the stairs. Echoing footfalls secured the nails in my coffin. One by one by one.
My head crested the top, and the whole of the converted station unveiled before me. Brows snapping together, I stopped on the third to last step, working to reconcile what I pictured with the reality.
It was spotless.
Gleaming hardwood floors held the reflection of the four men sitting on the stools lining a steel table. On the far side of the room, three big windows cast light on brown leather couches and the big screen they sat in front of.
There were no plants. There were no pictures or paintings on the brick walls. The home—for now I realized it was their home—boasted little décor. A typical bachelor pad if not for the mentioned fact that I had never been anywhere so clean.
A faint scent of bleach filled the room like potpourri. I didn’t even see flecks of dust floating in the air.
Sinjin pointed to the stool in the middle of the room. “Sit.”
I hesitated, but only for a moment. There was no plastic on the floor. The men looked to be relaxed and weapon-free. Considering they had two opportunities to kill or assault me and didn’t take it, I was relatively assured that wasn’t what I was here for.
Taking the last few steps up, I got a clear look at the kitchen on my left. In that glance, the personality of these men began to unfold. You can tell just about everything you need to know about a person from their kitchen.
Loving, proud parents posted their kid’s scribbled drawings and reports to see every morning as they reached for the milk. Parents with a bare fridge either weren’t too loving and proud, or their kid was no Einstein. Busy people who cared about taste had a toaster oven. Busy people who shoved the nearest thing in their mouth on their way out of the door, did not.
I scanned the toaster oven, espresso machine, fridge without so much as a magnet, and an empty sink that had been wiped clean.
Obsessive workaholics that care about nothing and no one, and never deny themselves an indulgence.
This was the kitchen of a home you needed to leave.
Immediately.
I did not. Crossing the distance, I sat on the stool, facing the four silent men.
“Well?” I prompted when the quiet began to itch. “You’ve lured me here with threats and violence. You wanted me that badly. Tell me what for. What’s the job?”
Sinjin swept out a hand. “This is the job.”
“Excuse me?”
“We’ve been looking to fill this position for a while.” He gestured at Brutal. “My friend here hates mess like it killed his mother. Everything has to be clean and in its place even if it holds us up when we have matters to attend to.”
I looked between the two of them. “And?”
“It’s becoming inconvenient.” Sinjin lifted his tightly fitted gray shirt and pointed to a scar on his torso. “I got this when I exploded the pasta sauce in the microwave and refused to clean it up.”
“Well, that’s pretty rude,” I said mildly. “Deserved it if you ask me.”
Brutal tilted his head and I thought I glimpsed a grin. Studying his impassive face, I decided I imagined it.
Sinjin didn’t have to tell me he was responsible for this sterile living room. I’d never seen a man as neat and tidy as him. Not a speck of lint graced his black slacks. Leather shoes were polished until they shone, and the shirt buttoned all the way to his neck was a blinding white. You could say his features were organized too.
Almond-shaped eyes not too close or far apart, Greek nose, and a pair of shapely lips beneath them. It was said those who achieved perfect facial symmetry were the most attractive among us. In Brutal’s case, that was one hundred percent true.
The gorgeous man gazed at me without flinching as Sinjin spoke, and I found myself unable to look away.
“Deserved it or not, I need a few problems off my plate. I’ve already got to deal with the plastic on the floor and gloves on before he beats a bitch, I don’t need to be that bitch every time I leave a plate in the sink.”
“That’s where you make yourself useful,” said Cash. “From now on, you’re doing the cleaning around here.”
The trance broke. I ripped away, goggling at Cash. “I’m doing what now?”
“You’re cleaning.”
“And cooking,” Sinjin added. He rubbed his hands. “I’ve got the lobster tails thawing for you, Bunny. We’ll have that tonight.”
“The job you’re offering me... is cook and housemaid?”
Saying it out loud didn’t help either. The myriad of sick and depraved things they’d try to force me to do, kept me up all night. I didn’t get a wink of sleep preparing for the consequences of refusing to be pimped out, smuggle drugs up my crack, or terrorize the streets in a mask. Hidden in my bag were the pepper spray, spiked key, and pocket knife my dad gave me on my fourteenth birthday. All of that to be told I had to clean a fire station.
“Is thi
s a trick?” I snapped. “You threatened my father and best friend because you want me to clean the floors? What the hell is wrong with you?”
Sinjin lifted his shoulders. “No one knows. The doctors have given up.”
I bristled. “You think this is a joke?”
“We think you’re assuming this job will be easier than it is,” Cash cut in. “Like he said, we’ve wanted someone to take over for a while, but of course, we can’t have just anyone in our place. You know who we are, you have a refreshing resistance to snitching, and it was either we find a use for you, or we kill you.”
Cash dropped that like he was deciding between movie selections. Neither outcome stirred his peaceful dreams.
He propped one elbow on the table, leaning back to spread his V-neck wider and allow his soft-looking chest hair to peek out. “You’ll have to clean this place to Brutal’s standards on a near daily basis—”
“—and deal with his fucking tantrums when the next jar of pasta explodes,” Sinjin finished. “You have no idea how this is going to free up his life, Bunny. He’s wicked excited to have you.”
Wicked excited looked eerily like disinterest on Brutal.
“What are your standards?”
“No point asking him,” Sinjin said, motioning to Mercer. “Brutal only speaks when there’s something worth saying.”
“Really?” Curiosity piqued higher than disgust and irritation. “Is that by choice?”
“Don’t know.” Mercer picked something off the table and handed it to me. “He never said.”
My eyes rounded as I read.
“Dust the lightbulbs? Clean bathroom daily? Soak dishes in a bleach solution every night? Handwash your clothes?!” I cried. “There are five sheets here. This is ridiculous.”
“Don’t forget three meals a day,” Sinjin added. “We’re not going to mess around and act like Brutal won’t make your life a misery until he’s satisfied, so you can name your price.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No,” I repeated. “I’m not naming my price because I’m not taking the job. No.”
Sinjin looked at the guys, pulling a face as he mouthed, “No?”
“No,” I drew out. “I can’t get through a list like this before my shift. On top of the bus ride from North Quay to Waterford to Rockchapel. I’d never sleep.”
“Bunny, you’re saying things that are not problems. You don’t work at that restaurant anymore.” Sinjin delivered that with such a wide smile, the instinct that I received good news almost tugged a smile in response. “Did I also forget to mention this is a live-in position? Your room is ready for you to move in tonight. I hope you like blue.”
Silence spread through the space.
Cash’s smirk. Sinjin’s bordering on insane grin. Brutal’s slow blinks, and Mercer’s preoccupation with something he spotted under his nails. All of it clashed with the information my mind worked to comprehend.
Four homicidal criminals expect me to quit my job, leave my life, move in upstairs, and serve them hand and foot?
“Is killing me and dumping my body in a dumpster still an option?”
Sinjin tossed his head back laughing. “Damn, Bunny, the more I’m around you, the more taken I am. It’s getting to the point you’d have to commit a serious offense for me to get rid of you.”
“Name it.”
“What reason do you have to turn us down? I’ve seen where you live, and where you’re keeping Papa Redgrave. I’m betting the money that could be going toward getting you out of that crack den, is spent keeping your old man comfortable.”
His words struck me through the heart. Sinjin knew so much more than he should.
“I respect that,” he said. “People who don’t look after their blood are a useless waste of skin and bones. But you don’t have to choose, Adeline. Seriously, name your price.”
“You’re not hearing me, Sinjin. Okay, I am struggling to make ends meet,” I admitted. “Even so, I love my job. It’s where my future is. I won’t walk away from it to clean your toilets.”
Grinning, he climbed off the stool. “It’s a shame you’re refusing our kind and generous offer.” Sinjin caressed the neck of the wine bottle that had been behind his back. “I had hoped we toast the conclusion of this Raiden Spencer business and move forward.”
I slowly stood up, putting the stool between us. “Go on. Threaten me some more. That bit is getting old. I was willing to keep quiet if it meant living in peace, but you’re making it clear I don’t get that option either way. So here’s what’s going to happen”—I mirrored that grin—“you’re going to unlock the front door, I’ll walk out of it, and the five of us will never see each other again.”
He hummed. “And if that doesn’t happen?”
“My dad hits send on a lengthy email I wrote CCPD, detailing the night I saw four men beat and kill Raiden Spencer. It’s complete with your names, descriptions, and the address you gave me which—oops—turned out to be where you live.” I tsked. “If I’m not sitting down to enjoy that cheeseburger casserole with him in two hours, you’ll have the cops here in three. Visiting hours for non-family members ended forty-five minutes ago. You can try to go after him, but you wouldn’t get through the gates until it was far too late.”
Mercer wasn’t picking at his nails anymore. He looked to Cash, who half rose out of his seat as if preparing to test the theory he couldn’t get to my father in time.
“Sinjin,” Cash barked.
His smile was nowhere to be found. Sinjin studied me through hooded eyes, knuckles whitening around the bottle. “Calm down, C. Adeline is going to rethink this current course of action and make a better decision.”
“What I’m going to do is walk out the door and you’ll never have to worry about me again. I won’t be your overpaid prisoner and you’re not hurting to be an actual prisoner. This way, everyone gets what they want.”
“I’m not a man concerned with everyone getting what they want.” Sinjin closed the distance between us. My grip was firm on the stool, though his hands were empty. He got in my face, flattening his nose on mine. “Only me.”
Stand your ground, I told my jackhammering heart. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done it already.
My tongue darted out to lick chapped lips, and skimmed over his in the process. I jerked back. “What a coincidence.” I was proud of my voice for remaining steady. “I don’t give a fuck if you get what you want either. That said, you still can. All you have to do is open the door.”
A swirling torrent raged in his eyes, battering my surety that he wouldn’t kill me. Sinjin looked like he wanted nothing more than to hurt me. To loom over me as blood and wine spread over the plastic.
“Open the door.”
“Fine.”
“What?” Now Cash was on his feet. “I didn’t want her here in the first place, but now it’s a different situation. She can’t make threats like that and then go walking free.”
“Maybe next time you’ll check the bathroom before you murder someone.”
Cash bared his teeth. “There’s no one in ours.”
“Whoa.” Sinjin put his hands up between us. “Easy. I said the lady can go and she can. Brutal, show her to the door.”
“I don’t need an escort.”
Brutal acted like he didn’t hear me. Dusting imaginary lint off his coat, he bore down on me and the resounding screams of a beaten Raiden Spencer forced me to move to keep the distance between us.
At least he doesn’t have his backpack.
I clambered down the steps, sensing him behind me. The red exit made shape and sang that my freedom from the Merchants was on the other side. The cute couples, cafes, fashionable young moms, and artisan beer that existed side by side with their orderly house of pain. At least on that side, I was broke, desperate, and... safe.
“You didn’t really want me here, did you?” I heard him behind me, descending the stairs. “It’s not just the things you have to do. It’s t
he knowledge they’re being done correctly. And the only person you can trust to get it right is you.”
“What would you know about it?”
I jumped, whirling around on him. There was no reason I should have formed ideas about his voice, and still the silvery sotto voce surprised me. Reminded me of the smooth jazz radio host my dad would play on the long drives to get me to sleep.
“I know your friends up there think they’re helping when what they’re really doing is introducing another mess for you to sweep up behind. You’re happy to see the back of me, so remember that in case any of them get the idea to come after me. I saved you a headache. You owe me.”
The twist of his lips that time, I did not mistake. “Do I?” he asked, smiling.
I dropped my voice automatically. I got the impression that to hear him speak was a rarity. One I didn’t want to share with those upstairs.
“Yes. This is what’s best. The four of you don’t want someone you can’t fully trust in your home, and I want nothing to do with you period. So cool that rage burning in Sinjin’s and Cash’s eyes”—I swept aside—“and open the door.”
Brutal closed the final step, and grabbed me. I screamed as he threw me over his shoulder, securing my waist.
“What are you doing?!” I pounded his back. “Put me down.”
Brutal threw open a door, but not the one that led outside. I was swallowed by darkness, carried down into a sub-basement. The last thing I saw before the door slammed shut was the polished tips of Sinjin’s shoes.
“Brutal, or whatever the fuck your name is, let me go now!” Clasping my fists together, I struck the small of his back, ripping a grunt out of him. “My father will send that email. You’ll be cleaning up after your new cellmate/boyfriend, Lo Ryder, in the next twenty-four hours, if you don’t put me down!”
Brutal laughed without reservation, shaking his whole body and the woman riding on top. Light flicked on, and my cries died in my throat.
The bright, clean space I left behind was night and day to the room I was brought into, and I meant that in every way.
It was the knives I saw first.
Shaped metal of various shapes and sizes hung on the wall with white outlines to mark their spots. From cleavers to butcher knives to a collection of swords.