Debt

by Nina G. Jones

  “She’s done some fucked up shit, Rex.”

  “Well, so have we.” He throws his butt onto the floor and steps on it. He immediately moves onto a second.

  “Jude’s my sister. All that fucked up shit we see, all that pain she’s in, it’s because she got pulled into my shit and the shit we grew up in. She’s always had my back. Our anger has fueled us, I can’t just turn my back on her because now her anger is inconvenient.”

  “And man, has that anger been good to us. Look at what we have because of it. You have the brains, and the wit, the brawn, and the fucking balls, but it’s always been Jude who lit that fire under you. That shit is slowly killing her, but it’s also the reason you’re rich. It’s the reason we’re off the street and she doesn’t have to turn tricks and you don’t have to scheme. But, just because you don’t give her Mia’s head on a platter, doesn’t mean you are betraying Jude.”

  “Maybe we should have stopped at the getting rich part,” I say.

  We have collected on nearly every debt owed to us: Tripp’s NFL dreams were shattered after we rigged his car and he got into a bad wreck in college. Tucker died as a passenger in that accident. Due to Tripp’s subsequent depression, no one even questioned his later “suicide.” His piece of shit dad died of a heart attack we gave him with an injection of succinylcholine. After both her son and husband tragically passed, I seduced Tripp’s mom. She was too devastated and lost to run Pettit Metals on her own, so slowly, I took over the company and eventually convinced her dumb ass to make me sole heir to her fortune and give me power of attorney. That took two miserable years of my life, fucking that old bag so I could get her millions. When she died, also thanks to my favorite heart attack in a syringe, I sold the entire network of Pettit factories, except the one in Clint. That one I liquidated and shut down just out of spite. I single-handedly destroyed that shit hole of a town. Huck and the other guys, we picked off one by one in various subtle ways. Ways that couldn’t be connected. An unfortunate accident here, an illness or disappearance there. A decade of my life has been solely dedicated to avenging one night.

  But Mia left Clint, escaping all the misery. She made a great life for herself. She had no real connection to Clint that would even make her wince at the factory closing. She has always managed to be unscathed by everything we did. I was saving the best for last. And I had to make sure she got a personal delivery from me.

  I’ll be honest, I have had no regrets. I left a trail of misery, and I have slept very well at night. That is, until the night I reunited with Mia, and now there’s one thing I wish I hadn’t done.

  I haven’t been sleeping as well these days.

  “I know it’s not my place. I get it, I am not really your brother, and I wasn’t there, but whatever you want to do, I support.”

  “Rex, you are my brother, don’t say stupid shit like that.”

  Rex smiles, drinking up that approval he has always thirsted for from Jude and me.

  “All I am saying is, you’ve proven your point, right? Think of all the stupid shit we did when we met. We robbed people, stole shit. What if someone came back for us for the things we did? Mia set it all off, but she wasn’t there. You really think she thought all that shit would go down?”

  I want to tell Rex to shut up, I don’t need any more conflicted feelings than I already have. But, all this time, he has taken orders without question. My only real sounding board has been Jude, who is a growing ball of rage and bitterness. Maybe it’s time I open up the floor to some other points of view. “I get what you’re saying, but we stole because we were homeless kids. The high level shit, the millions of dollars, that was because the Pettits did us dirty first. They owed us. But what Mia did, what they all did, that was pure cruelty. There was no reason other than to inflict pain for personal pleasure.”

  “You know better than me. But do you think she’s really that cruel? I have been watching her for years, following her, looking through her shit. I never felt like I was watching some cold-blooded bitch. She’s quiet, she works hard, she is loved.”

  “I fucking know,” I say, shaking my head. It doesn’t add up.

  “I’m just giving you my two cents. Do what you will with it. But Jude’s chompin’ at the bit. So, if you are going to make the call, make it soon, or shit is going to blow up. She’s like a powder keg,” Rex says, tossing his half-smoked cigarette to the floor. “Alright, I am going to find Jude and talk some sense into her.”

  A.K.A. fuck her brains out.

  It works though. Whenever she’s pissed at me, Rex helps calm her, convinces her to give me space. He reasons with her. Shit, I guess he does that for me too.

  Rex exits the balcony without saying another word, leaving me alone to contemplate my next move. I need to buy significant time.

  Jude is a pain in the ass when she gets in these moods, but she is my sister, my ally. No one understands what we went through. They can try to imagine, but they will never understand. Jude will always be a part of my life. And who she is today is because she had my back fourteen years ago. I owe her something. But maybe it’s not death, maybe it’s life.

  Maybe there is a way I can have Mia and Jude.

  I slip into Mia’s dark, quiet house. She has been running errands all day today and yesterday, in preparation for her trip, leaving me with plenty of time to slip into her house to do a little recon.

  I know what I am doing is fucked up on so many levels. But, I see no other way to save her life and cool down my sister. I can keep delaying things, telling Jude I am working on the long game, but it’ll always be a temporary solution. I need something to snuff Jude’s anger and she only has one weak spot.

  Mia might hate me forever, but I have already dug a hole so deep that she will hate no matter what when she learns of all the things I did. This is a long-term plan to keep her alive, even if I lose her in the end.

  I enter her bathroom and open the drawer where she keeps her disc of birth control pills. I count the number of empty pill bubbles, and take the replacement one I brought and pop out the same number of pills. The perks of formerly being a hustler: plenty of connects in illicit pharmaceuticals.

  I slide the new disc of one-hundred percent placebos into her vanity and pocket her pills. Pivot.

  Now we wait.

  14 Years Earlier

  Everything seems fine on the outside. Every day I sit in the cafeteria and listen to my friends talk about their huge problems: who’s going to make the cheer team, does Huck like Jessica, or how much they hate whatever the fuck Sara Toms is wearing. On the exterior, I am my usual self. I don’t like to drag people down with my personal issues, but this week has been really hard. My mom has gotten really sick. This has happened before, she has taken a bad turn and then had a miraculous recovery, and I am sure it’ll happen again, but I can’t help but think about her when I am at school.

  My parents insist I don’t miss school. They don’t want my life to be constantly disrupted since mom’s always in and out of the hospital. Mom’s illness has put a lot of things into perspective. From my relationship with Tripp, which seems to be more about him being interested in what’s in my pants than my head, to my friends who seem to think life begins and ends here in Clint. I just feel different.

  Anyway, I’ve decided one day I am getting out of here. Only a couple more years and then I am going to college out of state and leaving this town behind for good.

  I walk towards my locker after last period, anxious to get home and see how my mom is doing. Walking in the other direction is Sil, my physical science project partner. Well, he’s more than that. Over the past few weeks, we have grown to become friends. It’s been refreshing. He doesn’t give a shit about what people think, he’s introduced me to new music, and we laugh a lot together. I’ll admit, I asked him to be my partner because I was curious. He stares at me a lot in class, and I wanted to know more about him. He’s not my type, he’s so thin, and he has long hair and wears all black, but there’s somethi
ng about him...his eyes, I think.

  I’m glad I did, because despite all the darkness on the outside, he’s fun and he’s a good guy. We don’t talk much outside of class or my house. In school he keeps his distance, and we don’t run in the same circles. But I always say hi whenever I see him. I want him to know I am not ashamed by our friendship even if some of my friends are kind of assholes towards him.

  But today, it seems it’ll be more than a passing hello as he comes towards me with purpose. He must want to ask me something about the project.

  “Hi,” he says. He seems tense, but, that’s usually how he is in school, when it’s not just us in my house.

  “Hey,” I say with a smile. “What’s up?” I ask, opening my locker.

  “I wanted to give you this.” He hands me an envelope.

  “What’s this?” I ask. “Is it for science class?”

  “It’s...uh...”

  I feel a smack on my ass and jump. It’s Tripp. “I hate when you do that!” I say. He leers over at Sil.

  “Have you met Sil? He’s my partner,” I say, shoving the envelope in the pocket of my denim jacket.

  “Oh, yeah. I know Sil,” he says, roughing his hair up. Sil jerks away.

  That shit pisses me off.

  “Come over here,” I say to Tripp.

  He sighs. “Whhhaaaat?”

  I pull him away from my locker. “Don’t be rude. He’s nice. I don’t like when you act like that.”

  “Whatever Mia. That kid is obviously in love with you. You think I am just going to let him be all up on your ass?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re lab partners.”

  “He just better watch his back. I don’t trust him.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Anyway, I came by to see if you wanted me to walk you home.”

  “Fine. Let me grab my things.”

  I go back to my locker and Sil is long gone. I feel bad that Tripp had to do that stupid show of dominance. Tripp isn’t always like that, but around other guys, and especially when they are with me, he has to find a way to puff his chest.

  I’ve been thinking about breaking up with him for a while. Actually, I tried a couple of months ago and he cried like baby, begging me to stay. I relented. I don’t like hurting people and he just wore me down. So I thought I would give it another shot, but, it’s crap like the way he just treated Sil that reminds me some things never change. Tripp has always gotten what he wants, and maybe I am part of the problem for giving into him too.

  Tripp and I walk to my house in silence. My mind is on my mom and I don’t really talk to Tripp about her. Actually, Sil is the only person who I talk to about my fear of losing her. He lost his mom as a baby, and I don’t feel pity or awkwardness when I speak with him about it.

  “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say once we arrive at my front door.

  “You’re not inviting me in?”

  “I have a lot of homework and I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The truth is the house is glum and sad. I just want to sit by my mom and read to her. And I know Tripp wants more than just to hang out. Hooking up with Tripp is the last thing on my mind right now.

  “What’s your deal lately?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’ve been acting all fucking snotty.”

  “I am not in the mood, Tripp.”

  “You fucking Sil?” he leans in and whispers.

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  “I know he’s been coming over, Huck told me.” Huck, his nosey friend who lives across the street. “You think because I’m at my tutor’s I wouldn’t know?”

  “We’re doing a project together like I said! You are being ridiculous. I am done having this conversation.” I fumble for my keys and drop them on the floor. Tripp waits with his arms crossed as I grab them. I unlock and pull open the door and stick out my hand, signaling for Tripp to pass my book bag that he had been carrying.

  He shoves it over to me and I walk into my house.

  “Mia—“

  “What?” I ask petulantly.

  “Uh, nevermind,” he says. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, bye.”

  My complete lack of curiosity about what Tripp wanted to say only confirms that I need to end things with him soon. I drop my bag on the floor and hang up my jacket and peek into my mother’s room. My neighbor is there, she has been helping while my dad is at work.

  My mom smiles, she looks better. I knew she would. My neighbor steps out and I grab the copy of Romeo and Juliet on the nightstand. I have been reading it to her, acting out the various parts of the play. She loves it.

  Eventually, she doses off and I grab my bag so I can start on some homework. That’s when I remember the notes Sil gave me. I reach into the pocket of my jacket, and there is nothing. Then the other. I could have sworn I put it in there. I rummage through my bag and open the front door to see if I dropped it when I bent over to grab my keys. Still nothing. Crap, I might have lost some notes, but I figure I can ask Sil tomorrow when I see him during last period. With any luck, maybe it’ll magically appear in one of my notebooks or something.

  “Welcome to the Shore Club. How may I help you?

  “Hello, yes. I have a reservation under Tibbett, Mia.”

  It’s been a few days since I have seen or heard from Tax. I thought that the night at the club might have changed something, but he has recoiled back to his hiding place. I feel so stupid for thinking that that night meant anything. He just saw me as a possession that needed to be reclaimed from some guy. He drank, and when you drink you do things you normally wouldn’t. As soon as he sobered up, he went back to his role as my blackmailer, my master. To top it all off, my nerves got the best of me. I drank way more than I usually do, and puked right in front of him. Awesome. That’s exactly what you want to do in front of an egotistical anti-social narcissist: give him a reason to look down on you.

  After all these months he is still a stranger to me. It doesn’t feel that way because we have become familiar. But familiarity is just an illusion. It actually tricks me into thinking I know more than I do, that I mean more to him than I do.

  I don’t even know where the guy lives. I don’t know where he’s from. It took about two months to get his phone number. The little I do know has come from the occasional slip in conversation or the circumstances of our arrangement. I must be delusional to think that he has sincere feelings for me, and I am an even bigger idiot for having anything other than contempt for Tax.

  I keep thinking that, somehow, I am getting through. That I can get him to care for me enough to see me as a person and give me my freedom back. But, sometimes, I feel like I am right back in my dark apartment, getting grabbed from behind by a masked intruder. The only thing that has changed is the weapon he uses against me.

  Tax tried to hide his drunkenness, but based on his openness that night, it was clear he was wasted. I think that’s why he stuck around after I got sick too. That part of him that he tucks away so deep, the one that isn’t hard and cold like steel, was given a free pass to reveal itself after a couple of drinks. But the next morning, sober Tax quickly reminded me that this is an arrangement, nothing more. Whether or not he feels anything doesn’t even matter, because he is determined to shut me out.

  “Okay Ms. Tibbett, I have you all set for the penthouse suite. Do you need help with your bags?”

  “Thank you—wait, did you say the penthouse?”

  “Yes, it says right here you reserved the penthouse suite.”

  “That’s not possible. I am traveling on business, that’s too extravagant. Wait a moment, the person who makes my arrangements is here.” I tiptoe and look across the long counter for Laney, who is traveling with me and a few others to represent Alea. “Crap, I think she already went to her room.”

  “Ma’am, I am sorry, but there are no other rooms due to the convention. This is all we have.”

  “Ugh, really?”

/>   “Yes. I am so sorry, but someone did call in these reservations. I can see it in the notes. Maybe someone else in your party needed a room, so the person who did the booking upgraded you?”

  “Can I cancel and double up with someone else?”

  “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but the cutoff for cancellation has already passed. You’ll still be charged for tonight.”

  Dammit Laney. Maybe Laney thought I wanted the penthouse because of my new position. Or maybe that’s all that was left. I would just remind her later that I want to run a tight ship at Alea financially and that includes no penthouse suites for my future business trips unless first approved by me.

  “Well, I guess I have no choice then,” I say, handing her the company credit card.

  I make my way up to the extravagant suite. Despite feeling wasteful, I have to admit feeling giddy as soon as I walk in. The room is wrapped in floor to ceiling windows with views of the ocean and downtown Miami. The room is furnished with crisp white linens and upholstery, the floor tile is a muted grey. I open up the sliding doors to the enormous deck, letting in a soft ocean breeze. The sound of crashing waves and the stroke of the breeze against my skin is nature’s therapy. Maybe I should thank Laney instead of correct her. She knows I’ve been stressed. Of course, she only thinks it’s from transitioning to the new role. But maybe she was doing me a favor. For the first time in months, my mind is quiet.

  Tonight’s big event is a black tie banquet, so some of the Alea crew head to the pool, but I opt to take a nap on the deck before getting ready.

  The mental tranquility doesn’t last very long once I lie down, and I regret not distracting myself at the pool. My thoughts drift to what Tax is doing: Is he thinking of me? Did he have as much fun as I had at the night of the club? Is he seeing other women? Shit—I need to ask him if he is since we still aren’t using protection.

  It’s only been a couple of days, but I crave his forceful touch, his pliant lips, his warm breath against my neck, his masculine scent. I think about his body, rigid with muscle and how he often hides it from me, only making me want it more.