by C. S. Starr
“He didn’t tell her. I had to tell her.” He sat beside her and her body moved to curl around him as she lay her head in his lap. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Someone else lit themselves on fire in San Francisco. On the bridge.” She turned the television on. “There were three last week when you were gone.”
He instinctively stroked her hair, an action that he knew she found comforting, and watched the television flash on a ball of fire climbing up onto the ledge before dropping into the ocean. It had happened a bit, in the early days, before kids had come up with less dramatic ways to end their lives, but it had been years since he’d heard of anyone doing it.
“Was there a reason?”
She rolled over and looked at him, a frown on her familiar features. “Tonight they said the kid was bipolar. The others were depressed. They don’t know though. It’s just excuses, because life isn’t what it used to be, and some days you wake up, and that’s hard to swallow.”
“The kids in Campbell that I met? Most of them think it’s better now than before. Can you imagine feeling like that?”
“No,” she said simply. “I can’t.” A sob dragged out of her throat. “I have to tell you something.”
There’d been no hint of intimacy between them since his return. He found himself surprised, but not unhappy about that. Something had been off with her over the past week he’d been back, and he’d pushed a little bit, but she’d shut down each time, vanishing to her room, or the garden, and leaving him drowning in a heady mix of anger and concern.
“Tell me,” he said quietly, as she sat up on her heels on the couch. “A guy gets kidnapped for a week and his whole world goes to shit—”
“I slept with Connor, before I knew you were alive. I…” Her face screwed up and fat tears streamed down her cheeks. “I didn’t know what would happen to me if you were gone, and I wasn’t thinking….”
Tal stood and he felt a type of rage bubble up in him that he’d never experienced before. “Leah, what the fuck—”
“Don’t say anything, because I knew what I was doing. It wasn’t that I didn’t know,” she wiped her eyes. “I know it was stupid, but I just felt like I needed to make sure—”
He sat down in his father’s chair. “Did he make you—”
“No!” She shook her head. “No. I…it was my idea. You know how he always wanted me—”
“Because he couldn’t have you. Fuck,” Tal shook his head, disgusted and angry. “You really thought that was the answer?”
“What else is the answer? He runs everything. He had all the contacts. There’s nothing I could have done—”
“You could have tried.”
Tears ran down her cheeks. “I know,” she nodded. “I know. Everything was so fucked—”
“If I die,” he said, his eyes locked with hers. “You go to Campbell. You take the money and you go find Lucy Campbell, and you tell her who you are. You got that?”
She shook her head. “We thought they took you. Connor was sure of it.”
Tal rubbed his temples. “Why the hell would they beat the shit out of their own leader and have her vanish too? That doesn’t make any sense. ”
Leah shrugged. “Maybe not, but we didn’t exactly have much to go on. I didn’t know any of that before you called.”
After spending the rest of the day together in the garden working around each other in awkward silence, Leah and Tal said their goodnights. What seemed like hours of tossing and turning later, Tal trudged downstairs to pace the floor of his father’s study for a few hours before he finally sat down and did the only thing that felt right. He needed to talk to someone away from the fog of insanity he’d been dropped into the moment he’d landed on the plane a week ago.
Hello,” Lucy’s voice rasped on the phone.
“How do I start?” he said, his voice low. “How do I begin to change things?”
“Who—”
Tal found himself frustrated that she didn’t immediately know. “It’s Tal Bauman.”
A muffled female voice grumbled something and then he heard footsteps and a door close. “Jesus, it’s after midnight and what are you talking about?”
“It’s not good here. It’s time for me to act, but I don’t know how—”
He could hear her pull out her map. “Tal, I’ve got to fight a war with East and I don’t know how either. There’s not exactly a rule book to go with this shit.”
“I don’t know where to begin. It’s…there’s too much to think about.”
She yawned loudly. “Well, gather your people that you trust—”
“How do I know who I can trust?”
She went quiet. “I’m probably a terrible person to ask that question of. You know. Deep down, you just know.”
Tal thought about that. “And then what? When I know who?”
“Then you start deciding what you can do, and you do it. Don’t try and do it all at once. Pace yourself. Slow and steady.”
“How are you?” he thought to ask. “How are things?”
“No Cole yet,” she said quietly. “And no pictures, and no nothing. Andrew’s gone east to see if he can find out more information.”
“Leah slept with Connor. She thought she needed to be safe with me gone.”
The line went quiet. “Why would she think that?”
“Because that’s what he told her.”
“I don’t know why you let that miserable little shit—”
“Got it,” he muttered. “Don’t need the pep talk.”
“Bull’s going to handle Seattle. He’s going to call you about the arrangements.”
He frowned at the phone. “Why aren’t you calling me about it? I made the arrangement with you.”
Lucy exhaled and her voice wavered. “I’m trying here, Tal. I can’t do everything, and you’re…you’ve become…we’re trying to work things out, Zoey and me. I told her everything.”
Tal teetered on the edge of disappointed and curious about if he’d ever really had a chance.
“All right,” he replied curtly. “Tell Bull I’ll look forward to his call.”
That caused a long sigh on the other end of the phone. “You can call if you need to. If you want to talk. I—”
“I wouldn’t want to be a problem, since I hooked up with—”
“We didn’t hook up.”
“Since I hooked up with your girlfriend,” Tal said dryly, aware that it was childish to goad her, but unable to stop himself. “I’m sure that’s why you’re concerned.”
“Of course,” she muttered. “I’m…I’m going to go. Good luck.”
While he lay awake long into the night, pondering all the information he’d gathered that day, he remembered something poignant from when they’d been grabbed in Campbell.
She’d been beaten and he’d been sedated.
They’d told him where they were from, very clearly.
They’d gone after Lucy first. They’d ignored him when he’d run away, even though there were three of them.
He sat up in bed. He’d never been in any danger. He felt nauseous as the realizations slapped him in the face, one after the other and his mind raced with all the possible outcomes regarding what could have come to pass early that morning in Missouri. Lucy died. He reported on what happened, and started a war with Campbell and West on one side and East on the other, since he’d been an intended target too. Lucy lived. Things went as they had, and they were allies in a war against East. By some chance they both died. Campbell and West would avenge their deaths together. Tal had been a reluctant pain in the ass lately anyway.
As had Juan.
Either way, there was one party that benefited more than the other, and in light of current events, it was one that didn’t need Campbell swooping in and claiming the spoils of their failed empire.
West. Connor. Connor had everything to gain, Tal realized, as he heaved into the wastepaper basket beside his bed.
It made sense. Connor’s lack
of concern when Andrew Campbell told him Tal was missing, so disconnected and unconcerned that it seemed off, even to a psychopath like the oldest Campbell. Connor had everything to gain.
At almost two in the morning, Tal quietly left the house and headed for a place where he knew he’d find a confidante; someone that would be as angry as he was.
Despite the hour, the lights were on, but Tal knocked quietly so as not to wake the kids.
When Rika answered the door, she didn’t look the least bit surprised to see him, in her housecoat once again, a large glass of red wine in hand.
“I was wondering when you’d figure it out,” she muttered. “Took you long enough.”
“You knew?”
“It was fairly obvious when I thought about it,” she nodded at the couch. “Come on in. We have a lot to talk about. It’s late, and the kids will be up in a few hours.”
Chapter 19
December 2002
Pasadena, West
Tal climbed over the railing of the Colorado Street Bridge and peered into the darkness below, gulping back air in short bursts. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. When he closed his eyes, all he could see was her smile. Her airy laugh filled every silence. He let out a sob, unable to hold it back any longer.
It was his fault.
She’d asked him to come outside with her, to go for a walk. All she’d wanted was to get out of the house for a bit. It wasn’t safe. It hadn’t been safe for a month, ever since supplies started drying up in a real way and the price of the things everyone really needed went through the roof as everyone attempted to trade up to get ahead.
Eventually, the kids without conscience just took what they wanted. Bartering went out the window.
They’d put their heads down, himself, Leah, and Rachel. They had supplies, and the connections he’d made through his work with Connor had afforded them privileges not many had. The last thing he wanted to do was draw any attention to them. He’d stopped keeping up the front yard.
All she wanted was to get out of the house. A week later, he could still smell her blood on him, still feel it, hot, sticky, and metallic.
It was too much. It hadn’t been before that day, not losing his brothers, his parents, everyone he’d ever known that had the answers. Nothing had been his fault before that. He felt so heavy with loss that the only thing he could think of was tipping over.
He sat down on the ledge and let his feet dangle over, which was deliciously freeing. The dream of not feeling anything clouded his mind, and he imagined falling, falling, then nothing. He snapped out of his fantasy when a flashlight shone in his face.
“Jesus, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Connor called out. “Come on back over the edge.”
Tal ignored him and swung his legs a little, reveling in the rush it created.
“You’re not doing this. It sucks, what happened. It really sucks, but don’t do this. We didn’t live, work for everything, for you to do this. I…need you.”
Lights in the distance drew Tal’s attention and he continued ignoring Connor, which was impossible under any other circumstances.
“We’ll do things your way. We’ll do good things. Make sure this didn’t happen for no reason. Come on, buddy. Please,” he pleaded. “I…don’t have anyone else.”
“It’s not about me,” Tal mumbled. “And you have lots of people.”
“Not like you. Not who will tell me how it is. So you made a mistake. You’re not going to make it again—”
“My six year old cousin is dead!” Tal screamed, standing up on the edge, feeling the weight of the night breeze holding him back. “She’s dead because of me.”
Connor held his arms out, beckoning Tal towards him. “She’s dead because some stupid kid fired a gun. We all make mistakes. We’re more than our mistakes, but you won’t get to see that if you don’t come home with me.”
“Get out of here, Connor,” Tal grumbled. “I didn’t come here to hug it out.”
“I did,” he said, hopping over the railing and standing about a foot away from him. “How’s this sound? You jump, I jump.”
Tal looked over at his friend, and wiped his eyes, embarrassed that he was crying. “Go home.”
“I mean it. You want that on your head too? We’re a two for one deal, Tal Bauman.”
“You don’t need me!” he roared. “Go!”
Connor shook his head. “Don’t tell me what I need. So, come on. Are we doing it, or are you going to get over yourself and realize that there are people out there who need you, and will need you in the future?”
Tal closed his eyes and felt the breeze against his face. He gripped the smooth metal railing with his hands.
“Come on, and I’ll never tell anyone we were here,” Connor whispered. “No one will ever know.”
October 2012
Los Angeles, West
The kids were up, bathed, dressed and fed, playing happily in the backyard by the time Tal left at nine the next morning. He was amazed by Rika’s multitasking abilities.
“Let me talk to my people and we’ll touch base tonight?” she cocked her head at him. “You sure you don’t just want to crash in the spare room—”
“My cousin will worry. She’s probably already worrying. We had a fight, sort of.” Tal rubbed his eyes. “I’ll come by—”
“After nine.” She pulled her glasses down from the top of her head. “We’ll see if we can’t figure something out fast.”
Connor was parked at his house when he got back and Tal shoved his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie and put on a smile.
“I’m going to Irvine,” Connor said brightly, after rolling down his window. “Thought you might want to come along.”
As soon as he spoke, Tal was torn between bludgeoning him and telling him to fuck off. He knew Connor wouldn’t kill him if he went, not yet, anyway, and Tal wanted to get more of a read on him, but he hated him, hated him more than he’d ever hated anyone. He hated his face, his dumb, fake-innocent smile, the way he vainly glanced in the rear view mirror of his car. He’d determined Connor’s guilt through the circumstances that had unraveled in his head over the days preceding, but a part of him needed to know it with certainty so he could finish him confidently. “Why Irvine?”
“Something’s wrong with the projector at the big theatre. I said I’d go look at it.”
Connor loved the technical aspect of playing movies just as much as Tal did. They’d learned together. If he wasn’t trying to make amends for something, he sure as hell seemed like he was, because Tal knew any other day, he would have sent someone. This was an attempt to appeal to Tal’s nostalgic side, probably since he’d tried to have him killed, unwittingly involving him in a multi-territory war, and manipulated and fucked his cousin, not to mention having their mutual friend killed and widowing one of the smartest women Tal had ever met.
The list kept growing.
“Yeah, I’ll go,” Tal said, opening up the passenger side door. “Just let me tell Leah.”
Telling Leah really meant grabbing his pocketknife. Tal caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror by the door, and for the briefest moment saw a reassuring face.
His father’s.
“So you’re adjusting okay to being back?” Connor asked, after they pulled out of the driveway. “You seem a little down.”
“I took Juan’s ashes over to his house a couple of days ago. That was pretty hard.” He looked wistfully out the window, in an attempt to keep his fury in check as he watched the city fly by. “That was hard.”
Connor nodded deeply. “I meant to go see Rika, bring some flowers or something, but it’s…” He swallowed, and furrowed his brow sympathetically, much like his father had in a dozen or so romantic comedies. “It’s just hard, you know? And I’ve been so busy with all this Vegas shit that the time wasn’t right. Sorry you had to do that.”
What chilled Tal to the bone was how sincere he sounded. If he hadn’t already firmly decided on Connor’s guilt, he wo
uld have questioned it. Connor was a master manipulator, and a better actor than he got credit for.
“It was all right. She’s okay. He’s got lots of family to look out for her and his girls.”
“Cute kids, huh?” Connor smiled thinly. “They were an unlikely couple.”
“Those are always the best ones, my grandpa used to say.” Tal looked at Connor expectantly, knowing he’d bring up Leah sooner or later.
“Listen, I don’t know if you talked to Leah…” Connor raised his eyebrows and attempted to look remorseful.
“I did talk to Leah,” Tal muttered, trying to focus on the bigger issue of Juan’s death and his own attempted murder. He’d let Leah’s stupidity go if it bought him some time to plot. “Not cool, man.”
“I know,” Connor nodded sincerely. “It goes against all the man codes. We really didn’t think you were coming back—”
“And the first thing that comes to mind was to put your dick in my cousin?”
“What happened with you and Lucy Campbell, out in the middle of nowhere, when we were worried sick about you and you couldn’t even call us?” Connor snapped back.
“Don’t turn this around on me.” Tal shook his head, thinking of Leah, seething on the inside as he flashed to what it would feel like to snap Connor’s neck—a thought compounded by what Tal was sure Connor had masterminded for himself, Lucy, and Juan. He remembered Lucy, blood on her mouth, on the ground after he’d murdered her attacker. “We’re not doing that.”
“You didn’t call for days. She called her people.”
Connor did technically have him there, but what Tal knew after the fact made it clear that he’d made the right call. “Nothing happened with me and Lucy Campbell.”
“You seem awfully keen to start handing her over property now. I don’t think we had to give her Seattle. Not if we’re leaving her alone while she deals with her East problem. I hope you at least got your dick wet, so then you being so pussy-whipped would make sense—”
“What did you tell Leah, Connor? Did you tell her she’d end up some whore somewhere if you weren’t around to help her out? Did you tell her you’d take care of her?”