Layers Peeled

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Layers Peeled Page 13

by Lacey Silks


  And she actually giggled. When the sound of that pure happiness blessed my ears my hope ignited into a full blaze in my heart.

  “This is a beautiful house.”

  Good! Change the topic. Make her feel at ease.

  “Thank you. Sometimes it feels like too much for just two people. Well, soon enough we’ll fill it with a third.” I patted my tummy.

  She gasped. Why would she gasp? Then something struck me. Marissa was holding onto her belly the way I had been, and my face must had drained of all my blood.

  “You’re pregnant, too!” I said.

  “How do you know?”

  “You just told me.” The oldest trick I’d learned to get the information I needed. You didn’t ask a question, but simply made a statement. The natural reaction of the responder will be shock of how their secret leaked out – even if it didn’t.

  “Oh, yeah, I am.”

  “Are you getting medical care?”

  “He got me some pre-natal pills. I haven’t seen a doctor yet. Should I?”

  Ah, crap! Of course you should!

  “I can get you and your baby the care you need, no worries.”

  She let out a long held breath, and I wondered how far I could push her for information about the bastard who’d been pimping his pregnant girlfriend (if I could even call her that) to other men!

  “Who is he? What’s his name?”

  But her eyes welled up again. “I can’t do this, Allie. It was a mistake to come here. I shouldn’t have agreed to this.” She then lowered her voice. “He’ll kill me and my baby. I know he will. Once he has what he needs, he’ll be done with us.”

  “Nothing will happen to you if you stay with me. I promise. He won’t make another dime off you.”

  Chills ran down my spine. Marissa’s fear consumed every muscle on her face. Her lip trembled and her entire body shook, but at least this time she didn’t run for the door. I flipped the switch on the kettle and rubbed my tummy. The kitchen clock showed almost midnight, and we’d have a full day to talk about this tomorrow.

  “How about I make you a tea and you get some rest? Don’t think about him or anyone else. You can tell me when you’re ready. If you want to. No pressure, Marissa, but I am here for you.” I smiled.

  We had chamomile tea, and I switched our conversation to baby stuff. She was excited about having hers as much as I was to have mine. Once done, I showed her to the guest bedroom and folded her clean clothes on the chair in the corner.

  In my bed, listening to whether the alarm on the front door went off, I hardly slept that night. The last thing I wanted was for Marissa to leave. I needed her safe, and I had to find the bastard who was torturing her soul.

  * * *

  With the need to use the bathroom, I woke up at eight in the morning. Surprised it was that late, I pulled on my robe and went downstairs. The door to the guest room was still closed. I checked my phone and when I saw a message from Tristan my heart fluttered.

  T. Cross: Let me know when you’re awake. I have a surprise for you.

  A. Green: Good morning. I’m awake.

  I waited for the phone to vibrate again but instead the doorbell rang. When I opened it, Olivier stood there with a bag of groceries and his briefcase full of knives. He looked like he was ready to cook for an army.

  “Good morning Allie.”

  “Good morning, Olivier.”

  The phone buzzed.

  T. Cross: Surprise! I need to make sure you and Puss are well fed. Off to a meeting.

  “Come on in,” I laughed, assuming Olivier understood Tristan had set this up. “I hope he didn’t make you wait in your car for long.”

  “Of course not.”

  Right, that’s what Olivier would have said even if he’d been here since last night, which I knew he hadn’t because I got in with Marissa after ten. I wondered whether at least she had a good night of sleep.

  “Allie, one of your windows is open upstairs. The sheers are fluttering outside.”

  “What?” I quickly thought about our floor plan. My bedroom looked out to the back, but the guest bedroom had a front view. The moment of confusion passed in a second as reality dawned on me. It was honestly as if someone poured a bucket of ice water over my head.

  No, no, no!

  “You know where everything is, Olivier. I’ll be right back.”

  I ran upstairs, skipping every second step and knocked on the guest bedroom door quietly, and then louder and louder again.

  “Marissa, Marissa?”

  But of course no one answered. After another bang I turned the handle, and as I suspected, Marissa was gone.

  CHAPTER 13

  Finding a rhythm in a life that seemed so unfair was difficult. Not my life, though; that part for once was in check. If Tristan suspected anything from my gloomy mood he didn’t ask, and I didn’t feel like telling him about my recent failure. Every morning I’d open Marissa’s case and re-read it, and for the next two weeks I took the elevator downstairs more often than before. Each time I stood in front of the building, paying attention to every single person who resembled Marissa even slightly, but she didn’t show up again. In the garage I rushed to my car ahead of Tristan hoping to find her there, but without success. I wondered whether she was all right, whether there was a chance she’d packed up her belongings and left the state, alone. That’s what I would have done; after all, that’s what my mother did, and it saved our lives.

  If she’d remained in New York, I hoped the reason I hadn’t seen her was because she’d found a safe place, or that by some miracle her pimp and father-to-be smartened up. I really doubted that. And I really had a bad feeling there was another reason why Marissa was nowhere in sight.

  Laura’s phone rang. After saying “Hello,” she hang up and left. A minute later Tristan came inside and closed the door behind him. He didn’t want a booty call, did he? Not in the middle of the day and without a proper lock on the door! Could he do that? Well, technically, he could do anything he wanted.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, smiling, but when I saw the veil of sadness cross his face I knew his intention was not what I’d thought.

  Tristan didn’t reply.

  A gentle knock sounded on the door, and James followed in without saying a word. He simply sat on the extra chaise by the window.

  Tristan pulled Laura’s chair from behind her desk and rolled it to mine, positioning it right in front of me. He sat down and took my hands into his. I’d just realized they were shaking. Oh, my God! Something has happened to Mom!

  “Somebody please say something,” I whispered.

  “James just got some news you won’t like.”

  Okay, it doesn’t sound like a family problem, then.

  I took a deep breath in and asked on the exhale, “What is it?”

  “I didn’t want you to find it in the papers, but Marissa’s body was found in Hunts Point.”

  And now I knew how ghosts felt, because I assumed I was as white as one, nearly transparent, and the world around me was not my own. The room spun, slowly at first, then faster and faster. I thought I’d started hovering at a moment. Bright spots appeared in front of my eyes and colors shifted into grays, as I felt myself distance from this world, away from the trials and tribulations of a human life. The next thing I knew I was down on the floor, Tristan over me, Laura holding my feet up, and James tucking a straw into my mouth.

  “Allie, are you with me? I’m going to call an ambulance,” Tristan wiped my forehead with a tissue, and then placed a cool wet towel there.

  “No, I’m fine, really.” But my body was spent.

  “Drink the juice, Allie,” Tristan insisted.

  I sucked on the straw. The crispness of the citrus did help, and I slowly regained strength and a sense of where I was. Its coolness traveled down my chest, settling neatly in the pit of my stomach. Then the burst of the sugar revived my senses, and I recalled getting the news about Marissa.

  “Do you remember what
happened?” Tristan asked.

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Can you sit up?”

  I nodded, rubbing the side of my arm.

  “You hit the desk when you fainted,” Laura explained. “But Tristan caught you before you hit the floor.”

  Of course he did.

  Tristan helped me up and sat me on the comfortable lounger. “Allie, there’s nothing you could have done. I know you’ve been looking for her...”

  “...apparently not hard enough,” I replied, and then bit my tongue. Being a bitch to anyone was the last thing I wanted. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Some souls are not meant to be saved.”

  “I felt a connection with her.”

  “Because of the auction and her past?”

  “Yes. Help me up, please.”

  Tristan held me by my arms and sat me down in my chair, never letting go. He kept looking at me with concern, probably for signs of another fainting spell. I could tell my condition weighed heavily on him.

  I didn’t notice when Laura and James left us, but I was grateful for the moment I had to compose myself. I had to get past this. It wouldn’t be today or tomorrow. Something told me I’d grieve for her as badly as if she had been my closest friend.

  “Can I take you home?” he asked.

  “No, it’s better if I lose myself in work. There are other cases needing my attention.” I fumbled with the papers on my desk, unsure of what I was looking for. Perhaps now that I could put a big red stamp on Marissa’s file – “CASE CLOSED” – I could get some decent work done. But deep inside, my heart ached, wishing the reason for closure was not her death. Perhaps I should have stayed with her in her room that night? Would it have changed things? Would she still have run away with me nearby? Addiction was a beast to fight, and unless you had the right support, falling off the wagon was more common than sneezing. Marissa had been addicted to the man who owned her; and now she was gone.

  “I’m going to stay with you, then.”

  “You have a business to run. I’ll be fine. We can talk about it on our way home.” I insisted.

  “Allie, if you need anything, I’m on the other side of the wall.”

  I could tell Tristan felt guilty for needing to return to work. “I know.” I squeezed his hand.

  “OK,” he said, looking at his watch. “Conference call for the next hour, but get me if you need me.”

  “I will.” I kissed him on those luscious lips. The scar lifted higher, making me forget about the news for at least a moment.

  “We’ll get through this.”

  Tristan had Laura come into the office before he left, and he whispered something into her ear. She listened carefully, but as soon as he was gone she stood near the doorway with her arms across her chest and foot tapping. There it was! Laura’s Wake up and smell the coffee look meant a lecture.

  “Whatever you have to say, I really can’t handle it now.”

  “You, Allie Green, will listen to your friend.” She wiggled her finger at me as if I were a grade school student.

  “Okay, let it out.”

  “Don’t let this drain you. There’s nothing more you could have done. This is your job. Just like arriving at a scene of a fatal car accident. These things happen, Allie. And you know that better than anyone else.”

  “Yes, that will convince me.”

  “Ah, come on. If you let this girl get to you, think about how many more might miss out on your help—our help. You will get off this chair, stretch, clear your mind, and work on the next case underneath Marissa’s” – she pointed to the stack on my desk – “because if you don’t, then tomorrow and the day after, a woman we could have saved will overdose, or be raped or sold or killed.”

  Yeah, well, that was blunt enough.

  “I’ll just have to give you some Laura medicine and kick your butt to get over it.”

  “Like you could,” I smirked from underneath my lashes. There was nothing better than a dose of reality from my friend. Laura was right—not that I’d say it out loud. If a doctor mourned a patient who died on his operating table forever, he wouldn’t do another surgery. And didn’t they say the best way to get out of a slump was to take the bull by its horns? Gosh, that’s so cliché. I rolled my eyes at myself.

  “Thank you.” I stood up to embrace Laura, “I really needed that.”

  “I know. And I’m sure I’ll need a rain check when you want to try to kick my butt, too.”

  I pulled away. “Try? You know I would win.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Green. Actually, come with me. I have a temporary cure for you.” She grabbed my arm.

  Within minutes we were sitting in a cab driving to a shooting range. Each mile we’d passed my heart beat faster. Why was I so excited to shoot a gun? But the moment I’d held the pistol in my hands, the cold metal so familiar against my skin, I understood why Laura brought me here.

  “Remember who to focus on!” She yelled over the ricocheting shots.

  Holding my arms in front of me I aimed at the centre target. At first, it was just a black dot. A small pixel I needed to hit. But soon, one shot after another, that central spot became a forehead of the bastard who killed Marissa. My jaw tightened as I pulled the trigger, somewhat hopeful the bull’s eye would somehow manifest itself into the murderer I could punish for his crimes. The smell of gunpowder filled the air as I repeated in my mind: for my sister, for my mother, for Marissa and her child, for the abused women, firing on each count without pause until the load emptied.

  I lowered the gun, removed my shooting earmuffs and gazed at Laura who leaned against the wall behind me.

  “Better?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Definitely better.”

  I couldn’t deny the shooting helped me focus. I had to move on and perhaps one of the other cases would give the lead on the bastard I was looking for.

  Back at the office Tristan was still occupied between meetings.

  Laura on the other hand wouldn’t have any of my sulking and threw a new file on my desk, “Now start on that file. The girls need you.”

  But I wasn’t ready just yet.

  “I’m gonna go grab a coffee downstairs. Do you want anything?”

  “I’m coming with you.” She grabbed her jacket.

  “No, you’re not.” I removed her jacket from her arm and hooked it back on the wall. “I don’t need a babysitter. Now, do you want a coffee or not?”

  “No, thank you. I’ve already had way too much caffeine this morning. At this rate I’ll keep James up all night trying to...”

  “Too much, Laura. Too much.” I opened our office door. Tristan must have been on another conference call which was good because I needed a few more minutes to myself.

  “See you soon,” she said, and started clicking on her computer.

  I grabbed my jacket and took the elevator downstairs. Outside the first snow had covered the sidewalk. The fresh layer blanketed everything in its fluff as I headed for the Starbucks at the corner. I had a feeling we’d have a long winter.

  Waiting in the line, I thought back to that dreadful night at the auction, and the angst I’d felt that night returned. No matter what happened, I had to find a way to move on.

  I approached the counter and placed my order.

  “Hey, Katie!” I recognized the voice, but definitely not the pretty face. After a double-take, I asked with hesitation, “Mercedes?”

  “It’s actually Michelle,” she said as she handed me my coffee.

  Michelle neither sounded nor looked anything like the red-haired Mercedes I remembered. Her brown ponytail waggled as she moved, and the natural toned make-up complimented her flawless complexion much better than the layers of heavy blush and thick mascara.

  “So, you work here too now?”

  “Only here,” she winked.

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Who was the angel who had helped her off the street?

  “I want to thank you too. The card you gave me�
� I called that number on the front and this lady enrolled me at this center. They found me a job here, and everything just rolled.”

  Laura?

  “I’m glad you’re here, Michelle,” I said. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you around here more often, then.”

  “I always knew you were special,” she said to me. “The coffee’s on me.”

  “Thank you.” I raised my cup and sat in the last booth. I needed time for this news to sink in and to catch my breath. Still out of breath from my run downstairs, my lungs ached for a break. I’d heard this could happen while pregnant, but not this early. Wasn’t my stomach supposed to be bigger than a little bump before it left no space for my lungs? With my back turned to the ever-growing line, I leaned my head back. Every time the door opened, a cold gust of wind brushed my side, messing up my hair. The snow outside was piling up on the ground and the flakes were falling thicker. I sipped on my coffee, almost ready to return and start digging through a new case, when I heard his voice.

  “A tall black,” he barked at the server.

  My shoulders tensed and I shut my eyes. If I didn’t hear his voice again for a century, I’d still recognize it. But it had been only thirteen years. Part of me wanted to turn around, go to the counter, and flip him on his back. I’d punch him until he bled to death, and I’d break every single bone I could. In that short moment, I imagined castrating him and throwing his dick to the wolves before pouring salt on the wound for good measure. But another part of me, the one who’d witnessed her mother brutally attacked, invaded my body. I was once again that little girl hiding under the staircase, afraid to move an inch to wipe the snot off her nose. I felt myself sink lower in the cushioned seat. It took three random words for Wright to steal my entire identity all over again. With caution, my hand slid down to my stomach, covering it protectively. And I waited in silence for David Wright to get his coffee and leave. Slowly, I glanced in the window’s reflection, hoping and praying he went the other way.

  But Lady Luck wasn’t with me today. I’d felt it the moment I woke up. Something was off. My instinct screamed to be careful, and I hadn’t known why until now. First it was the news about Marissa; and now Wright, a few feet away from me, separated only by thin glass. My day could not get any worse, could it?

 

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