by Bry Ann
I look around the tiny wooden house that carries a cushy couch and a wood burning fireplace.
“It’s perfect, Texas. I love it.”
She beams. “There’s a radio, too! Look.”
She runs to the other end of the house. I can’t help but laugh. She’s acting like the radio is a new invention.
She flips a switch and music blares through the speakers.
“And I don’t want the world to see me
‘Cause I don’t think that they’d understand
When everything’s meant to be broken
I just want you to know who I am”
Iris. This is “Iris” by the Goo Goo Dolls. This can’t be a coincidence. I look at Iris almost in shock. She does not share my sentiment. Her cheeks look like they’ve caught fire.“I-I-I didn’t plan this. I sw-swear. I’m gonna die. I did not plan this!”
I laugh as I stroll on over to her.
“I know, hun,” I trace my finger down her cheek, which makes the redness of her cheeks spread all the way down to her chest. “It’s the radio.”
“I didn’t like… call it in or anythin’.”
“That would take a lot of planning,” I muse.
“Mmm-hmm. Too much planning for me.”
“Dance with me.” “What?!” She gasps.
She straightens, eyes bulging out of her head.
“Before the song’s over, Iris.”
“I… can’t…”
“Eh!” I cut her off. “I don’t want to hear about your self doubt. We’re low on time.”
“And you can’t fight the tears that ain’t coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies”
I take her hand and lead her to the open living room. She’s trembling so hard, I truly feel she may fall over, so I pull her close. Which… I’m not complaining.“I really can’t dance,” she stutters, as I glide her across the floor easily.
“You are dancing, hun. Who told you you couldn’t?” Twirl. Her hair flies in my face before I pull her back into my chest. When she opens her mouth, I realize I don’t need her to tell me. I already know. It’s that piece of shit ex, Wes.“I don’t wanna…”
“It was Wes, wasn’t it?” I growl.
“Oh, but he’s right!” Iris shrieks. “Really. I c-can’t.”
“Babe. You just did,” I whisper as the song ends and the instruments fade away. I lean forward and kiss her cheek before releasing her slowly. If I let her go abruptly, I swear she’d tumble straight to the ground.
“D-d-did you just kiss me?”
“Yeah, hun, I did. On the cheek, though.”
I wink, not really sure what’s coming out of my mouth next, because the fact is, I’m 100% sure I want to take it further. But I’m also 100% sure Iris is not a girl to play around with. She feels everything, deeply. She loves and cares deeply. It’s plain as day to see.
I won’t risk hurting her because I made an off-the-cuff decision in the midst of one precious moment.
I can’t. Derek, you won’t do this.
Iris cups her cheek. “Thank you for the dance,” she squeaks.
“Thank you, and Iris?”
“Yes?” She looks ready to evacuate.
“Whatever Wes told you is false. You sure as hell can dance.”
The look she gives me is one of complete awe.
“Wes wasn’t…”
“I never liked him either.”
We both spin around to find King standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
Nix
“Nix? Are you there? Nix?”
“Sage,” I sigh. “I’m right here.”
I can almost see her nibbling on her nails, legs tucked into her chest in our bed.
“You okay?”
Her voice is barely above a whisper. She’s trying not to seem as worried as she is for my sake, but I know her. I know Sage better than I know anyone. Sage is my girlfriend. Such an arbitrary title for all that she is to me. She’s everything. She’s the reason I see any good at all in this fucked up world.
She’s mine.
But more than that, I’m hers. I’ll forever be hers.
Even if she casts me aside. Hurts me. Rejects me. Hates me.
I’ll be hers. Because I owe her absolutely fuckin’ everything.
“Sage, I’m fine. I told you. I’m just helping my sister out a bit.”To say it lightly…
“Nix, I miss you.”
Again, her voice is barely audible. And this, this is why I’m helping this group of chaotic, criminal and naive individuals, because if I got arrested for all the things I do, Sage would fall apart. And Lacey reminds me too much of Sage to stand down. Not to mention my sister, Rose, is married to one of the men who got arrested. Now, no one can nominate me for brother of the year or anything. I don’t talk to Rose much even though I know she’s desperate for me to. She tries to understand my distance, tries to play off the hurt it causes her, but I know it’s there. I love her. I really do. I just can’t let go of the past. I can’t get over the jealous boy I was growing up. Every time I see her, I see the blonde girl in pigtails running around the front yard, not a care in the world, with my father, when that same man was forcing me to commit unspeakable crimes while he snuck off to fuck my mother.The woman Rose thought was dead.
The woman who abused me mercilessly for who I was.
Aaron Marketta’s son. Yeah, Aaron Marketta. Serial Killer. Dealer. And father. By title only, I assure you.
Not that Rose knew any of this. It’s not her fault. She didn’t even know I existed, but I still can’t get over it.
“I know. Me too. I’m coming home. I promise, doll.”
There’s a squeak on the other end of the phone like she’s biting back tears.
“Pamela misses you.”
I smirk. Pamela is her — our — stuffed hippo. It’s a long story. Sage has lived in hell, and in hell, there are angels. Pamela was one of them. Pamela gave Sage that hippo, and when awful things happened to her, Sage would look at that hippo and hold on. She’d keep the promise she made Pamela in her dying moments, and not let her mind wander off too far. She never let it float off into a place that was unreachable, like so many of the other girls did to protect themselves. So yeah, that hippo is ‘our pet’. No matter how weird it is, that damn hippo is the reason Sage made it out somewhat sane. The reason I get to hold the woman I love. So if she needs me to act like that dang hippo lives and breathes to feel safe, I’ll love that damn stuffed animal with everything left in me.
“Tell Pamela I miss her too.”
She laughs lightly. She knows it’s silly, FYI. We just don’t care.
“Pamela says she’s lonely and has a book hangover.”
I snort. “Well tell Pamela to buy as many books as she needs to get over said hangover.” “Books can’t replace you, Nixon,” Sage replies in an instant whisper.
My face softens. “I love you.”
“Come home.”
“I will, my little fighter.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, doll, I promise.”
“Lacey. Kid, can we see your face?”
I knock on her door for one minute. Two. Three. Four. Ten. No one can get her to leave her room. And, let me tell you, we’ve all been trying. It’s gotta end. We’re keeping her daughter at her friend Radar’s house for now. At least until some of the confusion passes and Lacey does what she has to in order to cope. But we can’t keep her there forever. I’ve been the biggest advocate of giving her space to do whatever, even if it was minorly self-destructive. Now isn’t a time we can worry about things that don’t have life altering consequences, unfortunately. It sounds sick, but we’re on a time crunch here, and I’ve been doing this long enough to become a monster when needed to get the job done.
But now, now, I’m getting scared. No one has seen Lacey, and that terrifies me. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I let something happen to that woman.
“Kid, I’m
gonna kick your door down, yeah?”
There’s a long silence, only filled by the thundering of my heart in my chest. I don’t want to invade her privacy in this way, but I will if I have to.
“Okay kid, one… two… thr—”
“No,” a quiet voice sounds through the door.Click. Click. Click. Click.
The sound of several locks being turned, slid, and pulled echoes quietly in the hall, then the door is cracked open.
“Are you alone?”
“Yeah, kid, it’s just me.”
“Where’s everyone else?” “Cut’s with Maria. Rose is with your daughter.”
The door flies open with Lacey hidden behind it. Once I’m in, Lacey shuts the door, but stays in the shadows. The room is dark. There’s not one ounce of light coming in from anywhere. Worry creeps in and wraps its way around my heart, subtly blocking pieces of rational thought.
“Kid?” I whisper. “What’s goin’ on? Turn on the lights, alright?”
“No. Say what you need to.”
My lip twitches slightly. Besides Lacey’s obvious breakdown, she’s still a tough girl, and I’m still not on her good side. Things went down in the last couple of years, and like always, I had to be the bad guy. I had to be the one to cross lines, do things I didn’t want to, hurt people I loved for the greater good of the cause, and since then, Lacey has taken issue with me. We get along better now, but the snark is still there. I’m not getting into the details of it all here.
I sigh and run a hand through my greasy hair. Showering hasn’t been a priority since my sister’s husband was thrown behind bars.
“I need to see you.”
“Nix,” Lacey growls. Growls. Sweet Lacey.
“You’re not okay, are you, kid?” Crickets. I’m about to ask again when finally…
“It’s none of your business! You know whose business it is? Oh wait, it doesn’t matter, because he’s gone!”
A lamp shatters at the other end of the room.
“Is that what you want to see, Nix? You want to see me break?! Well, here you go!”
Lacey grabs the nearest picture frame and sends it crashing to the ground. I can see her movements in the shadows.
“Lacey.”
“Stay away from me! How much can one woman take? I can’t even end it all because I have a daughter to think about.”
I hear a dull thud. For a moment, I think it’s another object being thrown until I snap out of my shock and realize it’s a human head crashing against a wall. I run through the dark, frantically waving my arms, searching for Lacey’s small form. When I find her, I pull her back into me, thrashing, kicking, and screaming.
“Let me go! Let me go! Get out of here! I hate you! I hate you!” I wait for the exact moment she falls. Her voice croaks and her body becomes heavy in my arms.
“I don’t want to be touched, Nix.”
I immediately release her. I know she’ll fall to the ground, but that’s nothing compared to being touched when you no longer want to be after a past like she’s had.
I slowly walk to the light and let a deep breath woosh out of my lungs before flipping the switch. I’m not prepared for what I’m about to see. I just know it.
I flip the switch impossibly slowly. Whatever it is, this is your fault, Nixon Marketta. You told everyone to leave her alone. You wanted Lacey to cope fast so your plan could work. You have to fix it. It’s. Your. Fault.
In less than a moment, the light is on. Since Lacey has been in the privacy of her room, she isn’t dressed in her usual sweatshirt/sweatpants attire. She’s in boy shorts and one of her husband’s button downs. It’s really hard to tell though. It’s impossible to look past the state of her body. My air stays in my lungs solely because I’ve seen so much in my life, but if I hadn’t…
My body shudders. Subtly, of course. My body is a well-trained machine, it knows not to let weakness like that show.“Alright,” I say, knowing my voice is a little more gruff than usual. “Alright.”
Lacey laughs bitterly. “Alright? What about this is alright?”
She runs her hand down her body.
“Tell me, Nix. What about this is okay? All the training, all the strength I’ve mustered over the years and this is what it’s come to. This is what I do.”
I swallow, staring at the woman curled up, discarded on the floor because she’s terrified of my touch, yet can’t stand on her own.
Her white shirt is loose and stained with blood, hanging off her tiny body. The problem is that, head to toe, she’s covered in cuts: small, large, deep, shallow, nail marks, and marks from a blade. Anything and everything she could mark, she did.“You need to get clean. Get some disinfectant on some of those. Who do you trust?”
It sure as hell ain’t me.
“No one can see me like this,” she whispers, staring at the floor.
I shove aside this image of Lacey and think of Sage. What would I do if this were her? What would I do?I crouch down in front of Lacey, not forcing her to meet my eyes, but getting close enough so she knows I’m here.
“There is nothing for you feel ashamed of, kid. Not one damn thing.”
“I’m a mother. A mother! And I do this. How can I? All he asked was that I be strong for our child, and I failed him. But more importantly, I failed my daughter.”
“No!” I say sharply. “You didn’t fail her. You know why, kid?”
Lacey ignores me. She tries to hide it, but I feel the shame washing off her. It’s drowning this room, making it hard to breathe.
“Because you’re gonna get up. You’re gonna tell me someone I can call to help you. You’re gonna take some deep breaths, sleep in a guest room until this blows over, and go collect your daughter and explain to her, as best you can, what is going on. Then, you’re gonna be strong. Not by pushing this aside, but by feeling it without letting it consume you. That, my friend, is why you are not gonna fail your daughter.”
“My doctor.”
“What?” “My doctor, I trust him to help me. Adam has his number somewhere.”
When my jaw goes slack, Lacey sighs.
“No sense hiding his name now. I think everyone knows who he is now that he’s behind bars.”
Prior to this arrest, her husband’s first name was hidden, for good reason. He’s English, running an Italian-based mafia.
“I’ll find his number. Don’t you worry about that, kid. What now, Lacey?” She looks up at me from the floor and plants her shaking hands on the hardwood. With a quiet grunt and wobbly legs, she pushes up to her feet.
“I go shower,” she says with an exhausted sigh. “I just… go shower.”
Awe. That’s really all I can fuckin’ feel. How this small girl fights so many demons and stands up every single damn time is beyond me.“I’m gonna go meet up with some guys,” your husband and my sister’s husband specifically, “will you be okay?”
Lacey rolls her eyes. “I’ll be fine. Tell Adam I said hi.”
I smirk at her. “Your doctor will be here soon, and kid, cooperate. Your daughter misses you.”
Her face softens and that’s how I leave it. Sometimes Lacey needs a push, sometimes she falls, but overall, Lacey knows how to take care of herself.
It’s what she’s always done.
“Is she okay?” Rose yells, heels padding along the hardwood floor.When I ignore her, she runs faster and hooks her arm through mine.
“Nix! Why are you such an asshole to me? I’m trying to talk to you.”
I still, feeling my heart soften.
“I have to go meet with your guys. I’m not trying to be mean, sis. I’m sorry.”
“I need more than that. Where’s Lacey? Why hasn’t she been to see baby Rose? Did she cut herself?”
The last question comes out in a panicked whisper. I feel my shoulders slump, the only sign I was at all affected by anything in that room.
“Rose…”
Cut’s large body comes into view. Dark hair. Scars. Piercing blue eyes. By his
side is Maria, flashing tits and ass all over the place.
“Don’t you dare try to brush Rose aside,” snaps Maria, pulling away from Cut’s side. “That’s our girl in there. Our girl who we have not seen and has a history of self-destructive behavior. We’ve both studied psychology, if you remember. I’ll have Cut punch your ass.”
I look to said man to see he’s standing there, neutral, no sign of whether or not he’d follow through with that threat. Not that I’m scared. Being punched is not new to me. I believe I felt the first burn of fist to bone when I was five, maybe six.
“Lacey’s struggling,” I admit, “but she’s showering right now. She’ll need a little more time to pull it together, but she’ll come back out soon.”
The girls seem slightly appeased by that, but Cut’s eyes seem to be boring into me. He knows. I know he does. So I nod and give him the signal to intervene with Lacey if necessary. I know he won’t act preemptively and will make a call that’s in her best interest. He doesn’t base his decisions on emotion. That’s what Lacey needs.
I leave there and head straight for prison. As soon as I get over to her husband, I’ll keep my promise and get Lacey that doctor she trusts.
But first, I have to call Sage. I have to make sure she’s okay. I have to stop the erratic thumping in my heart that fears that the broken girl on the floor, covered in blood, cuts, and scars, is her right now.
She’s not. I know she’s not. But I’ll die before I ever let that happen to her. I’m living proof of that now. Because as soon as I’m done with this minor feat, and all these mafia idiots are out of prison, I have my own war to fight.
I’m going to kill Aaron Marketta.
I’m going to kill my father.
Iris
“King!” I yelp, sprinting far, far away from Derek, who’s chuckling under his breath.
“Relax, Iris.”
“What are you doing here, King?” I’m gonna die of humiliation on this trip. I already know it.
“I do own this house so…” He smirks. A rare Kingston smile. “P.S. Blythe wants me to make it known that she did try to stop me from coming down.”