by G. Benson
“Okay.” Ollie’s voice sounded so trusting.
Carmen was busy gathering the words that were an undifferentiated swarm in her chest. How was she going to tell Ollie that one of the first things she’d really told her had been a lie? That Ollie knew nothing of Carmen’s life?
But, she would plead, she knew Carmen, and Carmen knew Ollie.
Not for the first time, she wished she were at school, maybe in the locker room and pulling off her cleats, sweaty from training and sharing a secret look with Ollie when she walked in after PE.
Or sharing kisses behind stacks of books in the library.
Or sharing notes in lockers.
Sharing a life in general, one that melded and fit and didn’t clash so badly that it left everything feeling like it wavered.
Maybe they’d be arguing because they shared exam time and were stressed, unsure and panicked. After, they’d whisper apologies as they shed clothes in Ollie’s bedroom, trying to be quiet, but giggles spilling over.
Later, Carmen would realize she heard the door open—pushed open so hard it slammed against the wall, while all of this was clouding her mind.
“I want everyone out!”
The voice was loud, and the words took a second to click. Carmen turned, and right then, everything inside her went cold. Under her hand, Ollie’s thigh twitched as she turned to see what was going on. There were five men, their faces pasty and white and glistening with nervous sweat. Each held something in their hands, a length of metal, a plank of wood, a bat. One of them was smacking a pry bar against his leg; another against the palm of his opposite hand.
It looked like something from a bad television show: a ridiculous cliché. Yet Carmen’s hands went clammy. The weight of the cement her blood turned to jarred her, froze her in place. She recognized the one in the middle. His gaze was going from Carmen to Dex and back.
He was the guy she’d knocked out when he’d tried to mug her.
She’d done everything to keep Mattie and Ollie out of this world that lurked in the streets she lived in. But certain things couldn’t be kept out of the habitat they roamed.
Dex caught her eye, the muscle in his jaw clenching. Every hair on Carmen’s arm stood on end.
“You heard me! If you ain’t a worker here, out.” The man looked back to Carmen, his gaze sweeping over Ollie. Carmen’s grip tightened on her leg. “’Cept that one, since you seem so fond of her.”
The regulars hovered a minute, looking from one group of people to another.
“Go.” Dex’s voice was low, a sound Carmen knew.
One by one, the bar patrons slid off their stools and left, all except Ollie. Carmen took a deep breath, slowly, in through her nose. She needed to be centered. The way her heart started racing meant adrenaline was hitting her system; she would get erratic.
“Let her go.” Carmen stared at them, unblinking. “She’s just a customer.” Her heart was in her throat.
The man sneered at her. “No.”
Carmen dug her fingers into Ollie’s leg.
Mattie.
“Who are they?” Ollie asked, her voice a whisper.
Carmen had heard Ollie angry, sad, and, recently, happy…but never scared, and the note struck a chord that left Carmen’s ears ringing.
“The men that gave me a black eye.”
Their ringleader snorted. “You gave us all concussions.”
Ollie was looking from them to Carmen, and everything was coming undone, unwinding in front of Carmen. Mattie and Ollie needed to leave, to get somewhere. But they didn’t know Mattie was here. Should she call attention to that fact or leave him where he was, safe for now?
She looked to Dex again, who had raised his hands and was slowly walking toward Carmen and Ollie behind the bar, distancing himself from the men. “Come on, guys. The girl’s got nothing to do with any of this.”
“Neither do some of my boys here.” The thug cocked his head. “That don’t seem to matter.” That sneer was something Carmen wanted to rip off his face.
Dex ducked under the bar to stand next to Carmen as they both shifted to stand just in front of Ollie. There was a back exit through the storage room. If they could distract them enough, maybe she could get Ollie to grab Mattie and get out of there.
Would there be enough time?
“What do you want?” Carmen asked.
“Payback. See, it took me a few days, once that concussion wore off, but I realized who we’d tried to mug. I realized he—”he indicated with the bat to Dex, jabbing it into the air “—was a part of that bitch’s group who turned me away. Then you all had the balls to knock us out.”
“You had the ‘balls’ to try and take our shit.” Carmen stared him down. “Leave now, and it’s even.”
Her fist clenched. A knuckle popped.
Ollie. Mattie.
He snorted, the guys behind him shifting uneasily. The sound of a door opening behind her made Carmen close her eyes for a second and take a deep breath.
“Carmen?”
He knew not to come out. Never come out. That was the rule.
“I heard yelling.”
Carmen opened her eyes, not looking away from the men in front of her. Some of them glanced at Mattie, eyebrows rising. One shifted, as if uncomfortable. “Go back, Mattie.”
“No.”
Dex turned. “Mattie, little dude, go back.”
Steps, small and light, and then the brush of his shoulder as he stood next to her. “No.”
Carmen put her arm over his chest, her hand cupping his opposite shoulder. For only a second, before she jerked him behind her to stand next to Ollie, she felt through his small chest how his heart pounded hard and fast against her forearm.
“Get the fuck outta here, kid.” The man narrowed his eyes. “One chance.”
Mattie and Ollie stood behind them, the men with weapons in front.
Before Carmen could tell Ollie to grab Mattie and take him through the back, the men stepped forward as one, weapons raised. Instincts brought Carmen in step with Dex as he moved toward them.
She ducked a swing and heard a crack as Dex’s fist collided with someone’s nose. Her knee connected with someone’s groin, the skin under it giving easily and stealing all his breath.
“Get out, Mattie!” Carmen ducked again as two swung in unison, and she could feel the air caress her head as they moved over her. “Ollie! Take him out back!”
Blinding pain lanced over her back as something hit her hard. For a terrifying minute, her breath stilled, her chest spasming, until finally she gulped air, a huge, wonderful lungful of it. Unable to really enjoy it, Carmen turned quickly, her foot rounding into a kick. She hit the person as hard as she could in the diaphragm and kicked again, landing square in his chest. He went down. Her back was screaming.
Dex had blood over his eye. A fist hit her ribs, and something collided with her eye, the same one that had been hit before. She saw stars, then cleared her head just enough to see that someone was swinging again, and she danced back as a small blur stepped in front of her.
“Mattie!”
She tried to grip his shirt, to wrench him backward, and all but throw him at Ollie, but he danced forward, the cotton material falling uselessly past the tips of her fingers. He ducked to avoid a swing and landed a fist right in the man’s solar plexus. It was beautiful, and it was everything they’d taught him, but he was a nine-year-old boy, and they were grown men. The man flung his hand out, catching Mattie in the face in a backhanded motion with a two-by-four.
Her brother flew backward and landed hard, and Carmen’s world bottomed out. Already, though, he was pushing himself up to sit on his knees, wavering. She stepped forward over Mattie so he was half between her legs, jabbed out with her fist to catch the man in the throat
, then used his gasp for air to hit him square in the temple, the softest part. He went down hard, and she kicked again, red behind her eyelids and desperation in her swing.
Mattie was still on his knees, which meant he was okay for now. Carmen stepped forward so he was behind her. It left Carmen between the two guys left standing.
Dex was breathing hard, one eye closed, and then she didn’t watch him anymore as she stepped toward one of the two guys.
Her target was her age, maybe younger. Peach fuzz just barely graced his chin, and he licked his lips, his hands twisting on the handle of the bat in his grip. His gaze darted to the floor, where his friends lay groaning, and back to Carmen.
“You can go,” she offered, the sight of him, the look in his eye too much like her own.
“Fuck you.” His shoulder dipped to easily indicate his swing and trajectory. There was nothing trained about him, about any of them. They all fought with fury, with anger, adrenaline clearly running their systems. With confidence in their numbers.
She ducked once, twice, stepped into his space with her shoulder, driving it into his chest. The heel of her hand came up, breaking his nose with a crack. When he bent forward and his hands came up to cup it instinctively, she drove her elbow down onto his neck.
He dropped like a stone. Dex was already standing over the other, chest heaving for air.
Carmen spun and dropped to a knee, cupping Mattie’s cheeks, her fingers trembling. Red was blooming over one cheek and eye, the entire side of his face swollen already, his gaze unfocused. He blinked almost lazily. But it was the slightest cut, just a smear of blood. It was the swelling that concerned her. The dazed look. “Mattie. Are you okay?”
He swayed a little, then Carmen wanted to shake him as a smile crawled onto his lips, even as they quivered. “I hit him.”
“You did. And he hit you. Shit, Mattie, what were you thinking?”
His lip really was trembling now, his eyes glimmering. Carmen’s throat tightened, sick to her stomach at the memory of how his head had whipped back, the yelp that had fallen from his mouth.
“They hit you.” His voice broke over the words.
Carmen pulled him toward her, wrapping her arms around him as he buried his face into her neck. She looked up at Ollie, whose pupils were so blown that her eyes seemed black. Her phone was to her ear as she stared at Carmen.
There were no words to drag up and give to Ollie. Carmen had nothing, nothing to say. Adrenaline was pumping through her blood, layering her arteries and leaving her breathless and sick with it. Sick with the memory of skin giving under her fist and her brother’s red eye and Dex’s blood. There had been a horrified shout as something had struck Carmen’s back, a shout she was just now realizing had been Ollie’s. “Are you okay?” Carmen finally asked her.
Ollie nodded, the motion jerky.
“Good. Who have you called?”
Ollie swallowed, and Carmen could see her fingers shaking from there. “The police.”
Carmen thought her heart stopped. “The police?”
Her brow furrowed as she looked from Carmen to Dex and back again. “Yeah, of course.”
Carmen didn’t let go of Mattie, turning to stare at Dex.
He looked down at her. “Go through the back.”
“What about this?” Carmen indicated to the groaning men on the ground.
Dex nudged one with his foot, the man already trying to get to his knees. “Get your friends up and get out. The cops are on their way.”
“You called the fucking cops?” The man slurred the words.
Something angry in Carmen hoped his jaw was broken.
Dex’s voice stayed low, chilled. “Get. Out.” He looked back to Carmen, his eyes softening. “The back. Go. Now. I’ll handle this.”
Carmen wrapped her arms around Mattie tighter and stood up, grunting as she pulled him up with her. He wrapped his legs, too long for this but too small for what had just occurred, around her waist. The moment he didn’t complain at being carried out, she knew something was really wrong.
Not looking at Ollie, she walked past her. She could feel Mattie’s heart against her own chest, this time a comfort in its calm, steady thumping. But what had just happened? How had this happened?
“Follow me,” she grunted.
And Ollie did.
Carmen went through the door to the storage room and out the back to the alley, fear crawling up her spine. Or was that pain? Her muscles were laced with fire.
Cops and an underage runaway, with her runaway nine-year-old brother.
“Carmen!”
Ollie’s voice was like a whip, and Carmen thought she cracked in the middle at the sound of it. Her back was protesting, an ache so deep she was worried she’d drop Mattie. Breathing hurt. Ollie was staring at her, and Carmen wanted to move toward her, to let out this feeling filling her chest, to finally sob, to burst against Ollie’s neck and let this girl run her fingers through Carmen’s hair.
But that was not her life. And the police were coming. Mattie was injured and so was Carmen, and she had to move. Now.
“Ollie, I have to go.” And Carmen hated that those were her words.
“Why? The police are—are on their way. They’ll help.”
“No, they won’t.” She let Mattie slide down her body, and he swayed slightly. She gripped him as close as she could. “Ollie, I really have to go. I’m not in foster care, I never was. I didn’t want to do it again. I took Mattie and ran. He’s my brother.”
Mattie’s fingers clutched her shirt, digging into the skin of Carmen’s belly, grounding her, reminding her that he was why she had to walk away from Ollie in what was the worst possible moment to do so.
Ollie deserved so much more than that.
“Carmen…”
“We’ve been on the street.” The words had built for so long they came easily, now. “Dex’s been helping me. Rae too, and some others you don’t know. But if they see us, a minor with her kid brother, we’ll be back in the system, and I’ll never see him again. I have to go.”
Something was breaking over Ollie’s face, and Carmen couldn’t stay to see it unfold. She couldn’t catch her as she fell apart, or stand while she yelled, or even take her help. Carmen needed to go. “Ollie, go up the alley to the front of the bar. Tell the cops you heard yelling and called them but saw nothing. Dex will do the rest. I have to go.”
Carmen bent her knees, hauling Mattie back up and, again, he didn’t protest but wrapped himself around her. Concern bounded at her temples, but for now, she needed to get them away, to the warehouse.
Anywhere but here.
A siren wailed, the sound bouncing off the walls, blue-and-red light filling the space. In her arms, Mattie trembled, his face in her neck. She heard Mattie mumble, so softly Ollie wouldn’t hear from where she stood, “No. Not again.”
His fingers grasped her back and pressed their chests closer together, and her heart broke at words she’d heard what felt like forever ago.
In the red and blue, Ollie looked at her like she didn’t know her. Carmen turned and walked the other way, stumbling through the hole in the fence and clutching Mattie closer.
She didn’t look back.
Chapter 19
Carmen’s arms were aching.
They were like lead, heavy and useless. Against the back of her thigh, Mattie’s heel bounced, his leg floppy, deadweight in her arms.
“Hey, Mattie.” She grunted the words out and paused for a second in an alley, one she was only walking through to try to avoid the looks they’d get on the streets. Mattie was too big in her arms. Her face hurt and was surely bruising already; his must be doing the same. “Mattie.” She gave the word a sharper inflection. Hitching him up her body, she hoped jostling him would get an answer.
&
nbsp; “Mm?”
The sound was sleepy, disjointed, but it sent a jolt of relief through Carmen’s entire body. “Stay awake,” she ordered.
“Mm.”
That’s all she knew—hard hit to the head, and a person needed to stay awake.
She ducked through a hole in some wire, breathing easier at the sight of the warehouse ahead. Her arms were screaming in protest now. If she let herself think about it, the pain radiating through her back and ribs was extreme enough that her arms might give out.
Why didn’t she know more? He could have a concussion. Carmen barely knew what that meant. Something about dizziness and their pupils? Too wide? Like dots? Or was one of those for drugs?
Her mother’s pupils had done both, depending.
With panting breaths, she kicked her foot against the door in a pattern barely discernible as the one required. There was no way she was putting Mattie down now. Not until she could sit him on the sofa.
“Come on, come on.”
The window slid open, Rae’s eyes peering out, just as they had the first time Mattie and Carmen had stood here. But this time, when the window slammed shut, the door opened straight away. Carmen pushed past and heard the door slam behind her.
“What the hell, Carmen?”
Carmen barely registered Rae’s question.
Not many people were in. It was too early. A couple of teens, slightly dirty and skinny, lounged on a sofa, watching them with their arms crossed. The space was mostly empty.
“Move,” Carmen barked.
They blinked at her, then jumped up, moving back and away, their eyes trained on Mattie. At the nearest sofa, Carmen let Mattie slide down her body. He sat on the couch, eyes barely open, swaying slightly. Squatting in front of him, Carmen held him by his shoulders. His bones sank against her palms, as they always did.