Little Black Box Set (The Black Trilogy)

by Tabatha Vargo

  “So if I sign these?”

  “Well, once you sign, it all belongs to you. The property, the money, everything of Clive’s would now be yours.”

  “His legacy,” I whispered with a smile.

  “I believe that’s what he called it. So yes … his legacy would be yours.”

  I initialed and signed where David instructed, and then he left the room to make copies of everything. When he returned, he handed me a folder with my copies of the documents I had signed. I hesitated when he offered the folder because this was the final moment. Taking the folders meant I was accepting Clive’s legacy, which in my mind felt like I was accepting his death.

  I wasn’t.

  But he was gone, and I was all alone once again. Clive had kept so many of my demons away by keeping me busy with work and life. He made me realize the bad things I had done all those years ago weren’t my legacy. He made me realize I had much more to offer, but with him leaving me so suddenly, I was reminded once again how evil and cruel the world was.

  THIRTY

  One Year Later

  THE PAST YEAR OF MY LIFE SEEMED TO FLY BY IN A BLUR. I closed Mike’s, since it was nothing without Clive, but lived in his apartment. I ate mostly ramen since I didn’t have a job and still slept on the couch even though Clive’s perfectly good bed was just a few steps away.

  I couldn’t do it, though.

  I had issues even going in the room, much less sleeping there. Instead, I closed the door, hoping the memories of finding him dead on the floor would stay locked behind the door, as well.

  I drank way more than I should have, considering I had a supply room downstairs full of liquor. And when I felt like the loneliness would eat me alive, I left and walked the streets, letting the cold air sting my skin until I went numb again.

  I was on one of my lonely strolls when I ran into someone I never thought I would see again. I had reached the end of the curb when my ankle buckled in my drunken stumble down the darkened sidewalk.

  I fell into the wall, hitting my shoulder against the brick building that caught me. A cloud of beer-tainted breath hissed between my teeth. My shoulder felt like it was on fire, but the alcohol running through my system quickly dulled the pain. I would be feeling the pain when morning came.

  Pushing against the bricks, I flipped around until my back was against the wall. The cold air burned my lungs when I sucked in a deep breath as I tried my best to stop the world from spinning. Closing my eyes, I took a few more deep breaths, mentally preparing myself to move again.

  Normally, I would be smart and drink at the bar, but I couldn’t stand to be in that place. Not when it was officially the one-year anniversary of Clive’s death. For the entire day, I sat alone and dwelled over the date as the walls of the place closed in on me, making me feel like I was suffocating.

  Being in that place alone left me feeling raw and angry. I felt rage for everything I had lost in the past year of my life. I was falling apart, and even though I knew it was wrong to feel that way, I felt like it was all Clive’s fault.

  So many times over the past year, I wished I had never crawled through the window of Clive’s bar. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be feeling the pain I felt. I was alone and broken inside before I met Clive, and I had accepted that life.

  When he came into my life, he had slowly put the pieces of me back together. But when he died, I came apart in ways I hadn’t known was possible. Of all the losses in my life, Clive’s left the biggest scar.

  I stayed wasted, hoping to numb myself from everything. Hating Clive felt wrong, but I couldn’t help it. I hated him for leaving me. I was angry with him for not getting better like he promised he would—for leaving me his legacy, knowing I would screw it up and never fulfill it.

  He set me up to fail and didn’t even have the decency to stick around and watch me destroy my life.

  That was what I did.

  Destroyed things.

  I was sure I ruined my birth parents before I was even born. I blew through every foster family I ever had like a category four hurricane, including the one where I fell in love with Jane.

  I devastated a family I had never met, leaving two kids orphaned, and for what?

  For a fucking TV and hope that maybe, just maybe, I could show Vick all about Jessica Rabbit and my sick, fucked-up fascination with cartoons.

  Clive had been wrong to think I could do anything with his long-forgotten future.

  I was fucked up in the worst of ways, and the type of stupidity I was cursed with had no cure.

  Rage moved through me, making my bones feel broken and my skin bruised. I pushed away from the wall in search of more liquor, needing not to feel. I hadn’t gotten two steps when I heard a noise in the dark alleyway at my side.

  Everything was fuzzy, including my hearing, so I wasn’t sure exactly what I was listening to. I stopped and tried to focus on the sounds.

  “I said get the fuck off!” The angry words were cut short, and there was another muffled sound.

  “Do you think I care what the fuck you said? I paid for this; now you’re going to fucking deliver.”

  “You paid for twenty minutes. It’s been twenty minutes.”

  “It’s not my fault you took so long to get me off. Now you’re going to give me something extra.”

  “The fuck I am!”

  I could hear the struggle of the two in the dark of the night, but I couldn’t make out their shadows. Instinct told me to mind my own damn business and keep walking. I wasn’t exactly in the state to fight, but something about the girl’s voice stirred my insides. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince myself to walk away.

  “You bitch!” the second voice hissed. “You fucking bit me, you stupid slut! That’s fine; you want it fucking rough, that’s exactly how I’ll give it to you.”

  “Touch me again, and I’ll fucking kill you!”

  He laughed, and I knew if I didn’t step in, there would most likely be two dead bodies in the morning.

  “She said to leave her alone,” I growled into the darkness.

  The sound of struggling stopped, their deep breaths echoing through the night. I moved to step deeper into the alleyway but figured that wasn’t a smart move since I didn’t have a clear view.

  One stranger stepped out of the shadows with a knife in his hand, ready to strike. But once he moved into the light and got a good look at me, he stopped.

  I wasn’t sure what it was about me that made him pause, but I liked to think it was the absolute disregard for anything in my eyes that put fear in his heart.

  “Listen,” he said, licking at his sweaty top lip. “I got no beef with you, all right? The slut owes me. So why don’t you keep on walking and forget what you saw here?”

  The Earth was still shifting around me, the alcohol in my blood making me dizzy and unbalanced, but I stood tall, hoping he thought I was sober enough to put up a good fight.

  “Not going to happen,” I said. “You have two choices. Get the fuck out of here, or see how good my aim is. If I were you, I wouldn’t bet on me missing.”

  I didn’t have a gun on me, but he didn’t need to know that.

  I didn’t blink as I stared back at him and watched the conflict in his eyes. His gaze moved over me, searching for a gun, no doubt. His swallow was visible as he debated the choices I gave him, and then with a curse, he decided not to take the chance.

  “Whatever. Keep the slut,” he hissed.

  His steps echoed through the alley as he walked away. I stared at him until he was no longer visible before I turned away.

  That was when I saw her.

  Her dark hair was loose around her face; trash stuck to the ends of a few strands. Her face was so pale it practically glowed in the dark, and her lips were swollen and bruised as if she had been punched in the mouth.

  Her features were older, her eyes harder, and her body language was that of a cobra; poised and ready to strike.

  My gaze moved away from her face, tak
ing in her dirty, ripped clothes. She was dressed in a worn leather jacket, a ratted old shirt, and a short denim skirt that had more holes than fabric. I looked away, allowing my eyes to settle once again on her familiar face.

  Vick.

  “Sebastian? Is that you?”

  The deep rasp of her voice instantly sent me spiraling back to another dark time in my life.

  Murder.

  The liquor in my stomach soured as it danced its way up my throat and threatened to spew.

  “Vick.” Her named tumbled from my lips.

  She wrapped her arms around her middle, and her eyes lit with anger and embarrassment. But just as fast as it appeared, it was gone, and she squared her shoulders.

  “Stop fucking looking at me like that, Sebastian,” she hissed.

  “What are you doing here, Vick?”

  She was the last person in the world I expected to run into. Especially on such a terrible anniversary. I was busy mourning the loss of Clive. The last thing I wanted to think about was the loss of the family I had destroyed.

  “Like you care,” she bit out angrily.

  I shrugged. “You’re right. I don’t.”

  Hurt softened the hard lines around her eyes and mouth, and a very small part of me felt bad. Maybe I wasn’t as dead inside as I had hoped.

  “Fuck you, Sebastian.”

  I sighed. “It’s been a long night.”

  “It’s been a long couple of years,” she snapped. “Again, not that you cared.”

  I lifted my arms in the air. “What do you want from me?”

  “Some answers to start with.”

  “I don’t have answers. At least not to the questions you want to ask.”

  She ignored me and asked anyway. “Why did you leave me behind, Sebastian? Why didn’t you come find me? Where have you been this whole time?”

  “I told you I don’t have answers, Vick.”

  “You owe me, Sebastian.”

  “I don’t owe you shit. I’ll see you around.”

  I turned to walk away, but she was right on my heels and followed me down the street.

  “The fuck you don’t. You just disappeared. No note, no ‘goodbye, Vick, have a nice life,’ nothing. Why, Sebastian? Why?” She grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. “Why?”

  “You murdered two innocent people, that’s why! I couldn’t stand to be around you. You reminded me of everything I hated about myself.”

  My words cut her deep. I could tell by the gasp that exploded from her mouth.

  Replaying my words in my head, I even winced at their harshness. But the truth hurt, and what I had said was all truth.

  She didn’t back down.

  She didn’t walk away.

  “And now?” she asked, quietly.

  She was desperate and seemed fragile. Both things she had never been before.

  Taking my first real look at her, I could see what the past few years had done to her. It made me wonder where we would be if I had never left.

  “Now.” I sighed. “Now, I have new reasons to hate myself.”

  “I never meant for you to hate me, Sebastian.”

  I didn’t respond.

  What was really left to say anyway?

  I didn’t know exactly how I felt about Vick, but seeing her and walking up on her and that guy left me with an uneasy feeling.

  “You want a drink?” I asked.

  I wasn’t sure why I offered the olive branch, but I did. It was probably because I was lonely. I was sick and tired of being alone and sad.

  Sure, we had a past, but for just one night, I could forget about that if it meant having someone around to help me forget about Clive.

  She smiled. “After the night I had, I could definitely use a drink.”

  “Let’s get out of here before that guy comes back with his friends.”

  It didn’t take us long to get back to Clive’s.

  We stood outside the dead building. Just looking at it made me feel as though I couldn’t breathe. Every time I stood outside the place, the reality of what I lost was like a blow to my chest.

  “Mike’s?” Vick mocked. “Sebastian, this place looks like a dump. I doubt they even have any alcohol in this place. Let’s just find somewhere else.”

  “It has alcohol,” I told her, and when I walked up to the front door, Vick looked around nervously.

  “I know you’ve been out of the whole breaking and entering game, but it’s best if we find a window or something in the back.”

  Her words twisted painfully in my chest, but I pushed away the memory and fished for the keys in my pocket.

  “Sebastian, seriously, let’s go around back.”

  I pulled out the keys and held them up in front of her face. “Chill, okay?”

  She frowned. “How the hell did you manage to swipe the keys to this place?”

  “I didn’t swipe anything,” I said, unlocking the door and pushing it open. “I own it.”

  Her eyes went wide, and her mouth sagged open a little as she stared at me.

  “What the fuck do you mean you own it?”

  “Exactly what I said; it’s mine. Now, are you going to go in or are we just going to stand outside and freeze our asses off?”

  A million questions formed on her lips, but she kept her mouth shut and walked in. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I passed her and made my way to the bar.

  “How the hell do you own this place?” she asked, looking around. “And what the hell happened to it?”

  She was referring to the half of Clive’s still charred from the fire.

  It had been a year since I tried to burn the place down, and I had no plans to clean up my mess. The place couldn’t run without Clive. There was no way I could handle doing it on my own. What would be the point of fixing it up?

  “There was a small fire.”

  “Okay, now can we get back to my other question? How the hell do you own this place?”

  I sighed.

  There was no way to get around the question. I knew Vick, and she wasn’t going to drop it.

  “Drink first, answers second.”

  I placed two shot glasses on the bar. She took a seat on the other side and waited while I poured. Setting the bottle of Jack down, we picked up the glasses and downed them in one swallow.

  “Okay, we drank. Now, spill.”

  And so I did.

  The story came out, filling her in on everything I had been up to since I left her. I told her about Clive, his death, and the legacy he left behind … left to me. I told her everything, and I knew while I was speaking that it was more the liquor talking than me.

  When I finished, she told me what she had been doing since I left, and how she hadn’t been lucky enough to find someone like Clive. Instead, she had spent time running with Anthony, my ex-boss and biggest drug dealer in New York, and his crew.

  Things were different after I left, and Anthony had become too intense without me there to balance things out. She fought her way out of his grasp and left, going into hiding since he didn’t believe in women leaving him.

  With no money, she fended for herself and had turned to selling the only thing she had worth anything … her body.

  It killed me that she had felt forced to do that, but I couldn’t regret my decision to leave.

  We spent the rest of the night drinking and catching up.

  “Do you ever think about them?” I asked, releasing the words and thoughts before I could stop them.

  “Who?” she asked with a frown.

  At first, I thought she was purposely being clueless, but I realized she really had no idea who I was talking about.

  “From that night, Vick. The family.”

  “Oh.” She looked away. “No, I don’t. Why would I? It’s over and done with.”

  I took a swig from my bottle, the liquor fueling the fire in my stomach from her words.

  “We killed them, Vick. We took those parents away from those kids. They will never see each other
again because of what we did.”

  “We didn’t have parents.” She shrugged. “The world is unfair, Sebastian.”

  “It’s not the same. We couldn’t help what happened to us.”

  “I can’t change what happened, Sebastian, and you running away from me wasn’t going to change it either.”

  I didn’t respond.

  I couldn’t.

  We sat in silence as the sun slowly started to rise, melting away the night fog and sending a spark of light through the boarded-up windows of Mike’s.

  It bothered me that she was so indifferent toward a night that had basically blackened my soul. She so easily put it behind her.

  How could she never think of them again?

  “You have a good life here, Sebastian,” she said several minutes later. “It’s not much, but it’s much nicer than the place we used to have.”

  At that, I chuckled.

  I could barely remember the terrible tin building we tried to survive in and how difficult it was with no electricity or water.

  “Why are you wasting it?” she asked, breaking through my memories.

  “I’m not.”

  “The fuck you aren’t. Look at you,” she said, pointing her bottle at me. “You expect me to believe this is a one-time thing? You expect me to believe you don’t live your life drunk out of your mind? We know addicts. We know drunks. You’ve got the yellowed eyes of a man who drinks too damn much.”

  “I expect you to mind your own damn business.”

  “Well, too bad. You could really make something of yourself. It’s not every day people like us get handed a future wrapped in a pretty little bow.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, but I can see that this Clive person meant a lot to you. And he obviously cared a lot about you, too, if he left you everything. How would he feel if he knew you were wasting it?”

  “Stop,” I growled. “I told you; you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Despite my snapping at her, she pushed. If Vick was nothing else, she was persistent.

  “Come on, Sebastian. You could really make something of this place.”

  “No.”

  You could open your own place. I can help you.”