by Hamel, B. B.
She gave me an angry stare for a few long seconds and I felt a strange thrill, returning that glare. I liked the way she stood up to me and didn’t back down, though I was bigger and looming and probably looked like I’d just been in a fight—because I had.
“You understand me. I’m not interested in you or whatever game you think we’re playing here. So how about you fuck off and leave me alone.” She turned back to her phone and held it up, tapping away at the screen in what was so clearly meant to be a dismissive gesture.
I was tempted to fight with her. I liked that she was tough, maybe a little feisty—but before I could speak, the door opened and Vincent stepped inside.
“Chen’s on his way,” he said, frowning at the way I stood over Amber. “Everything okay in here?”
“All good,” I said. “Just getting to know each other.”
She snorted. “Yeah, he’s a real nice guy.”
Vincent frowned, clearly uncertain, but gestured at me. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll wait for Chen in the lounge. He’ll get you cleaned up and give you whatever medications you need.”
“Works for me.” I glanced down at Amber. “Looking forward to spending a lot of time with you.”
She gave me a sweet smile. “Go fuck yourself.”
I laughed as I walked over to Vincent. He gave Amber an annoyed look, but shook his head and led me back out into the hallway.
“Now you see why I’m paying so well,” he muttered.
I only grinned at him and let him take me back downstairs.
I liked her, liked her a lot. Not just because she was pretty, although, shit, that helped.
It was that look in her eye. There was an anger inside her, a fire that lit her up and made her shine. She clearly hated me, although I didn’t think it was me she hated, but the idea of me. Something happened to her, and I wanted to get to the bottom of it—the delicious bottom of her.
Maybe this was going to be a good job after all.
2
Amber
Vincent hustled me out to his house in Mt. Airy the next day, accompanied by my hired goon babysitter.
I ignored him. It wasn’t easy though. He was a big guy, broad shoulders, stubble on his face and chin, but he held himself with this strange grace that I couldn’t totally understand. He commanded a room, and I kept sneaking glances in his direction, and caught him looking back at me, seemingly unashamed at being caught. I didn’t know what his deal was, but it annoyed the hell out of me, and drove me wild at the same time.
The Mt. Airy house was Vincent’s wife’s place, a nice, pretty girl named Mona. She met us out front in black pants and a white button-down shirt. She was a few years older than me, with dark hair cut short, and dark brown eyes. She smiled, hugged me, glanced at Ren, then held me by the shoulders.
“You must be Amber. Vince told me all about you.”
“Yeah?” I asked, smiling a little, trying to ignore the way Ren loomed behind me. “I hope it’s all good things.”
And then I saw it, that look in her eye, the look I always saw when people knew about what happened to me: pity, pure and simple. She was thinking, oh, you poor girl, you poor, poor girl, and I hated that, hated it so much. I didn’t need her pity, didn’t need anyone’s pity, but I swallowed my impulse toward anger and kept myself under control.
“Very good things,” she said, draping an arm around me, turning me toward the house. “This must be your bodyguard.”
“Babysitter,” I corrected.
“Ren,” he said, his voice deep and silky smooth. I liked that voice, weirdly enough.
“Nice to meet you, Ren. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”
“I’m not a Leone regular. I do my own thing.”
“Contractor then.” She arched an eyebrow. “Rough time to get involved with the family.”
He laughed. “What can I say, I like a challenge.”
I glared at him, and he grinned back. Mona steered me inside, and Ren followed, carrying our bags.
“You both have rooms upstairs,” Mona said. “It’s the three of us, plus the housekeeper, Janine. You’ll like her, she’s a real peach. Make yourself at home, and I really do mean that.”
The house was a clean, off-white Tudor from the outside, and the interior was warm and cozy, with wood floors, earth-tone walls, and a plethora of hanging oil paintings, potted plants, and small knick-knacks. It was obvious Mona spent a lot of time here, and went to great lengths to get everything set up.
She gave us the short tour: living room with a massive couch and a massive TV; gleaming modern kitchen she swore she barely used; indoor pool in the back she swore she used even less; library off to one side; then our rooms upstairs, each with its own bathroom.
Ren tossed my bag on the bed as I went to get comfortable. He lingered in my doorway before following Mona out.
“Listen, we should have a code.”
I leaned up against one of the posts of my massive four-poster bed. The room had a small sitting area, a large wardrobe, and two big, wide windows overlooking the roof of the pool and the back yard.
“Code for what?”
“In case you need help.”
“This isn’t a spy movie.”
He grunted. “Play along.”
“Caterpillar.” I crossed my arms. “Happy?”
“Happier. If you ever need me, yell that word, and I’ll come running.”
“You got it.”
He nodded, ignored my sarcasm, and left.
I sat on the end of the bed. It was the nicest room I’d ever been in. I felt broken, exhausted, and alone.
* * *
Mona came back, helped me unpack, spent ten minutes chatting about nothing in particular—then excused herself with an embarrassed smile.
“I hate to leave you already, but I’m working on a book, and I was sort of in the zone.”
“Oh, of course, go ahead.” I knew Vincent’s wife was a writer, but I thought she was a journalist. “Don’t let me get in the way.”
She nodded and headed to the door then stopped. “Oh, I have an idea. Any interest in the pool?”
“That’s okay, you don’t—”
She disappeared before I could stop her, then came back a minute later with a swimsuit. It was a simple navy one-piece and didn’t look flattering. She tossed it onto the bed. “That should fit you. Seriously, go for a swim. You’ll love it.”
I gave her a polite smile. “Sure, thanks.”
She nodded and left again without a word.
I finished unpacking quietly, thinking about that bodyguard in the room next door. I didn’t know what we needed a special code word for—as if Mona was going to try and murder me in my sleep or something. But I guessed he was taking this seriously, and I couldn’t be mad about that. Sometimes I wished my father’s bodyguards had taken their jobs more seriously back then, but I can’t change the past anymore.
When my clothes were put away, I sat on the bed, staring out the back window, and I picked up the swimsuit absently. “Ah, fuck it,” I said to myself, went into the bathroom, and put it on.
It fit surprisingly well. Feeling stupid but bored, I grabbed a towel from the closet, put on some shorts, and headed downstairs. I found the door to the pool and stepped into a humid, damp room, took my shorts off, and lowered myself into the pool.
I expected it to be cold, but instead it was almost as warm as a bathtub. I let out a sigh of pleasure as I floated on my back then began to swim laps. I used to swim all the time when I was younger. I joined the high school swim team and even competed in a few meets, but I was never any good. I quit after a while, mostly because it was more work than it was worth, but as I did an easy freestyle down and back, I remembered how much fun it had been to drift up and down the length, not trying to win anything, only trying to enjoy myself.
I killed a while like that before I saw Ren sitting in a chair, watching me with a little smile.
“Fuck,” I said, swim
ming to the far side opposite him. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Just making sure you were okay.”
I glared at him. “How long were you sitting there, you creep?”
“A minute,” he said. “I was going to say something, but you looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“And yet here you are.”
He laughed and didn’t answer.
I climbed out of the water, intensely away of his eyes on my body. He was a good-looking guy, muscular but trim, with light eyes and dark hair slicked back. His pouty lips would’ve made a younger version of myself swoon, but I was over all that, over and done with it. I felt self-conscious, though, and realized that some of my scars were visible— the two on my leg, and the one on my shoulder. I quickly walked to my towel and grabbed it, wrapping it around myself, but too late. I caught him looking with a thoughtful frown.
“We should set up some ground rules, if we’re going to do this for real.”
He looked at me and shrugged. “All right. You played along with me, so I’ll play along with you. Give and take, the bedrock of any healthy relationship.”
I doubted he’d ever been in a healthy relationship, but I didn’t say that out loud. “When I’m swimming, you can’t sit there and watch me.”
“Fair enough.”
“And you can’t follow me around all the time.”
“That’d make me a shitty bodyguard.”
“I have to be able to go for a walk on my own. Hell, I might want to go for a run.”
“I usually do a few miles every day.”
I grunted, annoyed. “Come on.”
He held up a hand. “All right, look. You can run alone, I’ll grant you that, but you can’t go walking alone. It’s too dangerous and you’ll be an easy target.”
I clenched my jaw but nodded. Give and take. “Fine.”
“And when you run, you have to be nearby. Stay within a few blocks. Do loops if you have to.”
I nodded and gestured impatiently. “Fine. Anything else?”
“You’re the one driving this ship, darling.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay then. See, look, I can give things up, too.” He grinned at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Just keep your distance, okay? We’re going to get through this and nothing more.”
“Understood.” His eyes moved down to my legs again, and I knew he was thinking about the scars. I could practically see the question in his eyes, desperate to break free, and I really didn’t want to talk about it. They were too fresh, and a cold ache throbbed in my shoulder, an ache that would likely be there for the rest of my life.
I wasn’t ready to talk about them, especially not with him, and especially not when I was dripping wet.
I interrupted him before he could bring it up. “What’s with your name, by the way?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Ren. It’s kind of weird.”
“You know it’s rude to say that, right?”
I shrugged. I knew it was rude, but I’d rather be rude than have him ask me about the scars. I felt like an asshole, though. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it. My full name’s Renato.”
“Oh,” I said. “That’s a cool name.”
“It’s fine. My family’s South Philly Italians, so I’m more or less a cliché.”
“Are you close with them? Your family?”
“Not anymore.” His eyes were intense and I felt the urge to step away. “Ma died a while back. Dad’s either dead or on a bender, I’m not sure which. Doesn’t matter either way.”
“Sorry to hear it.”
He waved a hand. “Everyone’s got sob story. I bet you’ve got one too.”
I grimaced and knew he was about to ask again. I was tempted to dive headfirst into the shallow end, just to get out of this conversation.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to. An older woman appeared in the doorway, frowning at the two of us. She held a wireless phone in her hand, the sort of phone that would’ve been hooked up to a landline.
“Excuse me, I’m sorry, but there’s a call on the house phone for Amber.” She held the phone toward me. “That’s you, right?”
I nodded. “That’s me.”
“I’m Janine,” she said, and held the phone to me. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you, too.” I took the phone as she turned and walked back inside.
I was still dripping and didn’t want to follow, but didn’t want to take a call in front of Ren. I had a feeling I knew who it was already and wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.
“Do you mind?” I asked him.
He grinned at me and shook his head. “Not at all.”
“Ren.”
He laughed and slipped past me, moving closer than I would’ve liked, before disappearing back inside.
I let out an annoyed breath then held the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, Amber.” My father sounded tired and distant, like the lines that stretched from Chicago to Philadelphia weren’t long enough to transmit him completely. “How are you doing out there?”
“Just got settled,” I said. “Stopped over at Vincent’s place in the city for a few days, and now I’m in a nice house in the suburbs.”
“I hear you’re safe, though.”
“Supposedly.”
“Good. That’s good.” I could hear all the unspoken things in his tone, the apologies, the begging, and I wished I could hang up. “Ah, well, I just wanted to check on you—”
“I want to come home.” I said the words with as much force as I could muster. I wanted him to face it for once. “You know I don’t want to be here.”
“Honey, after what happened—”
“I don’t want to be here.”
“It’s safer there for you right now.” He let out a breath. “Hang around, recuperate, get your strength back.”
“My strength is back,” I said, which was true, or at least as much as my strength was ever going to come back had already returned. “I’m tired of hiding. I want to come home.”
“I know you do, honey, and I swear it’ll be soon. Things are gonna quiet down now, any day, and then I’ll get you on the first flight. I’ll get you another job and things will be okay.”
I clenched my jaw as a jolt of frustration ran through me. I hadn’t thought about my old job in a while—a job that I’d gotten on my own merit, without my father’s help. It wasn’t fancy, just some assistant job in a big marketing firm that specialized in tech companies, but it was a real gig, and I was getting ready to move out of my dad’s place and support myself for once.
And then the accident happened, and all that went to hell.
“I don’t want you to get me anything,” I said. “I just want to come home.”
“Soon, soon.” There was noise in the background at his end. “Okay, honey, I gotta go. You’ll be okay? I’ll call you later.”
“Dad—”
He hung up.
I sighed and turned off the phone. I wandered into the house and found Janine back in the kitchen. She took the phone with a smile then opened the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?” she asked.
“No, thanks, I’m okay. I think I’ll take a bath.”
“What a lovely idea. Do you want anything for it?”
I shook my head. “Thanks, though.” I hesitated then waved and left, heading back up into my room.
I didn’t run into Ren, which I was thankful about. I thought about him as I ran the bath water, my room door shut and locked. I sank into the warm tub and closed my eyes, thinking about his big hands and his charming smile, and how badly I wanted to get the hell out of here. I was stuck in limbo, half-healed but still suffering, unable to move on with my life because of my father and all his bastard friends, and I hated them, hated them so much for what happened to me, and what happened to others like me all the time.
All
those dead people, dead girls and boys and innocents, caught in the crossfire of their war.
I sank back into the tub, and I tried to forget for a few minutes.
3
Ren
At first, the job wasn’t so bad. I hung around that big house, watched TV when I felt like it, bothered Amber when I got bored, and kept out of Mona’s way as much as I could. Things were quiet for a while, but after a few days it started to get real old, real quick.
Amber wasn’t happy. That got pretty obvious by the fiftieth time she told me to go fuck off. Not that I minded if she told me to go to hell, to be totally honest—I sort of liked that she pushed back against me. The girl had spirit, she was a goddamn handful, but I could tell something hung over her. I kept thinking about those fresh-looking scars on her body, so like the bullet wound scars I’d seen on countless other guys, and had a couple myself, but that made no sense. I couldn’t imagine what a girl like her would be doing with bullet scars.
One night, Mona decided to head into the city. Amber watched her go like a sad puppy, and I knew she wanted to go with her, if only to escape the house for a little while. I lingered back in the kitchen as she stomped over to the couch and flopped down, preparing for another scintillating evening of reality TV, three glasses of wine, and sleep before ten.
“Let’s go do something,” I said before she could lift the remote.
Her face popped up over the back of the couch like a prairie dog. Her eyes looked skeptical. “What do you mean, do something?”
I shrugged and gestured around. “There’s gotta be a bar we could hit.”
“I thought I wasn’t allowed out?”
“You’re not allowed out alone.”
She snorted. “So I have to go somewhere with you.”
“Pretty much. You want to have some fun, that’s the deal.”
She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. I wasn’t shy about the way I looked at her, and she didn’t seem like she minded. I caught her looking right back the few times I’d gone swimming and she chose to perch up on a chair, cheering me on while she scrolled through her phone. I think it was her attempt to annoy me for a change, but I happened to like the company.