by Leah Holt
Lifting my hand to his cheek, I ran it up and down, feeling the small coarse hairs. It felt like fine sandpaper, tickling my fingers. My thighs quivered, sending a wave of need up my legs and tangling my gut.
Licking his lips, he pressed his face into my fingers, grunting with fervor that bristled over my skin.
I didn't fear Redd, but what he did to me scared me to death. I wasn't sure what to do with these feelings. My instinct was to roll them all up and stuff them inside like I had trained myself to do.
Because feelings equaled weakness—and there was no room for that in this game.
But these were good feelings; pushing them away would be stupid. I had hoped for a day like this, a time when I would find myself again.
It was here.
Running his thumb over the nub on my wrist, the tips of his fingers massaged my palm. “I'm not looking for you to answer me, Bijou. Because it doesn't matter, I'm doing it, I'm saving you.”
His touch was soothing, and for a split second, I forgot about the dark shadow looming over my freedom.
Is this what it feels like to be normal?
“What do you want from me?” I asked, my hand trembling in his, waiting for an answer.
“I want you to stay here. I want to make this all go away.” His free hand swept my cheek, fingers brushing through my hair. “I can do that—I will do that.”
I stayed quiet, wishing it was that simple.
Not one thing about this was easy. You could say anything you wanted, but it took more than words to move a mountain. And right then, we were standing at the bottom without a damn clue.
Flicking his eyes over his shoulder, Redd freed our hands, reaching for his keys. “Shit, we need to go.” He started towards the door, stopping to look at me. “Come on, we got to go pick up Vicki.”
“Um, are you forgetting something?” Lifting my foot, I shook it. “Shoes?”
“Shoes. . . Yeah, I'm sure we've got something.” Turning around, he walked down the hall. “What size are you?”
“Seven and a half.”
I heard him tumbling around in a closet, tossing things onto the floor. “Here we go!” he yelled, his voice muffled and buried behind the walls.
Coming back into the living room, he held up an old pair of running shoes. The black color had faded off the sides, a small hole was in the tip of the toe on the right shoe, and the tread was nonexistent.
“You're lucky my sister has big feet.” Laughing, he handed me the sneakers and pointed down at me with a single brow arched. “Don't tell her I said that.”
Closing my mouth tight, I drew two fingers over my lips and tossed away an imaginary key. “Got it.” Slipping my feet inside, I laced them up. “Looks like she got some use out of these.”
“Yeah, you're telling me. She doesn't understand the meaning of brakes, likes to use her feet to stop instead. I've been trying to get her to do it right for years.” Shaking his head, he opened the door. “After you.”
How long has he been taking care of his sister?
I was tempted to ask, to dive into his past and learn how he ended up here. But I saw the pain in eyes when he spoke about his mom, and wasn't sure he'd be willing to give me those answers.
Screw it, ask him anyway.
Keeping my head down, I finished tying the shoes and stood up. “How long has it been just you two?”
“Six years.” Speaking softly, he looked up at the sky and then back at the ground as he stepped to the passenger door and opened it for me. “How long were you at that house?” he asked, holding the top of the door as I slipped inside, his lips twitching with a tender smile.
An answer for an answer. That's an equal trade off.
“Two years.” Fiddling with my thumbs, I anticipated more questions. Closing the door, he jogged to the driver's side and climbed in. He didn't ask any more.
Letting out a weighted breath, I kept my eyes out the window. Picking at my fingers, I did everything I could to not let my head go back to that house. I knew it was still fresh, the wound had yet to close.
The flashbacks were horrific, never leaving my mind for more than a minute or two. Then something would remind me of that house, of that man, of everything he stole from me.
Seeing the sky made me think of how much I missed it, seeing walls made me think of where I was kept. The sound of water made my mouth dry instantly, even the food seemed to make me feel more hungry than full.
It was like my body was in reverse, fixated on what it had grown to desire. I had turned into Pavlov's dog, salivating at the ding, just because I was trained to.
Redd's tender hand settled on mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. Looking up at him, he gave me a small smile. I could tell he knew what I was thinking. He didn't know the depth, but he knew the nature of it.
Curling his fingers, he rubbed the back of my hand, calming the tension that started to crawl over my skin. “It will all fade over time, I promise you that.” Thin lines crept up on his forehead, his smile fading into his own memories. “You'll never forget it. The scenery will change, the people will change, and you'll still carry that burden. It's what you do with it that can make or break you.”
Eyeing him curiously, I wanted him to keep talking. His advice came from experience, molded around his life. He wasn't saying it like a parent or therapist might, just to make you feel better. He had lived it.
“I can't wait for the day this all feels like a bad dream and not a reality I'm living in.” Letting my head drift to the window, our hands stayed twined together, and the engine came to life with a roar.
“All you can do is give it time.” Backing down the driveway, he threw it into drive, and we left the safety of his home.
Driving to the school, we didn't talk. The radio was on low, so at least there wasn't the silence to pick away at me.
I could tell Redd was sorting out his own thoughts. His eyes were fixed ahead, hand moving with the same slow strokes against mine over and over again, like he was stuck in some sort of repeat cycle.
I wished I could just read his mind, it would be so much easier if I could. I'd know what he was planning, and I'd know what he was running from. I wasn't sure why I thought he was running, but that's what it felt like. It was in his eyes, in his voice, in the solitude of his home.
Who are you Redd?
Watching the trees pass us by, we drove hand in hand. And I liked it, I liked the normalcy of what we were doing. I didn't recognize the road we were on at first, but as Redd took a right and we came to the first set of lights, my eyes popped open.
Holy shit, I know where we are. . . I know this place.
“Oh my God.” Whispering the words, I plastered my face to the window. “I can't believe this.”
“What?” Redd asked, looking between the road and me. “Did you see something?”
“Yeah, everything. This is where I live, this is my town.” Pressing my hand to the glass, I read every sign we went by. “The library is up here on the left, and that's Hailie's ice cream. We used to go every summer on Saturday night. I can't believe this, he kept me right here. I've been this close to my family the whole time and I didn't even know it.”
Redd sat quietly, and I couldn't get a good read on him. A part of me was excited to be here, I could go see my family. But he failed to show the same excitement I felt. His face was still, eyes staring straight ahead. His lips twitched and moved as if he was talking to himself, but there were no words.
I thought he wanted to get me back to them. . . Why doesn't he look happy about this?
“Redd?”
“What?” he asked, his question short and sharp.
“Isn't this what you said you were going to do? That you were going to make sure I was safely home with my family?”
“That's not what I meant. Not yet, not like this.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Every muscle in my chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. “You said you'd save me, so save me. Bring me back to them.�
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Shrugging his shoulder, his thumb lifted off the wheel, tapping the top. “It's too risky.”
“What? How? I can go to the cops, I can finally ask my—”
“No,” he barked, snapping his head in my direction. “Not yet, you can't do anything yet.”
“Why not?” Sitting up straight, I leaned off the seat and glared at him. “They're here! I should go see them! Why would you tell me no!?”
“Bijou, you're still here and so is he. You said—he had men working for him, you said he has his hand in a lot here. I can't have someone recognizing you and letting him know where you are. Am I really just supposed to drop you off and hope Diablo stays away? No. Just be patient, you'll see your family, but we need to actually fix this.”
“That is fixing it. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Gritting his teeth, his voice scratched out hard. “Nothing is wrong with me, Bijou. But you're not going to be safe at your home. I know that—and so do you.” Whipping his head in my direction, his brows crinkled in frustration.
He wanted me to use my head, he expected me to see it from his point of view. But that was hard, everything I had hoped for was at arms reach now. I just wanted it so badly, it hurt to not be able to touch it.
He's right. I know he's right.
Stuffing my arms into my ribs, I sat back in the seat and turned away from him. I didn't want to admit that everything he was saying was true. Going home would be like hanging a raw piece of meat over a pack of hungry lions.
Diablo probably has someone there waiting for me to show up.
Sulking, I pursed my lips. “I have to do something, I can't just keep hiding.”
“Trust me, Bijou, hiding right now is the best thing for you, and for your family.” Flipping up the thin black handle, Redd turned on his blinker and pulled into the school. “I need you to get down, out of sight. No one can see you.”
Slinking in the seat, I tried to be as small as possible. “Your sister's in high school?”
“Ninth grade.”
“No kidding, for some reason I thought she was a little younger.” Folding my arms, I peeked out the window as he parked against the curb. Buses were pulling up, one after the other, and kids were starting to filter out the double doors.
This is fucking crazy, I went to this school.
The school looked exactly the same as it did when I had been there. Nothing had really changed. The fountain was still perched in the common area off the front doors, dry and water-less just like I remembered. The double doors were the same puke green, and the bushes were cut with the same flat top, like cupcakes with the frosting chopped off.
My first day popped into my head. My father had dropped me off, and I remembered feeling extremely nervous. Grabbing my arm before I climbed out, he told me he loved me and to keep my head up. I had given him a confused look and he laughed, reminding me that he had been my age once and kids could be mean.
'But don't worry my child, you will do fine.' His voice played in my ears, firm and strong.
The thought made my chest pinch and my stomach bubble in sadness. It felt like it had just happened, like my memory was fresh and crisp and had taken place days ago, not years. I could smell the musky cologne he loved to wear and the feel of his hand on my wrist as he tapped the back of my palm and sent me on my way.
I need to see him, I need to know what the hell happened.
How did I end up with Diablo?
I need to know he's okay.
My head was filling with ideas, with ways to contact my father and tell him I was right here the whole time. I was so close, the thought of being right there and not doing anything to see my family was killing me inside.
“Stay down,” Redd whispered softly, glancing around the parking lot and at the school. He looked nervous, eyes darting around anxiously, fingers grinding into the wheel wearing away the grip.
“I am down. No one can see me. Why does it matter anyway? We're at the school, not sitting outside in the open.”
“It matters. You said you lived here, so you went to this school, right?” Flicking his eyes down briefly, his brows knitted hard. Nodding up at him, he rocked his jaw. “Just do what I'm asking you to do.”
I was tempted to jump up and tell him to suck it. I didn't need someone barking orders at me, I had enough of that. But I let it go, refusing to take out my anger on him. It wasn't his fault that my emotions were touchy, it was out of my control, my head instantly reacted defensively.
Watching the kids, I jerked in my seat and sat up straight. Redd threw his hand onto my shoulder, attempting to shove me back down. “Stay down.” Barking through tight lips, he put more pressure on my shoulder. “Get down, Bijou.”
Shrugging him off, I leaned over the dash, and stared out the windshield. My body began to visibly shake and I couldn't stop it.
“Oh my God, is it?” Squishing my chest against the glove box, I squinted. “It is, I know it is.”
My sister. . . That's my sister.
“What's wrong?” Redd asked, noting the shift in my muscles and the look in my eyes. I sat quiet, unable to register his question. “What do you see?”
Pointing to a young girl with copper colored hair and a red bag slung over her shoulder, tears instantly sprang to life. “It's my sister. I need to go see her. I have to talk to her.” Grabbing the handle, I tried to climb out.
I didn't get far, barely cracking the door open wide enough for me to get a leg out. Redd snagged my arm, yanking me back inside. “No! You can't do that, shut the door!”
“Why not!?” Screaming in his face, my chest began to hurt as I tried not to cry. “Let me go! I need to go see her!”
Throwing his body over mine, he grabbed the door and slammed it shut. “Bijou—” he snapped, wrapping his hands around both my arms and turning me to look him in the eyes. “If she's here, and that man is looking for you, then he might be here too. You can't risk it. What if he's got guys watching her? Do you want him to think your family got you out? Do you want to give him a reason to kill them all?”
Sniffling, I rubbed my nose and looked down at the floor. “No.”
“Then you need to listen to me. I'm going to help you, but we need to do this my way. Climb in the back and get down, I don't want to take a chance that someone is watching for you.”
Nodding, I slipped between the seats and fell into the back. Quietly I began to sob, burying my face into my hands.
It was a stupid idea for me to try and reach out to her. I had reacted, not thinking clearly about what I could be leading to her.
She's here, she's okay. Which means. . .
“He's alright, he has to be alright still.” Talking into my hands, I tried to catch my breath and stop my chest from heaving gulps of air. “That's good, it has to be good she's here.”
“It's good, you're right. So don't do anything to change that.” Redd kept his head straight, talking low and barely moving his lips.
I needed to convince myself that seeing her was a sign, a silent confirmation that no one had gotten to them yet. If my father was dead, she wouldn't be in school, she'd be home, or worse—she'd belong to Diablo now.
He's still alive. . . They're all still alive.
“What's she doing?” I asked. If I couldn't talk to her, if I couldn't even sit there and look at her, I wanted him to talk to me. I needed to hear what she was doing.
“She's on her phone, texting I think. I can't really tell from here.”
“Is she looking this way?”
“No, why would she?”
“I don't know.” That was a lie. I wanted her to sense I was there. A part of me could feel her now, and I guess I wanted her to do the same. I wanted her to know I was with her, I wanted her head to come up and glance around, sensing her lost sibling.
“Bijou, I need you to trust me. I will get you back to your family. I promise you that.”
Sighing, I shut my eyes and laid my hands over my chest. “I wish I could bel
ieve you, Redd, I really do.”
It was the pain of seeing my sister and not calling out to her that hurt more than anything. I wanted to run up to her and give her a hug, I wanted to scream her name and see the look on her face when she realized it was me, that I wasn't dead.
What did our father say to her? How did he explain me just vanishing.
Peeking my head up over the trim of the door, I observed my little sister. Lila looked different now, she wasn't the thirteen year old girl I remembered.
Her hair was shorter, the tips colored a deep blue. She had on combat boots that went halfway up her calves and jeans riddled with holes. A small ring sparkled from the corner of her lip, and dark blue eye shadow coated her lids.
Our father let her pierce her lip? I guess everyone has changed since I've been gone.
When I saw her last, she was snuggled up in her bed, reading some book about hedgehogs. Her hair was tied in a braid, her nightgown was covered in puffy clouds and rainbows.
It was crazy to see what time could do. But I knew it was her, she had the same eyes, the same nose, the same splashed birthmark right above her left brow.
And as I watched her from a distance, I cried. I cried for all the time we lost together, I cried knowing that the little girl I saw in my head was now a young woman. She wasn't the same.
Neither am I.
We were complete strangers, connected by blood, connected by past memories and two parents. But in reality, I didn't know the girl I was looking at anymore than I knew the man beside me.
How do you deal with that reality?
How do you find comfort in seeing someone you love and knowing in the same breath that they're not the person you left behind?
Tears stole my skin, soaking my face in years of loss. I knew that if I ever left Diablo's, things would change, I would have changed, no matter how much I tried to keep who I was alive. But I never expected that the world would change without me. It had.
Redd reached into the back, softly stroking my arm, trying to ease the pain I felt. “I know this is hard, and it might get harder before it's all over. But I'll get you back to them, it's just going to take some time.”