by Marni Mann
He didn’t move. Didn’t twitch. Didn’t cry out. There was silence, except for the sound of the engine idling, and stillness, other than the growing puddle of blood.
“Get up, and get in this car, Kyle.”
That voice…I knew it.
Why wasn’t I dead? I should have been. I should have been slumped against the car that I was leaning against, my blood flowing into the street to meet Paulie’s.
The window rolled down even more, and the set of eyes that stared back…
No. This wasn’t happening.
Not with that voice…not with those eyes.
“Kyle, get in this car right fucking now.”
“I…can’t. I ca-can’t mo-move.”
I couldn’t leave. Paulie needed me. He needed me to call the police. No one else around here would do it. If they had heard the sound of the gun, they would back away from their windows. They wouldn’t come outside. They wouldn’t check to see who’d been shot. And if they happened to see something, they wouldn’t tell the police. They wouldn’t tell anyone. That was how it worked around here. So, I needed to stay. I needed to pound my hands on his chest and breathe into his mouth and do something to get him moving.
“I’m not going to ask you again. Get in the goddamn car.”
“No—”
“Don’t make me come out there and get you.”
I’d heard his threats before. I’d seen the results of the people who didn’t listen to him. But until now, I didn’t know that The Heart had sliced open his chest, ripped his heart out, and left him soulless.
It sounded like, if I didn’t get off this pavement and get into his car, I’d be joining Paulie.
I pushed myself off the ground, my knees wobbly, my feet unsteady, as I ran to the passenger door. He opened it from the inside, and as soon as I reached the doorway, he pulled me in. My shoulder smashed into the console; my head banged into the middle armrest. He didn’t wait for me to be seated before he shut the door and took off.
“Stop fucking crying,” he snapped. “Paulie doesn’t deserve your tears. He deserves to be dead, so wipe your goddamn face, and get it together.”
Get it together?
I still hadn’t processed that I hadn’t been shot, too, and I definitely hadn’t processed Paulie’s murder. But every second of it, every bit of detail, was flashing in my head.
Paulie was practically family. I’d seen him almost every day since I was a kid. He’d walked me to the bus stop whenever Garin and Billy skipped school. He’d given me rides, gotten me food. He’d even kicked a kid’s ass when the kid had tried to rob me on my front steps.
Paulie was nicer to me than my own brother.
And I was supposed to stop crying and get it together and act like it had never happened?
Impossible.
This was so deep, deeper than I could even wrap my head around.
Billy. Oh God, what was this going to do to Billy? And to Garin?
And to all of us?
It hurt. It hurt and it stung and it made my stomach churn, and whatever was inside of it was now rising to the back of my throat.
“I have to get out of this car,” I moaned, wrapping my arms around my belly.
“Not a fucking chance.”
“Pull over, or I’m going to puke on your floor.”
“You’re kidding.”
I rocked back and forth, my mouth watering more as each second passed. “No, I’m definitely not.”
He weaved between lanes, already several blocks outside The Heart. “You can puke out the window. I’m not pulling over.”
I hit the button, waiting for the glass to roll down.
There was grinding. This side made the same noise.
Grinding…window…gun…BANG.
It all came back so quickly.
I leaned my face out the window and opened my mouth. Vodka poured out. I’d taken a few sips before I had gone to Garin’s. It was supposed to help take the edge off, so I’d finally have the courage to tell him how I felt.
But nothing could take the edge off of this.
“Don’t get any puke on the fucking car!” he yelled.
I hardly heard him.
All I could think about was that Paulie was dead.
Twenty-Two
Kyle
“Ahh!” I screamed as something freezing and sour-smelling splashed onto my face.
My eyes snapped open and immediately closed again. The mysterious liquid stung my eyes something fierce and burned the hell out of my tongue. It was inside my nose, running down the back of my throat, so potent that I gagged.
“Air,” I gasped. “I…can’t…breathe…”
Something was squeezing my chest, constricting my airflow. I opened my eyes to see what it was, and tears poured from my lids. I tried to blink out whatever was burning them; it only got worse. My vision was blurry, and the light in here was dim, but I was able to see the ropes. They weren’t just on my wrists and ankles. They were circled around each breast, meeting in the middle and weaving into a braid that traveled down my stomach, under my pussy, through the slit of my ass, up my shoulders, and met again at my breasts.
It was a jumpsuit of rope. Tight, scratchy, unforgiving rope. And, every time I moved, the rope tugged against my clit, squeezed my breasts…and prevented me from taking in any air.
“I’ve missed you,” Breath whispered from behind me, his lips pressing against the back of my ear. He tugged my hair, so my neck flew back, my face now pointed toward the ceiling. “I heard you while you two were fucking. You sounded so good; you made my dick hard.”
He rubbed his erection across the back of my head. It was a pathetic hard-on. Disgusting. And it smelled revolting.
“I hoped you were using your fingers. Sticking them into that sweet cunt of yours. Balling them together, so you were giving yourself your whole fist. That’s what it sounded like, so I had to see it for myself. I had to see if I could fit my entire fist in you.” He wrapped his hand around my hair and pulled down even harder. “You know what I found, puta? I found Garin’s cum in your ass…and I didn’t fucking like it.”
His nails dug into the backs of my ears, and it felt like he was piercing my lobes.
“Did you hear me? I didn’t fucking like it. I’m going to make sure my cock is the only one that will ever be inside your ass again.”
He was going to make sure?
“Did you do something to Garin? Where’s Garin? Don’t—”
He yanked the rope until it tightened against my pussy and around my breasts. I felt my skin start to split. When I opened my mouth to scream, he slapped his hand over it.
“I’m going to give you the biggest load your ass has ever gotten. And, while I’m coming in your ass, you’re going to get my fist in your pussy. How would you like that?” He moved to the front of me and straddled my waist, blocking me from looking at anything but him.
The pressure on my thighs tightened the rope. My clit was about to burst.
“Don’t you dare scream,” he warned. “If you want the pain to stop, then you’d better start obeying me.”
I shut my mouth and screamed on the inside instead. I blinked away the tears. I tried to find the tiniest bit of air to fill my lungs. And I searched for the memories of Garin—his face, his eyes, his presence, whatever would get me through this.
Breath leaned forward, his rancid tongue tracing the outer edge of my mouth. When he finished the second lap, his scent stayed on me. It was the only thing I could smell. It felt like I was stuck inside a toilet. No air, just his tongue and the foulest stench.
He grabbed his dick through his pants and rubbed it. “Are you ready for me, Kyle? Ready for me to be inside your ass?”
I shook my head.
“No?” He laughed. “Then, tell me what I want to hear.”
Telling him the truth would only get more people killed. I was sure he was going to kill me, so why not just take the punishment and die with the secret? Why get more people
involved? I was as guilty as the murderer anyway because I hadn’t told anyone what he had done.
“No.” I knew the consequences of giving Breath that answer. I knew things could probably get much worse. But as long as he was only hurting me, then I’d take it. I’d take it to my grave, and I’d save Garin. I’d die without anyone else having to die, too.
“Wrong answer.”
His nails stabbed the top of my nipple. I felt him go through the skin. I felt the skin snap open. I felt the blood seep out.
“No!” I yelled. “I still won’t tell you.”
Garin was there, behind my lids. That scruffy beard that tickled my cheeks as he kissed me. Those hands that gripped my face, not allowing me to look at anything but him. Those beautiful eyes that held me with a type of strength I’d never felt before. I didn’t know where the air came from, but it huffed through my nostrils as I breathed through the pain. And the scream stayed inside me. It simmered, it festered, but it didn’t come through my lips.
Paulie hadn’t screamed. In those seconds it took him to die, he had held it in.
I’d hold it in, too.
“Tough girl, huh?” Breath hissed.
His hand dipped to my pussy. I didn’t think it could do any more damage, and I didn’t think the rope could squeeze my clit any tighter.
I was so wrong.
“Oh, puta, this is going to feel really good.”
He pushed the lips of my pussy against the nylon, so the sensitive skin on the inside ground into the roughness of the rope. I was raw. My clit felt like it had been chewed off. And just when I thought it couldn’t hurt any worse, he shimmied the rope back and forth as though he were trying to start a fire.
The memories of Garin were gone. The air…gone.
I couldn’t keep the screams in. They shot up my throat and shouted from my lips, spit pooling in the corners, tears falling in my open mouth.
“I knew it would feel good.” He stopped and looked down at my lap. “You’re bleeding. But you’re not bleeding enough. I want more of your blood. I want to know you’ll never feel pleasure again. And anytime something touches you down there, I want it to hurt. I want it to always hurt.”
“Do-don’t do this to me-me.”
“Why? Because you’ve been such a good girl? Because you’ve given me everything I’ve wanted? Because you’ve answered every question I’ve asked?” His hand disappeared behind his back and returned with a knife. “You haven’t done any of those things. So, puta, I’m going to make you my own personal coloring book.” The tip of the knife stabbed into my breast. “I’m going to try real hard to stay inside the rope.”
As the knife pierced the skin at the top of my breast, blood squirted from the small hole and sprayed him in the face.
“Stop,” I begged. “Please…stop.”
He stuck his tongue out and caught the drops as they fell from his lip. “I’m just getting started.” His eyes were demonic as he dragged the blade across my skin. Sick and beyond demented.
“I can’t…” It hurt so badly. My tongue didn’t want to work. My voice was gone. My courage and my hope were slipping with each drop of blood that poured out.
When he reached the bottom of my breast, half of it now cut, he smiled from his handiwork. “I’m headed for your pussy next. Do you want to know what I’m going to do to it?” He moved to the side, so I could finally see what was across from my chair. “I’m going to make your pussy look like this,” he said.
When I realized what I was looking at—who I was looking at—I screamed with every bit of strength that was left in my body.
Twenty-Three
Garin
Fifteen Days Ago
I was stepping into my private elevator when my cell phone rang. I knew it was Billy. He usually called around this time, right before I was about to get my dick wet. Tonight was no different. The slut on my arm was some chick who worked at the club downstairs. I wasn’t sure if I’d fucked her before, but she met all the requirements—thick ass, decent rack, eyes that told me she’d take whatever I gave her.
What I was about to give would tear her the hell apart. I wanted her screaming as loud as she was moaning. And when she walked out of my condo, I wanted it to hurt.
I reached into my pocket and put the phone up to my ear. “Billy, I’m going to have to—”
“It’s Mario. Not Billy.”
I looked at the slut next to me. “Hold on a second,” I said into the phone.
I hit Mute on the screen and held the phone against my chest while the elevator climbed to the penthouse. When the door slid open to the entryway of my condo, I walked her inside and pointed at the living room. “Sit there. Don’t move. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
I headed toward my office without waiting for her to respond. I knew she’d sit there and wait for me. She’d wait until morning if that was how long it took me to get back. The girls I brought up here obeyed all of my commands. When they were anywhere inside this building, even on the top floor where I lived, I was their boss. And, if they didn’t comply, they knew there were consequences.
When the door to my office was shut, I brought the phone up to my ear. “Sorry. I wasn’t alone.”
“Pour yourself something stiff to drink, and sit down.”
I pushed my back against the door and looked around the room. There was plenty of booze in here. None of it appealed to me. Whatever Mario had to tell me, I needed to hear it sober. Because the sound of his voice and the sharpness of his demand told me his news was personal.
“Spit it out, Mario.”
He sighed into the phone.
A sound I fucking hated.
“Billy was found about an hour ago in an alley not far from the boardwalk.”
I gritted my teeth together and slammed my fist against the back of the door. “Say it.”
“He’s dead, Garin.”
My heart was beating so goddamn hard that I felt it in my stomach. I reached my fist forward and slammed it back into the door. The wood splintered under my knuckles; pieces of it stuck into my flesh. I didn’t care. I didn’t give a fuck about anything besides Mario’s words that repeated in my head.
“He’s dead, Garin.”
“He’s dead, Garin.”
“He’s dead, Garin.”
Billy Ashe. My best friend.
Dead.
I pulled my hand out of the door and walked to the other side of the room. “How?”
“The needle was still in him.”
“HOW?” I yelled.
“My boys are looking into it right now. I got the call and wanted to tell you before you heard it from anyone else.”
I knew the procedure. When one of us died, Mario’s boys got to the scene first. They’d take what they needed and leave what evidence they wanted the police to find. Billy wasn’t one of us, but Paulie was. Because no one had been blamed for Paulie’s murder, I was sure Mario wanted to see if the deaths were somehow related.
“Send me the pictures,” I said.
I knew he had them. Snapshots of the body, the weapon, the scene, the evidence—it all was part of the procedure. They were immediately sent to Mario along with a detailed report. He usually had it in his inbox before the police even arrived.
There was that sigh again. “I’ll send them over in the morning.”
“Send. Them. Now.”
“He was family to you. You should wait until the morning to look at them. You need a second. Trust me on this, Garin. I’ve lost enough people to know.”
“Send them.”
“Fine…but I warned you.”
I grabbed the picture frame off the back wall and walked it over to my desk. It now sat on top of a stack of folders and stared at me while I took a seat. It was of the three of us—Billy, Kyle, and me. We were in Mario’s basement. We were laughing. We were high.
We were so fucking happy.
“Have the cops filed anything yet?” I asked.
“I hear they’re goi
ng to rule it an overdose because of where he was found and since the needle was still in him.”
So, the police weren’t going to look into it. I wasn’t surprised. It was less work for them that way than pulling together an investigation. One less junkie on the street, they thought.
Billy wasn’t just some junkie. He was my goddamn family. But having the police investigate wouldn’t help me. If there was something to be found, I’d find it on my own.
“Who sold him the junk? Was it us?”
“I’ll have that answer tomorrow. If it wasn’t us—”
“I’ll want his name, Mario, and I’ll want to know who he works for.”
“You’ll have everything you need.”
I flipped the picture over. I couldn’t look at it for another second.
Billy should have been in rehab, sober living, or clean and living with me in Vegas. But dead? Fuck no. My best friend shouldn’t be dead.
He should have been saved.
And I should have been the one who saved him.
“You know we’ll take care of everything—the funeral, any other costs,” Mario said. “Whatever you need, you just tell me.”
“Thanks.”
I wasn’t looking forward to the call I needed to make. Billy’s ma rarely answered her phone. Hell, she wouldn’t have one if I didn’t pay the bill. I just hoped I could reach her before she heard the news from someone in The Heart. She needed to hear it from me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll be in Atlantic City by the morning.”
“I’m sorry, brother.”
“Me, too.”
Seconds after I hung up, Mario’s texts came across my screen.
Leaving my phone on the desk, I went to the other side of the room and poured myself a few fingers of whiskey. I’d heard the news. Now, I needed to numb it. I swallowed down the dark liquid and poured more.
I knew where Billy should have been right now, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t thought about this moment. I’d told myself plenty of times that the day I saw my best friend sober would be the day he was lying in his casket. Still, that didn’t mean it didn’t fucking hurt.
I carried my third glass of whiskey over to the desk and picked up my phone, finally pulling up the snapshots. The first picture showed his face. The shot was zoomed in, his lips dull blue.