Harlot

by Tracie Podger

  “That’s exactly how the girls we do manage to get out feel. That’s why you’re the ideal person.”

  “Tell me about Beau’s friend, the one who got killed?”

  Kieran sat beside me. “You know about his parents?” I nodded my head.

  “For a little while Beau went off the rails, teenage hormones, angst and anger, the usual, because he felt abandoned. Cecelia didn’t know what to do with him. She asked me if I could help, I thought a stint in the army would sort him out. He seemed excited by the thought and went through training without any problems. He made a friend, someone who didn’t have any parents, and I guess they bonded over that. They were both sent off for their first tour, and that’s where it all went wrong. They’d only been out in Iraq for a short while and were sent, as part of a team, to scout for IEDs, homemade bombs. Beau takes everything he does super seriously, his friend was joking around. Beau spotted something on the ground and called to his friend, who stepped straight on it. He lost both legs. Beau got to him and held him in his arms while he bled out. There was nothing he could do and no one could stop the bleeding. But there was a failure, Charlotte. It took too long for help to arrive and Beau got pissed at that. Beau, being Beau, freaked out, punched his sergeant, and was discharged. He had so much anger, and I didn’t think he was someone for normal society, so I put him in touch with an old colleague.”

  “Doing what?”

  “I guess the easiest way to explain is to say it’s a private army, contracted not just to the government but large corporations as well. Say someone was kidnapped for ransom, an employee of a big oil company, maybe. We might go in and get them out.”

  “How is that a private army?” I thought the only private armies were mercenaries who were paid lots of money to start shit in other countries. I vaguely remembered learning something about Angola when I was in school.

  “It’s not what you think. T10 is a legitimate company. Half the guys in the war are contractors; we don’t have enough soldiers to fight a long-term war. They do all manner of things, and it’s mostly on the orders of the government. Beau is freelance. He chooses what jobs he wants to take on; he’s a royal pain in the ass, but one of the best shooters I’ve ever seen. He could hit a hare’s whisker at a mile away. Lately, though, he’s lost focus and I don’t know why.

  “Maybe he’s had way too much to cope with, you, Rachel, Cecelia. Maybe he’s just had enough and wants to settle down for a while. It’s a hard life. At any one minute he can get a call and he’s off. He doesn't know when he’ll be home, if he’ll even get home. Most of the guys can’t stick to that life for too long. Half of them end up in close protection security of some kind,” he said.

  “And the other half?”

  Kieran didn’t answer my question.

  A hulk of man, with a blond buzz cut sat in my kitchen, Kieran introduced us. It seemed that Callan was to babysit me while Kieran went back to work. He was going to shorten his shifts and give Jack more.

  “I’m not sure I need babysitting.”

  “For now, until we know where Paul is, Callan stays here, no arguing.”

  Callan sat stiff backed, looking uncomfortable. “Charlotte, I won’t get in your way but you do have to follow my orders,” he said.

  “Follow your orders? I’m not in the army or whatever you call yourselves, and you aren’t my…” I paused when I saw the look on Kieran’s face. “Whatever,” I said, hating the smirks I received.

  For two days Callan shadowed me around but at least I was in my own house. I missed being at Rose and Kieran’s but I’d insisted on moving out. I decided to repaint some of the rooms, not to erase Cecelia but just to put a little of me into the place with her. Callan was useful that day. We visited the hardware store and he carried the paint cans and all the stuff I needed to get started in the den. He caused quite a stir among some of the locals, and I wondered if they thought he might be my boyfriend. I was happy to let them think what they wanted.

  Kacy paid way more visits than was usual, considering she had to find childcare, and I wasn’t sure the fully made up face, and the skimpy top, were necessary to help me paint a wall.

  It was late into the evening when I finished the last of the den. I opened one of the windows to blast through some cold air and rid the room of paint fumes. I rearranged the furniture until it was exactly as Cecelia and I had envisioned all those months ago. My chair was angled towards the fireplace, and the sofa and chairs faced each other, with a small coffee table between them at the other end of the room. The desk had been moved out into one of the outbuildings, until I could decide what to do with it, and I’d found an old wooden bookcase. It would be perfect for that room. Again, Callan came in handy for shifting that. It would need a rub down, maybe a revarnish, but placed against the cream wall, it fit the room perfectly. I would fill it with books. I pulled the den’s door closed and took a break for a coffee.

  I was pouring the coffee when I remembered the open window.

  “Shit,” I said.

  Callan looked up. “I left the window open, I bet it’s freezing in there now.”

  “I’ll go shut it,” he said.

  We didn’t have many conversations; often it was just a few words, or a command. I had gotten used to him being around the house, though. He wasn’t as obtrusive as I’d imagined he’d be, and whether we had in depth conversations or not, he was company. I hadn’t realized just how lonely living on my own could be.

  Perhaps it was Kieran’s training but when Callan wasn't back in the time I expected him to be, and I hadn’t heard the squeal of the sash as it protested at being moved, I knew something was wrong. I did what I was told to do. I pressed a silent panic button, reached for my purse and retrieved my gun. I checked it was loaded and snapped off the safety catch. I crept to the den, the door was ajar and I tried to peer through the gap. I couldn’t see anything.

  “Come on in, Charlotte,” I heard. I recognized the voice.

  I kept my gun aloft, held in both hands, and I kicked open the door. I stepped into the room, knowing I shouldn’t have but Callan was in there.

  Paul stood behind Callan, in his right hand he held a knife to Callan’s throat, already a small trickle of blood had started to run down his chest. In his left hand he held a gun pointing directly at me. The gun was slightly tilted and his hand very gently shook. That told me Paul was right-handed. The weaker hand struggled with the weight of the handgun.

  “Charlotte, for fuck’s sake,” Callan said, obviously pissed I’d come into the room.

  Callan was twice the size of Paul, but with a knife piercing his throat, size didn’t matter. I was pissed that he was pissed.

  “This is rather cozy, isn’t it?” Paul said.

  “I met your daughter, but I guess you already know that,” I said. He shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t care.

  “And I put a bullet straight through her temple, Paul. It made a satisfying sound as her brain exploded all over the wall,” I heard.

  Beau stepped up behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, extending his hands until they covered mine. We were both holding the gun. Paul became clearly nervous.

  “You’re hiding behind Charlotte? Not wanting to protect her now, are you? Maybe those couple of bullets have you scared,” Paul nodded toward me.

  “No, Paul, this has to be her first kill.”

  I heard the words; I felt his finger gently push down on my trigger one, and I felt the slight recoil as the bullet was ejected from the barrel at a speed I couldn’t watch. I saw red splatter on my newly painted wall, and I was immediately taken right back to the beginning. It arced up in a rainbow shape. I watched Beau take the few strides necessary to punch Callan straight in the face; he fell like a sack of spuds.

  All that happened in less than half a minute, I guessed.

  I wasn’t prepared. I dropped the gun and I opened my mouth and screamed. Beau was in front of me; he placed his palms on my cheeks.

  “Shush, it’s o
kay,” he whispered a few times.

  “You made me kill him,” I shouted.

  “You walked in here with a loaded gun, primed and ready. What did you think was going to happen? Were you going to politely ask him to leave?”

  As Beau finished his sentence, Kieran walked into the room and Callan pulled himself up from the floor. His nose looked broken and blood ran down to his lip.

  “You made me,” I said.

  “Yes, I made you. The first is the worst, it’s over with now.”

  I stared into his eyes, there was no emotion there and I was stunned at just how easy it was for him. He was numb, I could tell that then.

  Beau wrapped an arm around my shoulder as I started to shake. He turned his head to Callan. “Clean this up,” he growled.

  He led me from the room, I wanted to talk to Kieran but I didn’t get the opportunity. Beau walked me up the stairs to my bedroom, he pushed open the door with his foot, and it was as I sat on the edge of the bed that I started to cry.

  “I killed him,” I whispered.

  “We did. I know you killed Damien but to look someone in the eye and pull a trigger, plan their demise, is the hardest thing you can do. You’ve done it now, the next time won’t be as hard.”

  “What next time? Look in the mirror, Beau, your eyes are dead, you’re immune. I don’t want to become immune,” I said.

  Beau sat beside me, he wrapped his arms around me and I sobbed into his chest. I felt him rest his chin on top of my head. His arms tightened around me the harder I cried.

  “It’s going to be okay, Charlotte, I promise you,” he whispered.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever be okay.”

  “You will. You’ll get over this.”

  I looked up at him. “Did you?”

  He stroked some hair from my face and gently shook his head.

  We were two damaged people, thrown into worlds that we had to fight to survive in. We’d seen, and done, some terrible things, separately, and together. A bond had formed between us in that moment. One that would be tested over time, I had no doubt.

  “We’re the same, Charlotte. One day we might figure out all the shit and get our happily ever afters. For now, we just have to do what we do. But you’re not alone anymore. Will you make me mad sometimes? Sure. And I’ll make you so pissed as well. Just focus on the end game, Charlotte. One day, we’ll get there and then we can be free of all this.”

  The state police interviewed me. Our stories were tight, it was self-defence and no charges were brought against any of us. Corey visited a couple of times and Beau disappeared again. It was decided that I’d take a break from the gang, not that I’d actually gotten started with them. I was happy about that. I wanted to reground myself, work at the diner, and decorate my house. Christmas was fast approaching and for the first time in years, I started to get excited. I was going to spend the holiday with Rose and Kieran, and I secretly wished Beau would come home.

  There was a lot left unsaid between us. I’d felt a connection, and was sure he had, too. We would never be more than friends, good friends, I wanted for us to be best friends. We knew secrets about each other, which in itself would bond us for life.

  Slowly life returned to ‘normal’ and I’d always chuckle at that thought. There would never be a normal in the traditional sense. I’d killed two men, I’d witnessed things I never should have, and I knew things that could be dangerous to me. I was living in a world that had jumped straight out of the pages of a novel. Maybe, one day, I’d write that novel.

  Kacy and I had our first night out together. Although we only spent the evening at the diner, neither of us were confident to go to a bar, it was fun to sit and chat. She told me of her time in the cult, without being overly graphic. It was enough to break my heart. I envied her ability to live her life; I was in awe of the fact that she had kept her child.

  “Do you think you and Beau would ever get it on?” she asked.

  “No. We’re friends, neither of us have the ability to form a relationship. I can’t imagine ever having sex with anyone, Kacy. I just don’t feel that way about men. Who knows, maybe one day in the future, things will change, I’ll change, but for now, my body is my own for the first time in years, and I intend to hang on to it.”

  “I can understand that. I want company; do you know what I mean? I’d like a father for my child, does that make me selfish?”

  “No, not at all. I mean, why shouldn’t you have a family?”

  Rose joined us for coffee after we’d eaten our meal. “How are my two favorite girls?”

  “I think we’re all good,” Kacy said.

  “I think we’re getting there,” I replied, laughing.

  “Tomorrow we’re all going Christmas shopping. I’m so far behind this year,” Rose said.

  There were two sides to Rose. The one that sat in front of me getting excited about the holiday, planning the menu and worrying about gifts, and the Rose that had spent her life living right on the edge in a dangerous world totally disguised by her old woman act. I started to laugh and it felt really good.

  The following day, wrapped just in a towel after my shower I heard the front door open and close. I froze on the landing until I saw him.

  “Will you fucking knock? You can’t just walk in here, this is my house,” I told Beau.

  He chuckled. “I seem to recall there is the matter of some paperwork until it is truly yours.”

  “Not the point, I have an arrangement with the owner. Knock next time.”

  “Haven’t had your coffee, I take it?”

  “I’m not grumpy because I haven’t had coffee. I’m grumpy because I’m half-naked and you just walked into my house.”

  “Do you want me to leave? Go out and then knock?” He stood with his hands on his hips.

  “No, I want you to go make coffee while I get dressed.” I stomped away to the sound of his laughter.

  I took my time to dress and then made my way down the stairs. Beau stood in the kitchen holding two cups of coffee, he handed me one.

  “Drink that, and then get your shoes on.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to.”

  “And you’re my boss?”

  “Charlotte…”

  I raised my eyebrows in challenge. “Please, can you get your shoes on? I have something I’d like to show you,” he said.

  “That’s better. See, it’s not actually hard to be nice.” I drank my coffee and found my sneakers.

  I was sitting on the first step of the stairs, tying my laces, when he reappeared. I took my time, he sighed.

  Beau opened the passenger door of the truck and I climbed in. He walked around the front of the vehicle, trailing a hand over the hood as if he were caressing it.

  “Checking me out, were you?” he said, when he joined me.

  “Yeah, of course,” I mocked.

  We drove out of town and it was as we came to a gap in the woods that I realized where we were.

  “Hold on,” he said, as we bumped over the ground and weaved our way through the trees.

  My heart started to race a little at the thought he was taking me back to his house, a place that had caused me such fear. As we cleared the trees, a new wooden cabin rose from the ashes of the old house. Although smaller, it was perfect.

  Beau brought the truck to a stop and we climbed out. He smiled as he opened the door and let me walk in first.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, looking around the open plan hall, living room, and kitchen at the end.

  Something caught my eye. Sitting on top of his dining table was what looked like a piece of metal. I walked toward it. At first I didn’t want to pick it up.

  “Hold it, it’s part of your past, Charlotte.”

  I picked up my old money tin. It was charred, dented, the only thing that I owned that had survived.

  “It doesn’t feel like it belongs to me now, does that make sense?”

  “It does. You’re not that person any
more.”

  I placed the tin back on the table. “How do you feel, being here?” I was conscious that Rachel had been in this house.

  “What was here is gone, along with all the memories. This is a fresh start for me. I’m selling the townhouse and the apartment. I’ll live here. I like the peace and the quiet.”

  “I can’t visit you here,” I said, quietly.

  “I’ll always be wherever you need me to be, Charlotte. And maybe you should learn to drive. It has two bedrooms, you can take one and stay over whenever you want.”

  “Am I allowed just to walk in whenever I want, regardless of what you’re doing?”

  He threw a set of keys. “Yes. Because that’s what friends do.”

  “What if you have company? I don’t want to walk in on that.”

  “Then we’ll have a code. I’ll tie something to the front door as a warning,” he said, laughing.

  He walked toward me, stopping just a foot away. “You’ll be the only woman here, Charlotte. I have no desire to bring anyone else to my home. This is my sanctuary. Piss me off, and I’ll quickly kick you out, of course.”

  For a moment, he stared at me without speaking. “If you bring a guy back here, that will guarantee a fight, you know that, right?” he added.

  “A fist fight only though. You can’t go around shooting people for no reason. And you’ll ruin this nice wooden floor.”

  “It wouldn’t be for no reason.”

  “Beau…” I needed to defuse the situation.

  He smiled at me. “I know. I mean it, though; it’s just you and me, at least here. What you do when I’m not around is your business, but I’ll always protect you.”

  I placed my arms around his waist and he held me to his chest. It was comfortable to be in his arms.

  “I’m not capable of a relationship,” I said.

  “Not yet, but one day. Now, enough mush for today. I want to show you something.”

  We headed back to the truck and he drove toward Whiteling, passing it, and carrying on for a few miles. He hummed along to a tune on the radio and I watched the scenery pass by. He came to a lane and slowed. Although he didn’t turn into the lane, he stared up toward what looked like a collection of wooden barns, with a chain link fence surrounding it.