by Ace Gray
I twisted onto my side away from the teal wooden door and let the hopelessness wash back over me. The water soon became cold, almost iced over, just like my heart.
36.
Cole
“They change guards at odd hours. The kids say ten, five, and midnight.” Horse had thought to bribe children with crisp twenties and American candy to take notes on Mickey’s compound. “They say strange howling pierces the walls.” He looked over at me from the driver’s seat of my car and studied me.
I knew what noises the children had heard, the ones that worried Horse. They were the ragged, tortured cry of women servicing Mickey and his sick and twisted friends. I’d heard them for so many years they rattled around in my brain. That they might be Elle’s was a thought that threatened to rattle my very bones.
“Five is before dinner. You and I both know Mickey likes his family supper complete with prayer and a mockery of all things holy.” I sighed, shoving the sick and twisted memories aside. “Midnight must be so everyone gets their fill. He has to hold some sort of prize over them.” The fact that Elle might be one churned my stomach and made my heart race. “I pray to God they’re not at it until ten in the morning,” I finished knowing damn well those prayers were falling on deaf ears.
“So, what do you think is best? Whatever it is, I’m in.” Horse clapped me on the shoulder. “You were just always better at this stuff.”
“Don’t start talking in past tense yet.” I blew out a deep breath and leaned against the bathroom doorframe.
“You really think…?” Horse’s voice trailed off as he started to pick at his nails.
“I have to. We have to. And we have to make it out.” The reality of leading my best friend to slaughter and leaving Elle on the chopping block was too much to handle. I turned and rested my head to the wood my shoulder sunk onto. “I think we need to go in while they’re having dinner. It should mean fewer people in the halls, fewer people to run into. Maybe fewer weapons. Mickey should be occupied for at least part of it.”
“Sounds good.” Horse nodded, his eyes searching the stained carpet of the motel room but seeing something, someone miles away. My whole face crinkled, every second my heart had been hammering Elle, his had been tuned to a different rhythm. One I forgot to pay attention to.
“You shouldn’t come,” I whispered.
“Shut the fuck up.” He shot me a look. “Keep on with the plan. Weapons?”
I blew out a heavy sigh.
“Knives. At least at first.” I closed my eyes already feeling the blood pour across my fingers. “Or snapping necks.”
“I can do that,” Horse said with a smirk. “But I need you to do something for me.” His watery eyes looked up. Determination colored them but something sorrowful too.
“Hey, if you insist on coming, three of us are leaving this shithole tonight,” I answered firmly.
“Just in case, promise me, one favor.”
I went to interrupt but his face was so serious, so sharply creased, I bit my tongue.
“You find him Cole, and you tell him how I tried to crawl.”
The way Horse said it broke my heart but I knew what words he needed to hear.
“I think Conrad said it best.” I managed a small smile that I knew didn’t light up my face. “Save it and tell him yourself. Fuck, leave now and tell him yourself.” The guilt pulled my smile back flat.
“I’m coming, so save it.” He sighed. “There are different kinds of love in this world, Cole, but it’s all worth fighting for. My childhood was dark until I met you. You painted stars in the sky for me, showing me brightness could cut through. While we were stealing cars, and selling drugs, I was falling in love. Sure, it changed over the years, we became this indefinable thing, but who can say they got to keep their first love? Who can say that their first love brought a second, very real one into his life? And shared her? Shared something pure and intimate?” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “And you two perfect puzzle pieces gave me my own missing one.” He smiled so brightly it blinded me for a moment. “I’m not abandoning one for the other. I can’t. It’s not about more or less or his or hers. It’s just us. It’s just love.”
I thought about walking over, pulling him to me and kissing him as if he needed the breath of life, but something about it seemed wrong now. Not that us together was wrong, but maybe we’d just moved forward. We’d found a different, deeper way to love one another. One that gave Elle and Conrad the space to fill the vast majority of our souls.
I didn’t relish in looming death, I never had, but now I was ready. I had Horse, I had precious lives and deeper love to fight for. There was no better way to put my marked soul to work.
“I’ll find him and I’ll tell him if you promise to take care of her if it goes the other way.” I hated that I might not hold her, might not kiss her again, but my life had stopped being about me the moment she’d walked into that terminal.
“You don’t even have to ask,” he said, his voice warm and rich.
“I’m gonna go for a walk, nothing crazy, nothing stupid, I just—”
“Need a minute.” He smiled. “Me too.” He was flipping on his cell as I strode out of the front door.
Out on the street, I started to kick a small rock down the tracks made by the lopsided paver stones. I didn’t need to be in the room to hear the message Horse was leaving for Conrad. I’d say the same words to Elle if I could, I’d make sure she knew.
But the closest thing I had was prayer, and to a God that had to stop listening years ago.
“I know I don’t deserve mercy, I don’t deserve anything but death, but this isn’t about me. She wears wings, big and bold and beautiful. She’s hope and life personified. Elle makes me want to be a better man,” I murmured to the heavens above as I kept kicking the stone down the street.
“Keep her safe if you can but mostly keep her strong. Keep her holding on. Let her feel in her bones that I’m coming for her. Let her know that only death can stop me but even then, just for a little while.”
The very real and vivid picture of me wrapped in the hungry flames of hell but reaching up for her hit me and threatened to take my breath away. Hell I could live with, but her enveloped in fire or being burnt by Mickey was something worse than whatever demons tortured me.
And Horse being dragged down…
“Don’t let him fall beside me. Please,” I begged any god that would listen. “He deserves a happy ending or at least a shot.” My voice had risen loud enough to echo off the walls of the small buildings around me. “So does she.”
The raw caw of a starving and scavenging bird stopped my prayer. The crow circled overhead then landed on the stones in front of me. It pecked at the street then stared directly at me, cocking its head back and forth. Its loud, abrasive screech was enough to wake the dead. It reminded me there was one last thing to pray for.
“And if you’re listening, if there’s any wrath or vengeance left in your repertoire, God, let me tear Mickey Maloney limb from limb as I watch him die.”
The car was partially hidden around the corner, a tarp-covered boat giving us a small amount of camouflage as sunset colored the sky. I adjusted my holster to keep the guns from rubbing on my upper arms. When I shifted in my seat, I felt the knives shoved down against each ankle. The one resting against my palm was hidden except where it hooked between my knuckles; it pressed firmly against my skin when I cracked my knuckles.
“You get the one closest, I’ll take the one farther away. Throat, silenced, then we drag the bodies to the boat.” I was ticking off the morbid checklist.
“Not my first rodeo, Cupcake.” Horse adjusted his grip on his mean looking blade. “Am I leaving Mickey for you?”
My fingers itched at the mention of his name. Seeing him bleed, seeing him cut to ribbons on the floor, made my pulse tick up and red filter into my vision. Yes, I wanted to kill him. Every fiber in my being wanted to splash in his pooling blood. But I was desperate to hold her, too.
“If it works out that way. Getting you two out is all that really matters,” I growled as I said it.
“What?” His voice rang through the car.
“It’s about love in the end, right?” I smirked a mirthless smirk as I used his words against him.
“I think in Mickey’s case it’s about justice too.” His smile matched mine and there in the front seat of the car we’d driven in on so many fucked up errands, two murderers who’d found the path to whatever redemption possible laughed wicked, evil laughs.
We shoved out of the car in sync and started walking soft but sure towards the guards at the front door. Neither of us knew what lay behind those thick wood and wrought iron planks but we’d both said our peace and were ready to face it.
Shoulder to shoulder we strode purposefully toward the men in front of Mickey’s compound, both distracted by the children we’d bribed to shoot off fireworks in the street. We were the light and dark sides of the coin to pay the ferryman we stalked toward them. And when we were only a few feet away they noticed us. It was another two or three steps before they realized what inked devil lurked before them.
One whispered my name in reverence and fear just before my hand closed over his mouth and my hidden blade shoved into his throat. Like always, it was the slightest resistance before metal slid in like butter. Warmth spurted out onto my hand as I slid the blade from left to right. His gurgling breath bubbled against my hand.
I dragged the body as life leaked from it, leaving a trail of crimson in our wake. Luckily, the children had disappeared just as we’d told them to. No one watched as we pitched two lifeless bodies into the rickety boat. And collected their automatic weapons, slinging them over our shoulders and letting the straps rub on equally barreled chests.
We walked back to the front door, this time wrapped in silence and the specter of death. Nothing moved, nothing breathed in the street except for Horse and I as our tennis shoes shuffled against the cobblestones.
“Want me to kick it down?” Horse squared his shoulders and shifted his weight as he faced the front door.
As if on cue, a crow landed on the top of the door and cocked its head to watch us. The light was fading fast but his eyes were old and wise and chocolate just like the bird from a few hours ago. It cawed once, loud and long then looked down at the handle of the door.
“Let’s try the lock first,” I replied as the odd feeling of fate and truth overtook me.
I grabbed the giant handle, and the lock clicked when I tried it. The massive, heavy door swung open to an empty courtyard.
“No one?” Horse murmured as he scanned the recesses between plush palms and soothing fountains.
“Suppose he’s not expecting company,” I said softly as I scraped toward the massive arch that framed the entryway.
“Did you know this place existed?” Horse flattened himself to one side of the wall, still alert for even the whisper of movement. I followed suit.
“I knew places like this existed but he kept me in the dark as much as possible. He knew I wouldn’t stand for…this.” As if on cue a wild moan split the silence hanging in the place. For a moment, I swore it was Elle. My heart ticked up and my breath caught in my throat.
Horse closed the small space between us and clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Get her back,” he whispered as he jerked his head in the direction of the sound. I knew what else he was saying—you lead, I’ll follow.
I was about to, the red had filtered back in and I was ready to face fate head-on when the shuffle of slow and steady footsteps stopped me. Horse and I both pressed back against our weak hiding spots. My hand gripped all the harder at my blade and the smirk of Satan settled on my lips. Horse wore a matching mask of bloodlust. When the footsteps were close enough, we nodded in sync, ready to strike. Ready to dance the dance we knew so well.
But as we rounded the corner I froze. My arm shot out to stop Horse on instinct. The old and weathered woman from Laredo stood in front of me, her glassy eyes watching expectantly as if she’d been waiting for us.
“No fucking way.” I barely breathed the words as she cracked a grin, displaying one or two missing teeth.
“Cole?” Horse pressed against my outstretched arm.
“She’s fine. She’s here to help.” The truth of my words resonated in my bones.
Her smile held firm as she nodded and gestured for us to follow.
“Cole, this is fucking insane,” Horse grabbed my elbow as he hissed in my ear.
“I know. Man, do I fucking know, but…” How did I put this story into words? How did I make it seem real, let alone an intelligent decision to believe in my own little Mexican Fairy Godmother? “You trust me, right?”
“That’s not fair.” He glowered at me.
“We’ve never fought fair. I’m not about to start now.”
Horse eyed me skeptically for a moment then let his hand fall away and we started down a long open hallway after the old woman. She moved quickly for someone so hunched and frail; her footsteps were now soundless against the dark tile. Her head constantly swirled and she massaged her gnarled hands as she walked. I tried to stay focused on the hall, on my surroundings, but I kept seeing the swish of a young hooker’s hips flash before me or dark wings pulse from her back.
I’d broken. It was the only answer. Elle had found a way to band the fractured pieces of me together. She kept the demons from devouring me. And when Mickey had destroyed her, he’d actually done a number on us both. Seeing her body—perhaps even her soul—break, had opened up a ravine inside me and now wicked spirits were spilling out.
On and on through a labyrinth we moved, no one stepping into view. If I’d been thinking clearly, I would have been suspicious. Just when the oddity tickled at my senses, she stopped abruptly. Her eyes narrowed leaving chocolate slits, as she shoved us toward the room just off the hall. Faint footsteps echoed down the corridor. She held her thumb out and dragged it across her neck, making a soft gurgling sound deep in her throat. Horse nodded before I could and reached out for the oncoming footsteps.
He pulled a wide-eyed man I recognized from Chicago into the room. Seamlessly I shoved my blade into his neck, feeling the fleshy give, then warm spray. He struggled for a moment but Horse kept him pinned until he could slowly deposit the lifeless corpse into a warm puddle of crimson on the floor. The grandmother simply nodded and lifted her skirt as she stepped over the body and out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind us.
We turned one corner to find a massive set of carved wood doors. Evil laughter ripped and tore from the room behind it. The grandmother was staring intently at me, waiting for my eyes to meet hers. Something deep and eternal spoke to me from the depths of those chocolate pools.
Despite everything, I smiled wide and genuine down at her, wings, fishnets, and all. She lifted her taloned hands to my cheeks, needing tiptoes to reach. I bent the slightest bit then she pulled my face to her lips, kissing my forehead with leathering lips.
As quickly as she’d appeared, she evaporated, even leaving Horse to look around. I shook my head, laughter still playing on my lips. His eyes went wide for a minute and he looked heavenward before returning to look a little mystified at me.
“Fuck if I know.” I shrugged.
“Maybe God grants wishes to murderous thugs after all.” Warmth filled his voice, even here, even now.
“I’ll wish for happily ever after if you do?”
He smiled then squared himself to the door. I did the same. It felt right to stand at the gates of hell with Horse. We each reached for the guns hanging at our sides and aimed at whatever waited on the other side.
One flick of a barrel had Horse lifting his leg to smash it into the seam of the door. The wood swung violently on its hinges, small pieces splintering off and pinging innocently onto the tile before us.
The world slowed in that moment, each detail etching into my memory. Men all along the table shot to their feet, most reaching for weapons concealed
in the folds of their casual suits. A few of them were packing, leveling weapons at us as raucous voices echoed around the room.
Mickey sat in the middle of it all in a tall throne-like chair his hands steepled in front of him and a wicked smile curling his lips. He didn’t so much as flinch.
And the reason sat just in front of him. The long table was set like Christ’s last supper. Wine bottles polka-dotted the rough-hewn table top, accenting the family style dishes that had been partially devoured. A suckling pig still sat on a platter, picked apart, meat hanging from its skeleton and an apple disintegrating in its mouth.
The pig’s mirror on a matching silver tray was a tiny and trembling body. Flesh seemed to hang from her bones much the same as the pig. She was tied into a ball, her wrists lashed to her ankles in thickly corded rope, putting her perfect pussy and new angry scars on display. Her bony spine ruined the formerly graceful arc of her body as it led to her lackluster and limp gold locks, tied back into a braid. A thick length of rope ran from the tail of her braid to between her cheeks.
Fury split my chest and itched at my fingertips. The image of Mickey’s brains coating the high back of the chair behind him was vivid enough that I wanted to reach out and coat my fingers in it.
The fucking monster had even shoved a bright red apple into Elle’s perfect plump mouth.
37.
Elle
“You aren’t even going to fight me?” Mickey nuzzled against my ear as he finished winding the rope around one of my wrists.
Pain shot up my arm and clawed at my chest. I wanted to scream but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The water welling up behind my eyelids was already disappointing enough.
Nothing.
I was nothing. I was supposed to feel nothing too.
Mickey dropped the long tails of scratchy, fibrous rope to the floor, thumping against my toes as he pressed his body against mine. The pole I’d be forced to dance on later notched against my naked backside and Mickey rolled his hips once or twice just to remind me what he’d been promising for days.