Under the Influence

by L. B. Simmons

As she slides into my seat, I offer meekly, “You’re welcome, Pencil. But in all honesty, it should be me thanking you.”

  Her face crinkles and I bend at my waist, stroking her nose from base to tip. “You are an extraordinary gift.”

  A humble smile lifts the corners of her mouth and I give her a wink before shutting her in safely.

  Once we arrive at her house, silence fills the car as we remain parked in front, neither of us ready to say goodbye. With my head resting against the back of my seat, my eyes fall to her mouth, where a wide grin forms.

  “What?”

  She laughs, her expression filled with contagious humor as a smile works its way across my face. She turns in her seat to face me, drawing her legs underneath her.

  “Did you know Cassie asked Rat to prom?”

  An involuntary chuckle works its way into my throat at the thought of Rat attending any occasion where an undershirt and ripped jeans aren’t acceptable dress code. I swallow deeply, grin still present on my face.

  “Is that so?”

  She nods her head. “Yeah, just as friends though. She was supposed to go with Jonathon Hawkins, but … well, after the night at Indigo, Cassie told him to fuck off.”

  My eyes widen with her use of the explicative. In all the years I’ve known her, I’ve never heard that word come out of her mouth. Come and fuck in one night. Call me a bastard, but I kind of like it.

  She giggles at my stunned expression. “Cassie’s words not mine.”

  “Definitely sounds more Cassie than Spencer,” I concede. “Is he going?”

  She laughs again. “Well, I hope so because she bought a killer dress last weekend. I think …I think she really likes him. It’s kind of hard to tell with her, but considering she hasn’t slept with him yet and they’ve seen each other a couple of times over the past few weeks, I think it’s different with him.”

  My brows rise and the corners of my mouth lift further with this revelation. I make a mental note to bust his balls about it, then return my attention to Spencer. “Are you going?”

  Her shoulders lift slightly before she states, “No. I don’t know. Maybe?”

  The bridge of her nose creases with uncertainty and it’s my turn to laugh as I reach over to take her hand in mine. I clear my throat and my tone is surprisingly tentative as I inquire with absolute sincerity, “Would you like to go with me?”

  Wide-eyed, she holds my gaze before responding, “With you?”

  My head dips once in affirmation and she narrows her eyes as she glances upward in deliberation. My heart rate skyrockets with her hesitation until after a few seconds, when she glances back at me with a full smile on her face.

  “Of course, you dope.”

  A chuckle is released through my nose and I lean to kiss her mouth before reclining back into my seat. “Well, then. It’s a date.”

  She smiles and shakes her head, placing her hand on the door handle before glancing at my clock. “It’s late. I’d better get going.”

  My smile falls, but I dip my head. We meet at the front of the car and I place my hand on the small of her back as I guide her to the front porch. As soon as we’re at the door, she turns and rises up on her toes, placing a small kiss on the corner of my mouth. As she descends, I graze her cheek with my knuckles.

  “See you tomorrow?”

  Uncertainty flashes in her eyes and I angle my head in question. “Tomorrow?” I prompt.

  Her mouth curves downward before she wraps her arms around my neck. “I don’t want to let you go.”

  The tremor in her voice pummels my chest. I securely fold both arms around her waist, drawing her tightly against me as I whisper in her ear, “I’m not going anywhere, Spence.” With one arm still holding her, I lean away to place my palm over her heart. “I will always be here. Even when I’m not around.” I wink. “So that will just have to hold you over until tomorrow.”

  Her expression softens as she exhales deeply and nods her head.

  “Tomorrow then,” she responds.

  Grinning back, I lean around her to open the screen door, holding it in place with my body while she unlocks the deadbolt. I place my hand on the knob and press my lips against her forehead before shoving it open. She steps inside and when she turns to face me, the smile on her face renders me breathless.

  “I love you,” she whispers.

  My heart lurches as I state with ease, “I love you too, Pencil.”

  The sound of her giggle hits my ears as she slowly shuts the door. I wait until the locks sound before pivoting around and heading to my car. As soon as I’m in my seat, I inhale deeply, her scent still saturating the air around me. Reaching behind my seat, I grab my Yankees cap and slide it over my mussed hair, the memories of Spencer’s fingers tugging it race through my mind as I pull it low and center the bill.

  My eyes fall to the floorboard, where a clear bottle with amber liquid catches my attention. I lean over and snag it between my fingers, and once I’m upright, I twist the cap and sniff the contents. Spencer’s familiar citrus scent fills my nostrils as I breathe it in deeply. I twist the bottle to look at the front. The words “Love and Happiness” prompt my laughter because if I could bottle a fragrance that is Spencer, that’s exactly what I would call it. Selfishly, I place the bottle in my console, promising myself I will give it back tomorrow as I start the car.

  With the engine idling, I eye her bedroom window, surprised the light hasn’t already been switched on. Although she’s probably talking to her mother, part of me hopes that after time, she will never have to sleep with the lights on again. That I will be enough to ward her from her fears, from the monsters that haunt her sleep.

  Once I’ve pulled out of her driveway, my car idles alongside the curb as I open my glove box to retrieve my phone. The 9mm Rat gave me sits right beside it and the sight sickens me. Shaking my head in disgust, I grab my cell and close the hatch, my mind already churning with ways to get myself out of this fucking mess. I have to. I refuse to drag Spencer through my mud.

  After a quick look in the rearview mirror, I shift into drive. Powering on my phone, I set it on my console and press the gas, my attention alerted when I receive three dings next to me. Rat’s name flashes across the screen and knowing that he only texts when something’s going down, I jerk my car to the right and throw it into park.

  Rat: Meeting with Silas.

  Rat: Where are you, brother?

  Rat: Something’s not right.

  Damn straight something’s not right. In all of our years with Silas, we’ve never had a meet without both of us being present.

  Shit. The texts came through about half an hour ago.

  Spinning my steering wheel all the way to the left, I execute a U-turn in the middle of the street. My foot hits the floorboard and as Spencer’s house flies by, a sudden sinking feeling lands in my stomach.

  The heaviness of worry continues to churn until fifteen minutes later when I’m downtown and right around the corner of Silas’s warehouse. The light in front of me turns green just as I spot Juan’s black Mercedes CLA45 AMG turn onto the street with Rat in the back seat. I slow my speed, allowing a couple of cars to pass before falling in line behind them.

  My eyes remain trained on the Mercedes as I continue to follow from a concealed distance. The gnawing feeling in my gut begins to spread, and my fingers tap nervously on my steering wheel while my left leg bounces uncontrollably as I drive. I crack my neck as the anxiety continues to rise and I find myself strangely comforted by the preparatory ritual. But the feeling doesn’t last long. It’s soothing is lost when I see the Mercedes hang a right onto a very familiar road—one which follows a path deep into the woods, one which is meant to conceal the bodies of anyone who dares cross Silas Kincaid. Bodies Rat and I have had to bury.

  Knowing exactly where they’re heading, I switch off my lights and turn onto the road, coasting to a stop in a location in which I know I can cut through the woods on foot. I reach over the passenger seat, flipping o
pen the glove box and remove the Glock, cocking it before sliding it securely in the back of my waistband before exiting my car. The air is cold as I begin to run. I stay on the cleared path in front of me in order to keep the sound of my boots muffled with each stride I take.

  I know I’m getting close when the sound of lowered voices filters through the stagnant night air. I crouch down as I creep behind a tree, mindful of my steps as to not alert them to my presence.

  I remain hidden, listening intently as Juan’s voice is heard in the distance. “Here.”

  Shuffling occurs before Rat responds. “What the fuck, man? I thought he was in jail.”

  Juan snickers. “Not anymore. He was released on a…technicality.”

  The quaking of Rat’s voice is undeniable as he screeches, “You want me to fucking shoot him?”

  “Silas’s orders. Him...” Footsteps precede the sound of a trunk opening. A whine, then more shuffling . “Or her.”

  “What the fuck did you do to my sister!” Rat’s scream echoes through the baron woods.

  I peek around the corner of the tree, reaching behind me and curling my fingers around the handle of the gun. Rat’s sister Trinity is on her knees, hands secured behind her back and head bent at the neck, lolling around as though she’s been drugged. Her eyes are half-lidded as she tries to lift her head. After a couple of unsuccessful attempts, she gives up and lowers her chin to her chest. Rat bolts toward her, his face frantic, but the cock of a gun stops him cold. I watch as Juan places the muzzle of his own Glock19 right against Trinity’s temple.

  “Your choice,” Juan concludes, his eyes trained on Rat.

  I draw my weapon carefully, sliding my finger over the trigger as I tighten my grip. Rat’s eyes dart to what looks to be Ed Jamison. Beaten and badly bruised, his slumped frame mirrors that of Trinity as his knees are barely able to support his weight. At the sight of him, familiar fury is unleashed and my mouth dips in disgust.

  My eyes slide to Rat, who hesitantly lifts his arm and aims the gun in the direction of Jamieson’s face. His hand trembles visibly as he cocks the hammer, prompting Jamieson to finally raise his head, his face crumbling at the sight of the gun.

  “Please,” he begs, shamelessly. “I will pay everything I owe. I have it all in another account. This has just been a misunderstanding. Please!”

  Rat’s aim begins to quake as tears stream down his face. He looks back to Juan, who nudges the side of Trinity’s head with the gun in response. “Shoot him or she dies. Plain and simple, Rat. Your choice.”

  Rat looks between the two of them, manically shaking his head before he finally turns his gun on Juan. “I never agreed to this,” he states. “I never wanted to kill anyone. I just needed the money for my family.”

  I train my 9mm on Juan, who smirks back at Rat and scoffs. “Did you really think being in the business you’ve been in for the better half of your life, seeing the things you’ve seen, that you would escape without any blood on your hands?”

  Rat remains still as Juan laughs menacingly, the sound empty as it resonates. “You did, didn’t you?” He tsks. “You delusional child.”

  Juan transfers his hardened gaze to Trinity. “Well, I see you’ve made your choice,” he states with an impassive shrug of his shoulders, then pulls the trigger.

  Everything after that happens in slow motion. Trinity’s body slumps to the ground, a red pool leeching into the dirt under her head. Rat releases a blood-curdling scream as she falls. Juan fires off a quick shot into Jamieson’s skull before redirecting his aim at Rat. Rat holds his position with his gun still pointed in Juan’s direction, and my chest constricts as I watch his expression morph repeatedly between the torment of absolute anguish and the tremble of uncontainable rage.

  My own anger spreads like wildfire and blood roars through my ears as I quickly make my decision.

  With my finger pressed firmly against the trigger, I bolt out from behind the tree, running full-force toward the commotion with my gun directed at Juan.

  I pull once.

  But not before another shot is taken.

  Rat’s body folds in half before he falls to the ground, curling into himself as his agonizing cries echo all around me. I continue running forward, watching as Juan grabs his shoulder, my bullet having missed its intended mark. He lifts his head and his blazing eyes meet mine.

  My vision darkens as Rat’s screams pierce my ears and all humanity I foolishly thought I was capable of is lost in this moment. I want nothing more than to see Juan’s motherfucking head blown wide open on the other end of the gun held tightly within my grasp.

  I envision it.

  I welcome it.

  I will it.

  My legs continue to carry me, ducking once as Juan fires another bullet in my direction. It whizzes by my head but I keep running, driven by pure fury. My throat releases a primal, rage-filled cry, and I allow it to reign, preventing the useless feelings of fear and conscience as I willingly approach the gun aimed right at my face. Completely enveloped in darkness and blind to any danger, I launch myself at the ape in front of me as his gun goes off right by my head. The high pitch ring of my ears is all I hear as we hit the ground. My fist strikes hard against his jaw, knocking him nearly unconscious. His eyes roll back into his head as my hands join, intertwining as they wrap around the handle of my gun.

  Adrenaline pumps through my system as I line it right in the center of his forehead and straddle his body with my legs. Angry tears gather in my eyes and pour down my cheeks. “Fuck you, you piece of shit. And fuck Silas too.” I press the muzzle firmly against his head as I add, “Too bad you won’t be alive to deliver the message.”

  His eyes fill with panic and I soak it in, bathing in his blood before it’s even shed. Rat continues to whimper while his sister remains lifeless not even five feet from where we lay. I take in the scene, allowing the sight to fuel my fury as my finger draws tightly on the trigger.

  “Greer! NO!”

  The words barely register before I’m tackled from the side, my body rebounding off another with the impact. Tears continue to stream as we grapple for possession of the gun in my hands, our arms tangling with each roll of our bodies.

  We continue to wrestle until the dust settles and my eyes find focus as they land on the brown stare of a person I never expected to see.

  Lawson.

  It’s saddened as it surveys me, softening slightly as he pulls the gun from my stunned grip. Once it’s removed, he jerks his head in the direction of Rat.

  “Your friend needs you.” He glances toward Juan, handcuffed as he’s taken into custody. “We’ll take care of him. Don’t worry. Silas will never know you were here. I’ll make sure of it.”

  Another cry hits my ears and I jerk my eyes in Rat’s direction, not even bothering to dissect the meaning of Lawson’s words. Nor do I bother to ask him what the hell he and his crew are doing here. All I can focus on is getting to Rat.

  On my knees, I inch myself toward where Rat lies, still curled into a ball. Moisture leaks uncontrollably from the corners of my eyes with the sight of his obvious pain. Only when I arrive does he finally find the strength to unfold his body, wincing as he twists his neck. His tortured brown eyes are overflowing with tears and his chin trembles uncontrollably as he turns his gaze to his sister. It lingers on her as another sob is released, the sound ripping a gaping hole in my chest that I know from this moment on will never be healed.

  He grimaces before breaking his gaze from his sister to meet my eyes. Grabbing my hand, he gasps for air before he speaks. “Get. Out. Now,” he emphatically states, squeezing my hand with each syllable spoken, as though he’s afraid of remaining unheard.

  He coughs and blood spouts before a thick line begins to flow from the corner of his mouth. “You are better than this life. You have a choice. Use your fucking brain … Dante and shit…”

  His strained laugh is concealed as he gasps for air. “If not for you, do it for Spencer. She’s not…” The gri
p on my hand tightens into a vise as he looks once again to his sister before his unsteady gaze returns to my face. “Safe.”

  My jaw tightens with the mention of Spencer’s name and the undeniable truth his statement holds. I clutch his hand tightly and respond in earnest, “I will, brother. I promise.”

  His face relaxes with his grip as he nods. “This is just Purgatory, D. I look forward to seeing you in Heaven. I’m gonna take my pass now.”

  Tears openly stream down my cheeks as memories of the dreadful day I fucking obligated him to this death pass through my mind.

  “Well, Silas. I have a friend named Rat who would also be good at running your errands. You bring him on board with me, you’ve got a deal.”

  As though reading my thoughts, Rat squeezes my hand for the last time. “I would have been here with or without you, brother. Don’t take that anger with you. I see it in your eyes. Just … revenge it.”

  “Avenge?” I ask, my throat constricting until I can’t breathe.

  His chest heaves with laughter. “That’s what I said.”

  My fingers wrap tightly around his hand and my words are fiercely spoken through my clenched teeth. “I will fucking kill him.”

  He dips his head and with one last gasp for air, his eyes fall out of focus and glaze over. I hold his hand until no more breaths are taken. Leaning over, I place my forehead against his and for the first time in more years than I can remember, I weep like a fucking child.

  I weep for the death of my friend, my friend that has been by my side ever since the age of six.

  I weep for the loss of my youth, as it was shredded out of existence with each beating received.

  I weep for my blindness to the evil of Silas Kincaid as he fed on my weakness, hiding beneath the premise of protection.

  I weep for the loss of the most beautiful feeling I’ve ever experienced, a love so freely given, as I’m forced to leave it behind in order to guarantee its safety.

  My head remains against my friend’s as I continue to cry until the overwhelming sorrow begins to transform into concrete resolve and my choice is made.

  I will make this right.