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Into Dust: The Industry City Trilogy - Book One

Page 8

by Marlee P. Louis


  “No.”

  “Gina.”

  “I said no. I’m done with this shit.” Gina turned and moved down the bar, her movements harsh when she yanked an empty bottle off the counter and slammed another down in its place, the fury radiating from her—even the man she was serving, hunched over his stool, glanced up. London watched her go, a film of tears glazing her eyes as she began to crumble. She looked over to find me watching her and I jerked back slightly when her eyes met mine, the familiar chanting beginning to sound in my head, though it was faint, echoing dimly like the remnants of a dream.

  “Hey Avery,” she said dully.

  I stared at her for a moment, trying to control the panicked fear of realization. “Do we know each other?”

  “No.” One hand lifted to wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks, and I saw the single, shining scar of a crescent-shaped brand screaming up from her pale skin. “And it’s probably better if we keep it that way.” My mouth went dry and I took an involuntary step back, staring at the mark that matched my own, the constant pain in my shoulder seeming to throb in eager recognition. She turned to make her way back to the door, and my attention shifted to where Alex was still leaning against the wall, watching me with a lazy, heavy-lidded gaze. London stopped next to him, her back to me and her head bowed. There was no way to make out what she was saying, but Alex’s expression tightened slightly, though he never looked away from me. London, too, glanced back at me before quickly looking away again when she saw me watching.

  Finally, Alex looked down at the huddled figure next to him, and his expression hardened, lips moving with words that were meant only for her. London’s head snapped up, staring at him a moment before extending a shaking hand, laying it on his arm. He smiled at her, and an unexpected flare of jealousy ran through me. It wasn’t the slow, suggestive smile he gave me—it was open and genuine. The kind of smile you give someone you love. My stomach tightened, and I looked away when she slipped back out the door, then launched suddenly into action, pulling a gray plastic tub from beneath the bar and moving into collect a few empty glasses and bottles from the tables. At the far end of the bar, Gina was busying herself with topping off bottles that were already full.

  “Who was that girl?” I asked, passing by Alex.

  “Gina’s ex,” he answered, his expression brooding. He didn’t look at me. “It’s a long story.”

  “Yeah, I bet.” A sudden wave of frustration filled me, and I threw the last bottle into the tub with a crash that brought his gaze to mine. “You two were friendly.”

  “We used to be.” He regarded me for a moment before his lips twitched up. “Are you jealous?”

  “No,” I snapped. “I saw the mark on her hand. She’s with them, isn’t she?”

  His smile fell away, his eyes taking on a guarded look. “Yes.”

  “Did you tell her my name?”

  “No.”

  “Well, she knew it.” His eyebrows raised but I was already on my way into the backroom, shoving the tub onto a counter before leaning against it and closing my eyes. The chanting in my head disappeared with London, but the memory of it was still there. There was no denying I was afraid; everything that had happened to me since arriving in Dust was too bizarre to not be, and now I had a gun tucked under my pillow at home. Home. The word panicked me; home was a place you belonged, a place you meant to stay. Tears stung hot behind my eyes and I took a long, shuddering breath—jumping slightly when an arm pulled me into a sideways hug.

  “You okay?” Gina was calm, and there was nothing that spoke of anger in her expression. “Sorry about that, she caught me by surprise.”

  “I’m okay,” I said, hastily wiping the tears away. For all Alex was strong, Gina felt more in control than anyone I’d met so far, and the fact that I felt so out of control left me feeling awkward and embarrassed. She’d given me a job, and now she was comforting me when moments ago she’d looked to be on the point of her own breakdown.

  “London is your ex?” Gina nodded, glancing at me to see how I would react. When I didn’t, she relaxed visibly and leaned against the counter next to me. “When did you break up?”

  “Six months ago,” she answered. She seemed about to say more, then caught herself. I didn’t have to guess—I’d seen it for myself.

  “They have her, don’t they.” I repeated Gina’s words, not just because she’d understand them, but because I was beginning to. She nodded again, her jaw tightening in anger.

  “I’m guessing Alex told you about them,” she answered after a moment. “It’s hard to stay out of it around here, especially when they’ve marked you. Someone decided they wanted her and they just…took her.”

  I wanted to know, not just because I cared about Gina, but because I needed to know what might happen to me. Something about London scared me far more than the encounters I’d had with whatever darkness was following me. I resisted the urge to press my hand against the throbbing mark on my shoulder, remembering the match I’d seen on London’s hand, Gina’s words playing over in my head. They’d just taken her. I wondered then if that’s all I was waiting for now, if it was just a matter of time before they came for me as well.

  I didn’t say anything, though. I didn’t even move.

  “It was my fault,” Gina went on. She wasn’t looking at me, the words pouring from her as if they’d been bottled up for too long. “When Vic disappeared, Duke’s needed someone to keep it open and I decided it should be me. It was a mess—everything was a mess. The bar, the accounting, the orders, he’d let it all go to shit and the bank was about to take it, so I took out a loan and put the lease in my name. I started spending all my time here trying to get it back on track and I left her alone. She was angry and jealous, she kept calling Duke’s my ‘boyfriend’ and how it’d taken her place, plus the loan was more than we could afford. I tried telling her it was a good opportunity for us, but she didn’t care. She was lonely.”

  “How did they find her?”

  “I don’t know. It all happened so fast—she disappeared one day while I was at work. She took her clothes, but she didn’t even leave a note.”

  “Maybe she couldn’t leave one.” My arms wrapped around my stomach again as she was speaking, trying to hold in the sick feeling that was spreading through me. “People seem to disappear a lot around here.”

  “That’s what I thought, too. I freaked out and called the cops—tried everything and couldn’t find her. Looked for days until finally she showed up at the bar looking like that, with her hair dyed and dressed like some emo goth kid with that fucking mark on her hand. I asked her to come home and she said that she couldn’t, but that she needed help.”

  “To get away from them?”

  “No,” Gina’s laugh was bitter. “Nothing like that. She wanted money and said they’d hurt her if she didn’t come back with something. She was so fucking scared I couldn’t say no. I didn’t know what else to do.”

  “Has she ever tried to come home?”

  “No.” Gina’s anger switched instantly back on. “I used to ask her every time I saw her. Fucking begged, but she’d just cry and say they wouldn’t let her go.”

  My arms tightened around my middle like I might be able to keep my sanity in place simply by holding on. I wanted to think I was different than London, that I was above whatever vulnerability had marked her as prey, but there was no use denying the similarities—in many ways, I was just as lost and just as alone. Gina was watching me, her expression so pained it made me forget my own for a moment. I didn’t have to ask to know that Gina had never been one of their targets. She was strong, capable, and unafraid to face the demons that stalked from the shadows. She was everything I wasn’t, that London wasn’t, that maybe even Alex wasn’t.

  I was silent for a moment. “Do you know why she can’t leave? Do you know what they’re doing to her?”

  “I know they’re controlling her somehow.” Gina’s voice was grim. “I’ve seen the games they play. They prey o
n the weak. You have to be strong to stay out of it and she never was. I went to that factory so many times trying to get her to leave with me. I didn’t even care if we were together after, I just wanted to get her the hell out of there. I tried to ram the gates once and got arrested.” She laughed. “Can you believe it? A cult called the cops on me.”

  “Did you see London?”

  “Yes. She’d come out every time and tell me to go home. That she was happy.”

  I swallowed hard. “Do you think that’s true?”

  Gina’s gaze moved to mine and her smile was sad. “She was in school to be a teacher. Trust me, this isn’t what she wanted, but how many times can someone tell you to go away before you do? I had to give up eventually. She still comes around like that, though, asking for favors.”

  “I saw her talking to Alex.”

  “They used to be really good friends. For some reason, he blames all of this on himself. He thinks he should have protected her. I keep telling him there’s nothing we can do now, not unless she wants to help herself. She’s going to have to—”

  “Fight,” I finished. Her eyebrows rose when she looked over at me, studying my expression without replying, though I wasn’t really paying attention to Gina just then. I was remembering the way I’d felt in the parking lot and when the men at the pool table had attacked me. They hadn’t touched me, hadn’t even come close to me, but it still felt like an assault, stripping me of my ability think or resist. If it wasn’t for my stalker in the parking lot or Gina’s gun in the bar, there was little doubt in my mind it would have taken me over completely. “Maybe…” My voice was quiet. Scared. “Maybe she couldn’t. Maybe she didn’t know how.”

  “She didn’t even try,” Gina snapped. “Now they send her for errands to get things, usually alcohol, sometimes more money. She’d tell me they’d ‘punish’ her if she didn’t come back with it, and I used to give her what she needed. But I’m done with it. And I’m fucking done with her.”

  Something told me that wasn’t exactly true; if Gina was really done the anger and hurt wouldn’t still be there. They existed because she still cared, still wanted to make it right and couldn’t. It was the kind of ache that would only go away when a person has finally moved on, and from the way Gina was acting it was clear these wounds were still as fresh as the day they were made. There was more to it than that for me, though. I needed to hear that London was asking for help because there was a chance of escape, that she wanted to escape. The dim echo of the chanting I’d heard had sounded more like a memory than something she was living, and I’d been clinging to the idea that’s all it had been, only faded remnants of an old nightmare. I’d been waiting for Gina’s story to tell me it was all in the past, but instead it was raw and bleeding and offered me no hope. None at all.

  Gina seemed to realize at that moment everything she’d said, her expression changing again from anger, this time to concern. “Hey.” Her hands slipped around my arms, trying to pull them away from where I’d locked them around my body. “You’re going to be okay, Avery. Those assholes aren’t going to touch you, I promise. We won’t let them.”

  I dredged up a smile and gave her a hug. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe Gina wanted to keep me safe, it was that she had no real reason to. I was a stranger, a newcomer she’d adopted out of kindness—a kindness that might vanish if she knew about the mark on my shoulder. She hadn’t been able to save London and she loved her—there didn’t seem to be much hope that Gina or Alex would be able to get me out of this fucked up situation. I’d have to do it on my own, somehow.

  The door to the backroom opened and Alex poked his head in while we were mid-hug, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Break’s over,” he told Gina, “There’s a line out here. If you want me tending bar, you’re going to have to pay me a hell of a lot more.”

  “Why,” Gina pulled away and started towards him, “You already drink twice your paycheck for free.” He winked at me before disappearing, and Gina moved to follow him out.

  “Why didn’t you change the name,” I asked her before she could go. “When you took over the bar, why didn’t you change it?”

  “I don’t know,” she paused, looking back. “Vic was a nice guy, I was sorry when he disappeared.” A smile tugged at one corner of her mouth. “He named this place after his dog. I always thought that was nice.” She left then, the door swinging shut behind her, leaving me alone again. I drew in a deep breath and scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to rid myself of the lingering sense of dread. I needed to get a grip. London had shaken me, but I wasn’t her, and I wasn’t going to stand around as an easy target. Not again.

  The rest of the night passed uneventfully, save an incident with the mop bucket that left me drenched in dirty water from the knees down. Alex stood outside the bar while Gina locked up, then walked with us the short distance into the apartments, holding the door open while we both ducked into the lobby. Gina started up and I began to follow, only to find a hand closing on the waist of my jeans, dragging me back and pinning me against the hard muscle of Alex’s chest, one arm looping around to keep me in place. Gina paused on the stairs to glance back, then rolled her eyes.

  “See you tomorrow, Avery,” she said a bit too loudly, her footsteps heavy on the stairs as she climbed.

  “Night,” I called after her, though she had already disappeared.

  “I think my sister likes you,” Alex said from behind me.

  “I think she’s lonely,” I answered, already distracted by the second arm that wrapped around me, his hands methodically untucking my shirt just enough to run calloused palms beneath, pressing flat against my stomach.

  “I’m lonely,” Alex murmured into my hair, his lips passing down my cheek towards my neck. “Fuck, I’ve been going crazy all night wanting to touch you.”

  I was exhausted, sore and afraid, but something about the hold of his arms around me let me push it all out of my mind. I desperately wanted to forget it all, to just exist and pretend that everything was normal and sane. His fingers splayed on my stomach, inching up as his lips dropped down, the light stubble on his cheeks grazing my skin. I leaned back as his hands slid farther, pushing my bra up to cup my breasts, a shiver ripping through my body at the pass of his thumbs over nipples that were already hard from his touch. I reached up, my hand circling the back of his neck, my face tipping up—eyes closed as his lips met mine, unresisting as he immediately deepened the kiss, his hold on me growing more insistent. I arched into him, pushing my ass up into the hard, throbbing strain in his jeans and he groaned, his fingers capturing both my nipples and pinching down just hard enough for me to gasp.

  “Let’s go upstairs.” His words were nearly a growl, his hips moving against me and my body responded, heat coursing through me and turning to liquid fire.

  My body wanted him, every part of me aching for him, and the parts of my brain that he’d switched off with his kiss wanted him, too. Nine flights up and I could strip him down, already exploring him in my mind. I had one small problem, though. I hadn’t been able to think of a good place to hide it, so I’d left my loaded gun under my pillow. I was sure Alex wouldn’t care if he knew I had it, but I couldn’t get the warning out of my head to keep it hidden.

  Reluctantly, I pulled away just enough to turn in his arms, raising up on tip toe to kiss him once more. “You’re going to have to work harder than that,” I told him. It was a lie—he probably could push me up against the wall at this point and I’d climb him like a tree. “Buy a girl dinner first. Or at least a drink.”

  “How about carry a chair up nine flights.” His hands slipped down to grip my ass hard, lifting me against him so that I could feel every impressive inch of him pressing against my stomach. I shifted, running one hand down to wrap my hand around him through the denim, smiling up at him when his breath caught.

  “Dinner,” I said again, kissing him one last time before untangling myself from his grasp and backing towards the stairs.

  He s
ighed heavily and slumped back against the wall, watching me go with a narrowed gaze. I waved but didn’t stop, afraid that if I did, I’d run straight back down.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  * * *

  I woke early the next morning with a single goal in mind: laundry. Between living in the backseat of my car for two weeks and the sweaty, dirty work of the bar, I couldn’t stand another day without clean clothes. I didn’t even bother with a shower since I had nothing to wear after—I stuffed everything I could into my duffle bag and counted out what cash I’d earned from the night before. It was all tips and all under the table, though it didn’t seem like the people of Dust were very generous. I’d walked with fifty dollars in my pocket, and I wasn’t sure yet if it was worth the aching back and dishpan hands. It was enough to hunt down a laundry mat, at least, and I was grateful for that much.

  I paused in the hallway after locking up, my gaze moving towards 9B. The caution tape was down, and a new door had been installed. The railing, however, had not been replaced—the bent and twisted metal a clear reminder of what happened, and I stared at it a long moment before turning to run down the stairs.

  It was just past nine and the street outside was still deserted and quiet without a single person in sight; even the usual cluster of prostitutes outside the bar had called it quits. That suited me just fine, hiking the duffle up on my shoulder and heading down the block towards a laundry mat I’d staked out earlier. I made it two blocks before the sound of a car engine sprang to life behind me, glancing back to see an older silver sedan pull away from the curb half a block back, a warning bell going off when it made a U-Turn. I turned my attention to the sidewalk before me when it pulled up next to me and slowed, wrapping my jacket around me and hurrying down the street.

  The car kept pace beside me for a few more steps before the passenger side window rolled down. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over, then stopped short at the sight of the detective leaning across the seat to look at me.

 

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