by P. A. Wilson
The bedroom was across the apartment. Across the pool of blood. Monique, already breathing shallowly, put her hand over her mouth and held her breath as she scurried around the room to the half open door.
She turned on the light and closed the door behind her.
The room had been tossed. The mattress, thrown off the bed, was leaning against the bureau. A hole cut in the center of the box spring large enough to have held the bag. The drawers of the bureau were broken and scattered across the floor. If there was something here before Vincent got in, it was gone.
Monique started to shake. She breathed out and tried to stop the panic attack by clenching her fists. The tension transferred the tremors to her legs, and her strength left her. She collapsed into a crouch. She couldn’t get enough air into her lungs, but with each shallow breath she tasted copper and rot.
She had to get out of the apartment. She couldn’t pass out here.
Monique pushed herself up. Still shaking, she stumbled on the first step and leaned a hand against the wall to steady herself. Counting to five, she took another step and then another. She remembered to turn off the light as she left. She continued to shuffle around the mess until she reached the door to the apartment. Turning the final light off as she lurched through the door, Monique made it back to her apartment, locking the door behind her as she gasped in lungs full of clean air.
CHAPTER 8
Monique sank to the floor, her arms around her legs, face pressed into her knees. Her whole body wracked with the shakes. Eventually her gasps for clean air slowed, turning into deep sobs. She hadn’t felt this broken for years.
It was like fate had held onto all of these experiences, deciding to serve them up one after the other in some kind of warped banquet, to see if she would break. Today she’d seen a violent murder, been reminded of her parent’s death, and seen the remnants of another violent end. It was too much. If she could only sleep, maybe it would feel more distant, more like something she could handle.
She knew self-pity wasn’t a good place to spend time. She’d learned that at eighteen. Tears hadn’t changed anything then. It hadn’t brought her mother back. The only way anyone could get through this kind of thing was to push away the emotions and get on with life.
Didi still needed her. She still had to make enough money to pay her bills. Keeping her expectations low meant she didn’t face too many disappointments.
The sobs subsided, and the tremors that rocked her body faded into a strung out feeling that just left her cold and empty. Stiff from the panic attack and the cold floor, Monique forced her muscles into action. Wiping her eyes with her fingers, she shrugged off the last of the turmoil in her mind.
Tea would help. Well, tequila would help more right now, but hiding in a substance-induced peace was how Didi dealt with things. Monique knew that it didn’thelp in the long run. It just added another problem to the growing wall of obstacles to living a normal life. Monique never wanted to fall that far, she had sworn she’d survive her past, not be defined by it. She needed to be strong so Didi knew there was a place up from the bottom.
The simple task of filling the kettle and waiting for the water to boil helped her to move further away from the memory and shock. Despite the pain, Monique swore she was going back to that apartment. Less sure that there would be a clue, she needed to know she’d done all she could to solve this murder. Maybe doing that would help to heal the scar over her past.
Monique knew in her bones that figuring out Alexi’s murder would solve Snake’s, and that would get the cops off her back. She needed sleep. She needed to prepare herself. She needed rest, but not for long.
The reaction to the blood had drained the last dregs of energy from her. But the tea worked its magic releasing the tightness in her muscles. She poured more hot water over the teabag and took it to the living room. Placing the mug on her coffee table, she reflected on the difference between her home and Alexi’s. Not all the mess had been from his death. The man had lived like a pig, wallowing in garbage and disarray. The blood had added a layer of evil to an already squalid life.
Monique rolled herself in the throw and closed her eyes. A half hour of sleep would still give her time before everyone else started their day. There would be plenty of time to search the apartment and recover from the inevitable reaction. She felt sleep drape across her consciousness.
The phone rang, ripping Monique from her dreams. Part of her was relieved, the dreams were not happy ones, and part was furious, she needed the sleep. More than that, she realized, she needed sleep that wasn’t tortured with dreams of death, and pain, and betrayal.
Monique checked the time as she answered her phone, 3:30 am. She’d had twenty minutes rest.
She didn’t check the caller ID. “Yes?”
“Nique, did I wake you? I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Didi. What do you need?” She crossed her fingers that he was still at Andy’s and he wasn’t calling for money. She couldn’t ask the one question that screamed from her mind. If Didi said he was involved with the people who killed Alexi, she wouldn’t know what to do, how to help him.
“Just to talk. I’m kind of scared, Nique.”
She sat up ready for the worst. “Have you been using?”
“I had to, Nique. I can’t be in withdrawal when I go in. Don’t freak, I got it legit. And it was my last time, by tonight I’ll be clean.”
It couldn’t be that easy. If it were, there wouldn’t be any addicts left. “It will be out of your system, Didi, that’s only part of it.”
“Yeah I know. I gotta deal with the head stuff. But, at least, I won’t be puking and sweating for days. That’s the hard part.”
She wished she could let him think that. “Didi, you’ve tried kicking it before. This isn’t the hard part. It’s just the physical part.” No matter what happened in the detox, Didi would have to deal with why he was addicted. She knew why he needed to get away from reality, it was the same reason she panicked at the sight of blood. He just needed to figure out why he turned to drugs instead of something else. The memory of the withdrawals hadn’t kept him clean, but maybe this detox would give him a chance.
“Yeah, I know. Nique, I don’t want to talk about it. I just need to talk about anything else. What were you doing? I called a while ago and you didn’t answer.”
Fuck! Monique hadn’t noticed the missed call. “I was out.” She didn’t want to tell him that Snake was dead, or that she’d been questioned.
“You sound weird.”
Why did he suddenly have to get perceptive? “I had a problem with the apartment across the hall.”
“The murdered guy’s place? What kind of problem?”
What could she say? He wasn’t going to give up, so she had to say something. “I thought I could find a clue. The cops don’t seem to be doing anything about it.”
“It’s not your problem, Nique.” His annoyance at her was plain. “You could get hurt.” No longer worried about the detox, he was in brother mode. He didn’t get much chance to act it, but when he did, Didi tried on the big brother role not his real one. It didn’t work, but Monique was warmed by the fact he could let go of his own problems for a while.
“I got in, Didi. I figured out your lock picks.” Would he be deflected from concern? Could she get him interested in the problem?
He grunted – maybe a laugh. “Good for you. Are you planning on using that skill in your spare time?”
Monique smiled. “No.”
“So did you find a clue?”
“No. It was a mess. I didn’t stay long.”
Didi sighed. “You should have called me. I would have helped you. I could have picked the lock. I could have—”
“Didi, you need to get yourself ready for detox. I didn’t want to bring you into it. I was fine.” She bit her lip to stop speaking. Too many assurances would make him more suspicious. “It’s fine.”
“I don’t believe you.” There was a pause long enough that Moni
que wondered if Didi was going to speak again. He finally broke the silence to say, “Okay, so you are fine. Why do you think you need to find a clue?”
“You are acting very reasonable, Didi. Should I worry about that?”
He snorted. “Give me a break. You keep telling me I should grow up and now that I am acting like an adult you get suspicious.”
Monique felt the rush of anger. “Why is it always about you, Didi? Are you going to tell me I have no reason to be suspicious? How many times have you lied to me?”
“About as many times as you lied to me.” Didi ground out the words. Monique imagined him clenching his teeth in anger like he’d done since he was old enough to do more than just scream out his fury.
She wasn’t letting him off the hook, though. “I only ever lied to you to protect you. You lied to me about using, about stealing. You lied to me to protect your addiction.”
“The difference is I believed your lies. You never trusted me enough to believe.” The familiar whine soured his voice.
Monique heard all the years of the drugs talking through Didi’s voice. It burned her like a hot poker shoved into her guts. Heroin ruined her life because it stole Didi’s. Addiction soiled everything around the addict. Her brother had been a happy kid. That ended in one vicious unexplained act eighteen years ago. “I used to trust you. It wasn’t me who broke the trust, Didi.”
“Fuck you, Nique. I called because I wanted to talk to you before I went in for this thing. I thought you would care that I was trying. I’m scared because maybe I could die. But don’t worry. I won’t bother you. Maybe I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Hearing the words doused her anger. If something happened to Didi – she didn’t want to think about it. For all his faults, he was her only family. “Didi, I’m sorry. I’m tired I shouldn’t have said that... Didi?”
“Yeah, sure. Take care, Nique.” Didi ended the call.
Monique threw her phone onto the table. The tiny amount of rest she’d gotten from the nap was gone. She knew he wouldn’t take her call if she phoned back, and she had no idea where Andy lived, so she could only hope Didi would call as soon as he was done with the detox. He never held a grudge. That was her personality fault. In fact, she remembered that until he was hooked, he rarely fought with her. He had been quiet and calm. She hadn’t known that he was hiding as much hurt inside as she was. Monique thought that keeping him from seeing the scene would somehow stop him from being damaged by it.
She tossed the throw onto the end of the couch and paced between the kitchen and living room. There was no way she could ease herself into another nap. It wouldn’t do any good returning to the other apartment until she dealt with the residual anger from the argument. Even the thought of facing the blood made her light headed. That shot of tequila was looking more tempting. Thank god she was too smart to keep hard liquor at home. Working in a bar gave her the opportunity for an occasional indulgence, and that was enough.
She knew what she needed to do. Reluctant as she was, talking to Rafe was the right thing. If she called him, that would be one less argument hanging out there. Making peace with Rafe would give her the strength to go back in that apartment. She couldn’t let that go either. There were too many threads hanging loose in her life. It was time to start tucking some of them into the fabric again.
Rafe would probably be awake and working. There was no point in delaying her apology any longer. With everything else that was going on, their argument seemed childish, and the easiest of all the problems to fix. She curled up on the couch and called him.
“Hi, Monique, what’s up?”
That wasn’t very encouraging. She’d been hoping for something more like, I’ve missed you. “Didi is going into rapid detox today.” There was a pause after her abrupt speech. Monique wondered if Rafe could sense there was so much more to tell. She didn’t want to dump all her problems on his lap. He already thought she was using him, no need to reinforce that idea.
Rafe finally spoke, “It’s a better way to get the poison out of him. I wrote an article about it last month. Some addicts don’t make it through the other way. Are you going with him?”
“He doesn’t want me to. He’s kind of mad at me right now.”
Rafe grunted in understanding, whether that was of her or Didi, Monique couldn’t tell. She waited again for his response, feeling as though she was passing through a series of tests. If she said the right thing, Rafe would listen to her again. If she said the wrong thing, then she wasn’t sure what they would do next.
“What happened?”
Monique told him, “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“Was it the truth?”
Monique wondered the same thing. She’d trusted Didi all the way up to the time she found out that he’d lied about drugs. Since then she was always waiting for the lies to show their ugly heads. No matter what Didi said, she thought he was hiding something. She never knew if it was the addiction or her brother talking. “Yes, but I didn’t need to say it.”
“The truth is better for him than another lie. Monique, this isn’t your fault. He’s scared and being mad at you is better than worrying about his immediate future. You know that addicts don’t always react like people. Sometimes it’s the addiction. Do you want me to come over?”
It was tempting to say yes, but then she wouldn’t be able to go into Alexi’s apartment again. If she didn’t go back tonight, Monique wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to do it another time. “No, I’m fine.” It was true. Hearing his voice had settled something inside her.
“I can tell you aren’t. What else happened?”
Monique found herself reluctant to talk about Snake, or the police, or breaking into the apartment. “Nothing.”
“Fine, you want Didi to be honest with you. Maybe you should try the same approach.” His words didn’t contain any annoyance. It was like a teacher pointing out a lesson. That almost made it worse. If he didn’t care enough to argue with her, maybe it was too late for them to have a future.
Monique blew out her breath and decided that telling him wouldn’t be any worse than keeping it in. “I saw someone get murdered.”
“Christ, Monique. How can you say nothing else happened?”
She could feel tears burn her eyes and tighten her throat. Monique swallowed and answered in a small voice, “I think the cop suspected me. He knew about my dad.”
“That’s shitty, babe. I’m coming over. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“No!” Monique knew Rafe would stop her from going next door, and she had to do it. She had to do it alone because she couldn’t go through life afraid of violence, and she couldn’t live with the threat of being accused of murder. If the press got interested in this story, her history would be all over the papers, and news, and probably the Internet. How would Didi survive that? How would she? “I’m going to sleep. I just didn’t want to miss you anymore.”
“Monique, stop doing that.” His words were barked out like an order. Not like him at all.
Monique wondered if she would ever be able to have a conversation with someone she loved that didn’t turn into a fight. At any hint there was going to be a disagreement, and she felt herself push back. “Doing what?” she asked fully aware of what he meant.
“You know damn well. Anytime we get into it you shut me down.”
There was no way she would be able to talk about this now. She knew that it was a familiar feeling, and there never seemed to be a time when she could talk about it. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day. Let it be, Rafe, please.” She knew it was a futile request.
“You can’t draw a line around your world, Monique. If you want me to be part of your life, you need to let me in.”
Stomach clenching in fear of his next words, Monique couldn’t stop herself from saying, “If you didn’t want to be in every aspect of my life, it would be easier to let you into part of it.”
“Are you sure you want me in your life a
t all?” His voice was dangerously low. “It’s like you’ve created a map of your world. You are inside the borders of Monique Country and everything else is outside, standing with the dragons, in Terra Incognito.”
“That’s not true. I have plenty of people in my life.” She wished that didn’t sound so plaintive.
“No. You have plenty of people standing on the border, willing to be in your life. But you don’t let anyone in. People who love you don’t want to be in part of your life. They want to be in all of it.”
Tears flowed, and Monique told herself they were from frustration, not from hearing the truth. “Didi is in my life, and you are.”
“You don’t even realize it, do you? Didi is only in your life as long as he needs you to rescue him. If he does manage to overcome his demons, you’ll push him away.”
“Are you saying I don’t want Didi to get clean? Of course I do.”
“You are so missing the point, Monique. Yes, of course you want him to get clean. You need to ask yourself if that’s because you love him, or because then he won’t be a burden. If he can take care of himself, you can push him to the edge of Monique Country with the rest of us.”
Wiping her face on her sleeve, Monique tried to calm down. Rafe knew why she was like this. He knew her history. It had taken a lot of guts for her to tell him when she realized their relationship was going to linger – courage and a fair amount of wine. “It’s because I love him.” She cursed the shake in her voice. If Rafe knew she was crying, he’d think he’d won.
“It’s late, Monique. For once, I think you are probably right and we should talk about this when we’ve both had a good night’s sleep. If you don’t see that you have a problem as bad as Didi’s, you are never going to get help. If you don’t get help, I don’t know how you’ll survive alone.”
“I don’t need help.” And I’m not alone.
“You do, but let’s talk about it later. Get some sleep.”
Monique heard something in Rafe’s voice that scared her. “Wait, what is there to talk about? You can’t expect me to sleep after saying we need to talk. If you have something to say, then say it now.”