She's gaunt. Her eyes are black and her skin is clammy and gray.
In her hand she has a pistol, aimed at us.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"Why, I'm Mason's wife."
I swallow hard.
"Mason's dead."
"Yes, because you killed him."
"He killed himself, and he killed his daught—!"
Axle puts a gentle hand on my elbow and holds me back. I calm down.
"Smart man," says the woman, "I'm the one holding the gun. Sit, sit. I want to tell you all about the hell you've put me through. Isn't that what people do after such a hunt? That's how I've seen it in the movies. The bad guy always tells his story in the end. It's so...poetic." She waves the gun wistfully as she speaks.
I notice how much her hand trembles on it.
"Sit!" She's suddenly impatient.
I look over at Axle and he nods. We move over to two one-seaters across from her. Axle takes his keys and phone from his pockets, slowly, and sits. I sit as well.
She begins. "I'm a web communications expert. You think Mason knew how to hack your mail? Oh, no, honey. That was all me.
"He liked snooping in on you. It made him horny. That and the meth. And I liked him when he was horny. He did all sorts of things to me when he was horny. It's a pity you didn't have any online boyfriends, he would've gotten even hornier if you did. After he'd look at your mails with me, we'd always fuck like animals.
"What I didn't understand was why he continued to stay with you if he loved me so much!
"Then you got pregnant. And that just fucked everything up. I told him to get rid of it, to convince you to get rid of it. He hardly ever listened. So I decided I'd make him a little more dependent on me. That's when I started getting him the glass on his behalf. Lots of it.
"Oooh, that was a game-changer.
"You see, Mason was a casual user before he met you. He was a bit of a scaredy-cat, not enough balls to buy it often, or to buy enough of it.
"So I solved that for him. I started loading up on stash and it was always ready for him when he came over. He never had to worry about buying for himself again.
"And he did become dependent on me, without even realizing it."
The woman inhales deeply.
"Oh, man, and that shit made him hot! If I gave him enough of it, I'd get a good lay from him every time. Sometimes I'd even get my cunt licked, but for that the stuff needed to be real good.
"One day I was desperate. He hadn't fucked me in days. I told him I'd give him an entire week's stash if he fucked me good and hard.
"He was a needy motherfucker that man. What a louse.
"But I loved him. I loved him with all my heart, because I knew that, deep inside, he really loved me more than you.
"So I got him tweaked, got him good and toasted. Then I had him fuck me over and over. And I gave him more crystal, and he fucked me again. I was doing it myself as well. We were fucking like alley cats.
"And an idea came to me then. As if from the Gods themselves!
"And I believe it was from the Gods. Because the Gods talk to me. They do, you know?
"I told him that he had to prove his love for me. I told him that if he really loved me he'd get rid of that abomination in your stomach, your womb.
"He said he couldn't.
"I told him he MUST!"
She sits forward. Sweat trickles down her brow.
"Do you like how I'm dressed?" She points to her dress. "Pretty, huh? I copied you. See? I'm just like you. Miss photographer. Miss precious. Miss fucking congeni-fuckin-ality!
"He said he couldn't do it. That it was a human being. So—
"You have a really nice view from here, you know? Hey, I'M TALKING TO YOU!"
"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, shivering, incredulous.
"Honey..." She's talking to Axle now. "Go on and get me another drink, wouldya?" She holds her glass up to him. "And know that if you pull anything funny, I'll blow little missy's brains out here, you understand?"
He nods, gets up, grabs her glass. "Ice?"
"No thanks, I like it straight. Just like I'm giving it to you now."
"How much more do you have to go of your story?" he asks nonchalantly.
She abruptly stands and points her gun at him! "DON'T YOU FUCK WITH ME, RAMBO, OR I'LL PUMP YOUR BRAINS INTO THAT WALL!"
He sighs, bored. Shrugs. "Suit yourself." He starts walking away.
"Hey, hey! Come back here!"
Axle turns, slowly, easily.
I'm sweating like a pig on a spit. I don't know what the fuck is going on here! What's he doing?
She talks. "What? What is it?"
"Nothing, your story. It's interesting."
"It's too bright in here. What kind of lighting is this? It doesn't go with the carpets. Where's that whiskey?"
Axle turns away.
"Hey!" she shouts. "You were saying something. What was it?"
"I wanted to know how long your story is."
"It's as fucking long as I say it is!"
"Neat? The whiskey."
"Yes, yes, neat. No ice. I like it neat. You're confusing me, Mister. Now where was I? Ahh, yes..." She sits. "You see, before I met Mason, he was a casual user. And mostly designer stuff—E and that crap. Glass was rare. But I got him hooked on the good stuff. I got him to shoot some blow and then got him regularly onto the meth." She inhales deeply. I notice the intense jittering in her eye, and more sweating.
Meth. She must be on it now. I don't know much about meth other than what I've seen on Breaking Bad. But she's on something, that's for sure. It's making her agitated. And tense!
Mason was high as a coot the night he zonked out and blew his head open. The night he almost killed me.
"Fucking is great on that shit, you know. HEY, WHERE'S MY WHISKEY!?"
Axle strolls in, puts it on the table in front of her. Her hand is shaking worse than a rickety subway train. "GET BACK! GET BACK! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT TAKING THIS FUCKING GUN AWAY!"
Axle eases back. He looks so damn relaxed it's unnerving me. Maybe that's his game. Maybe that's why she's losing her train of thought so much.
"I poured myself one," he says. "I hope you don't mind."
He sits back easily on his chair. I see now the minutest twitch in his eye, a nervous flicker. I see him eying his keys. It was the shortest, briefest glance at them. A glance which only a lover could discern in another. And only from this distance. I look at them, too. Normal set of keys. A Texas Longhorns key ring, a few color coded keys.
And then I see it. I see what he was looking at!
My skin goes cold with anticipation. My throat dries up. All of my skin breaks out in a thin sheen of sweat.
It's the remote. The same type of remote he gave me. He has one on his keys as well!
Where's mine? In my bag. Where's my bag? Did he press his? Is that why he took his keys out?
I start fidgeting.
"You were telling us about being a web communications expert. What does that mean exactly?"
"No I wasn't."
"You were. You hacked into Gen's email. That's smart."
"It is smart! I'm smarter than you, bitch! I had Mason marry me in the forest. He made a ring out of grass and put it on my finger and said that we were really the ones who were married. He said I was his real wife! He was rich, you know. Rich! Not money rich. Rich in spirit.
"I can hear the spirits. I hear his own spirit right now. Do you hear it? Listen. Listen carefully. They're talking. They're talking right now. Can you hear them?"
She goes silent.
"Can you? Listen. Listen."
I see her finger tighten up on the trigger. She might end up pulling the damn thing by mistake!
"There are spirits in the river, the walls, the heavens, the ground...
"They talk to me. They told me to kill your baby. They told me to marry Mason. They told me his death was a sign, a sign that I should avenge him and so be returned to him!
&n
bsp; "You're the stupid one. You're the mad one! YOU ARE—"
"Web communications, what is that exactly?" Axle's voice is smooth, interested.
She sits back, starts breathing slowly, takes a deep sip of alcohol. "Ah, that's good. You pour a good whiskey, Mister. What was that?" She talks to something as if it's sitting on her shoulder. "Fuck off! No! No, I want to tell them the story first!" She points the gun just above her shoulder and starts squeezing down on the trigger!
"I'll fire, you bastard!" She's still talking at her shoulder! "I'll fire! Good. Good." She calms down. "Now shut the fuck up!"
She turns to us.
I'm damn near peeing in my panties now!
This woman is fucking I-N-S-A-N-E!
Axle breaks the ice again with a gentle statement. "It takes a connoisseur to notice the flavor. Of the whiskey. Not everyone appreciates whiskey."
"It's true! That's what I told that fucker, Mason!"
"Good call. What's your name?"
"Annabelle. Annabelle Evans-Katz. I have to sign as Evans when travelling because the laws of our country don't recognize a pure wedding such as Mason and I had. A pure wedding, bitch—"
"Annabelle. Hmmmm. I imagine many a boy found that quite alluring."
"What?"
"Your name, it's seductive."
"You're bullshitting me, aren't you?"
"Do I look like I'm bullshitting?"
I stare at Axle. He doesn't look like he's bullshitting. He doesn't look like he's freaking bullshitting at all!
He should be a goddamn actor!
No wonder he picked up so many chicks. He's good. Damn good.
Even I'm starting to believe him.
"You have a great view from here, you know? Mason loved me so much. I'm gonna kill you, bitch. Lovely view."
"Belle—may I call you Belle?"
She looks suddenly tired, confused, grasping at straws. "Mason calls me Belle. He's sweet, you know? He'll be home waiting for me as soon as I kill you. But I feel I need to tell you my story. I have the sneaking suspicion that if I tell him, he won't listen." I see her gun drop a little. She looks down, defeated, despondent suddenly. She shakes her head. She starts mumbling. "Great view. Great view. The view has voices. Because it's the ring on my finger. And Mason sings with the flowers."
Twilight Zone anyone?
She drains the whiskey.
The gun starts shaking violently. I see Axle budge slightly from his seat.
Then, from outside, "THIS IS THE POLICE. YOU ARE SURROUNDED. YOU—"
The word for police in German is easy to figure out. And the bullhorn is a dead giveaway...
"You bastard!" Annabelle points the gun at Axle but he flies over the table and snatches it—
The gun fires!
Pieces of ceiling fall to the ground!
It fires again!
Boom!
"You fucking bastard. This was my destiny! I killed her baby! She was supposed to die! Mason is waiting for me!"
She fires again!
And again!
My door crashes open!
"POLICE! STOP! POLICE!"
Oh, God, what if they think Axle's the perp!? I scream! "It's not him! It's not him. IT'S HER! IT'S HER!"
Axle gets her gun away from her and stands! The cops smother her!
The cops aim at him!
"It's not him!"
He drops the gun and puts his hands up!
Then something very odd happens.
Her mouth begins foaming. She starts convulsing. She's choking and gagging.
Axle stands back. The cops surround her and try and revive her. There's confusion, noise, orders being thrown back and forth!
I hear gurgling.
The cops talk rapidly in German. Light orangey stuff comes out her mouth. She wrenches. A cop turns her on her side.
Then she stops moving.
And her eyes roll back.
The cops try resuscitate her.
By the time the paramedics get here, her skin is already going blue.
-2-
I see Axle's hand tremble.
He falls to the two-seater behind him. He puts his head on his hand and shakes it.
The room is spinning for me, as I'm sure it is for him.
I hear him mumbling. I go over to him. "Goddamnit. Goddamnit. Goddamnit," he's saying quietly.
I hold him and his whole body is shaking.
He puts a hand on my knee.
"You were buying time, weren't you?" I ask him.
He nods.
"Did you press the remote?"
He nods again.
A large man walks in the door talking broken English. "Boss, got message. See, cops here."
Axle stands. He shakes the man's hand. "Gen, this is Luka. He's from Croatia. He runs security for me at...my business."
"The secret business you never tell me about?"
"Yes, that one."
"Boss, what happen? What happen to woman?"
Axle and I look at Annabelle. He says, "Who gives a shit? The bitch is dead."
My money's on overdose.
They wheel her out.
I ponder what she said to me, and what she didn't say. She never did finish her story. If she had, there would have been no reason to keep us alive any longer.
But I understood enough.
And it made me sick.
It's really over now. Now, it really is over. Now I can begin again for real.
I hold Axle's arm.
The bitch is dead...
"And we're alive."
-3-
Axle and I hug tightly at night. I don't fall asleep. I can hear he's awake as well.
The hours go by and I'm too buzzed up to doze off. I'm not afraid. I'm relieved. Relieved it's over. I have questions, but I don't care about them. Answering those questions won't bring my baby back. Besides, the simplest answer is that I fell for the façade, the outside, the cover.
In Axle, I know what I have.
"You awake?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"What you thinking?"
He clears his throat. "Gen, I'm going to ask you for something. I won't tell you why. Just know that you can trust me, OK?"
"I do trust you."
"I need my ring back."
It feels like a mild punch to the gut. I force down the knee-jerk reaction and take it like an adult. I do trust him. I trust him with my life. "No problem."
We remain awake.
At sunrise, I give him his ring. He leaves without breakfast.
-4-
He's gone three hours and comes back with flowers. I'm wiping some dishes and can't help myself look over at his ring finger. There's no ring on it.
"Those are for me?"
"They are."
I don't ask about the ring, but it's all I'm thinking about. "You hungry?"
"Starving."
"I'll fry you up some bacon."
"I can do it."
"No, let me."
I turn and put a pan on the stove. Silence goes by and I can't help but wonder...
With my back to him, I hint at the subject: "All peaches?"
"Pears."
His statement doesn't register immediately. "I'm sorry, did you say pears?"
"I said pears."
"Is that like peaches?"
"No. It's better."
My back is still turned. Hinting is not gonna work. So I try the direct approach. "So, you take care of what you needed to with the ring?"
"I did."
More silence.
"You not wearing it anymore?"
"No."
All I hear is the bacon sizzling.
"You gonna tell me?"
"If you ask me, sure."
Still with my back turned, I say, "So, what did you"—I clear my throat—"do with the ring?"
"I buried it."
"Oh." Pause. "Where?"
"At the cemetery. With Zoey. It was just time to goodbye."
My mind shu
ts down for a second. Then it hits me what he just said.
A tear stings my eye and I quickly wipe it off. My nose starts dripping. "G—good. That's...good." I rush over to the fridge, back still turned. "I'm gonna cut some onions. You want some onions? I'm gonna cut some onions."
"I don't want any onions."
"I'm cutting onions." My eyes burn like they're being attacked by bees and my nose drips like an overflowing river.
Some of it's because of the onions. Most of it is not.
CHAPTER 45
-1-
G.
Jan. 26, 2014 — Sunday Evening
"Thanks for helping, Frankie. It might have taken Axle three days to get all his junk here if I let him do it alone."
"Ah, lass, no sweat. I've been tryin' to get this bugger to move out of that hole ever since he moved in there."
Axle walks in the door carrying a box of files. "Are you guys talking shit about me?"
"We are," says Frankie.
"Want a beer, Frankie?" I ask.
"Nah, I'm gonna get going. The beer at the pub's better anyway." He stands. "So, Gen, like I said, if he ever gives you shit, just call me. You know I'll kick his arse."
I look at Axle towering over Frankie, clearly the victor in both width and height. "Sure, Frankie, whatever you say."
"Don't be fooled by size, love. This oaf listens to me."
"I believe you."
After Frankie leaves, Axle says to me, "I have a surprise for you." He walks outside and brings in three crates.
"You're kidding. Are those the same crates we used—?"
"The same ones."
"You kept them?"
"I did."
The feeling it gives me is too warm and too fuzzy for me to be standing this far away from him. I stride over and wrap my arms around him. I try and kiss him but he says, "Wait."
He goes outside again and brings in a vase...with a bunch of origami flowers in it!
"I can't believe it."
"Believe it."
"You learned how to make origami flowers?"
"I did not."
"You paid someone to make origami flowers."
"I did."
"Business is going too well for you."
He sets up the crates in the lounge by the sofas. "Our first ever dining room set," he says. He puts the vase with the paper flowers on the "table."
Then he pulls out an origami chef hat from his shirt pocket, opens it up, and puts that on the table as well.
Like You (Perfectly Flawed #1) Page 28