Debt

by Nina G. Jones

  I muster up every ounce of strength I have left to attack them all, but with one heave, I simply collapse on top of Tripp.

  “What the fuck?” he says, pushing me to the ground and kicking me in the stomach.

  He picks up a bottle from the ground and swings it in my direction. Then everything goes black.

  Wet warmth awakens me. At first, it’s almost comforting, like I am swimming in a warm ocean, but then the smell hits my nose, the acrid taste of ammonia cloys on my lips. I can barely focus my eyes, as my entire body pulsates in one unanimous throb of pain. Then my hearing hones in on the noise of a single stream of fluid coming from above. Someone is pissing on me. I barely have the energy to care. At least it’s warm, and it’s gotten so cold this late into the night, that this seems to be the only physical relief available to me. I’m probably going to die tonight. I don’t see how I can make it out of this.

  Then I remember Jude. My eyes shoot from one dark shadow to the other, and I finally spot one moving.

  “Do it, Huck. You’re not in it with us unless you fucking do it,” Tripp’s voice is more slurred. He’s even drunker than he was earlier. The shadow is a hump and it thrusts back and forth, jaggedly, stopping for seconds at a time, over a limp figure. I moan, trying to do anything I can to make them leave her alone. The thrusts stop.

  “I can’t!” Huck’s sobbing. “I put it in, okay? I pumped. That’s enough. I did it.”

  “Then fucking use this!” Tripp picks something up from the floor and hands it to the figure. I squint my eyes to focus on the shape and I see it’s a glass bottle.

  I open my mouth to scream, but only raspy weak noises come out of my throat. I rise up to my forearms and drag my useless body across the spongy forest floor. I’ll use the last bit of life I have to stop them from hurting Jude any more. Something grips the collar of my shirt and pulls me up.

  “You just don’t fucking quit. It’s too late. We all had turns popping her cherry.” He lets go of my collar as tears stream down my cheeks and I fall back to the ground. An explosion of pain shoots out in every direction from my torso and I curl into a ball as I groan in agony.

  I have nothing left.

  I never thought life was fair. I learned that from an early age. But today, I learned that life is cruel. It isn’t random. It targets some people. People like Tripp and Tucker live with impunity. They get money, and girls, and parents who care. People like Jude and me are forgotten. No, we are worse than forgotten. We are the playthings of fate. Fate is a cruel bitch, and when she sets her eyes on you, you cannot escape her plans.

  And so I appeal to the only thing left. I never really believed in praying. I used to do it when I was little. I used to ask god to make my daddy nice. I stopped asking at about eight years old. It was clear my prayers didn’t matter. But now, I am willing to put my pride aside for my sister. I brought her into this mess. She should never have been here. She should have been home getting ready for school tomorrow. All this came from my obsession with a girl who laughed at my heartfelt letter, and passed it along to her boyfriend so he could use it as a torture device. Mia knows who Tripp is. She knew this would end badly for me. Maybe not death, but pain and humiliation would be guaranteed. She’s not who I thought she was. I was an idiot to think a girl like her would love me back.

  Please, If there is a god, if you let me and Jude survive this, I will make this right. I will be strong. I’ll make it up to her.

  Boots crunch along dry leaves and twigs, arriving in front of my torso. Tucker kneels, grabs me by the collar and rears his fist.

  Darkness covers me again.

  Mia sits across from me, her hair still wet from the rain, covered in a blanket as tears streak her face. It’s the first time I have ever told anyone about that night. The events have replayed in my head more times than I can remember, but never have I recalled them out loud. Even Jude and I speak about it using vague references: what they did to us; that night; what happened. We never allow ourselves to relive it openly.

  For me, it’s to avoid self-hatred that brews because I allowed my sister to be gang raped and beaten. For Jude, it’s the shame of knowing her brother witnessed much of it.

  I’ve never even spoken to Rex about it other than in a passing reference. He knows the gist of it from Jude. In a way, it’s our fourth sibling. That night has a life of its own. It lives with us, it fuels us, it gives us purpose and strengthens our bond. Rex loves Jude and me enough to know that the scars on my body and the scars in Jude’s womb were from the same attack. That’s all he’s ever needed to know.

  Uttering the words to Mia, I was surprised at how numb I had become. It was like I was recounting a horror story, not something I had lived. But for Mia, I could sense her feel every hit, every violation, every harsh word. I watched her feel the pain for me that I could no longer summon.

  “I am so sorry this happened to you. Poor Jude...” Mia says, choking back more tears. “I don’t understand how they could have gotten away with this,” she says, shaking her head in disbelief.

  “I was in the hospital for days under sedation, as was Jude. By the time we woke up, Pettit had paid off anyone who mattered, including my own piece of shit father.”

  “I can’t believe I ever dated Tripp, that disgusting piece of shit. I broke up with him as soon as I came back to school after my mother died. He was a narcissistic nightmare. And I am sure he cried to his father telling him he made a mistake, begging for his help. That’s all he ever did, was do whatever he wanted and then cry to his parents to make it right.”

  “Well, whatever he did, it worked. Because everyone was silenced.”

  “So, you thought...I set you up? You thought I could do that?” her eyes refill with unshed tears. “Tax, tell me you didn’t think I could do something like that?”

  “Tripp had the letter. He said you gave it to him. It made sense to me. I didn’t think I was worthy of you at the time. It made sense to me that you might react like that. Actually, it seemed more likely than you liking me back.”

  “Tax...I would never. How could you think that? I was good to you.” Her lips purse with indignation.

  “Mia, you don’t know what it’s like. You were loved from the day you were born. Jude and I, no one ever cared about us but each other. It was really easy for us to think yet another person didn’t.”

  The tense line of Mia’s lips soften. She sighs, closing her eyes for a couple of seconds. The tautness of her muscles dissolves as she digests my perspective. She opens her eyes, nods, and reaches her hand out to my thigh. I tense. But this time, I allow myself to receive her touch. She’s not the one who caused the scars, or the brutality. I have to train myself to remember that.

  “Never, Tax. I would have never, ever let that happen if I had known,” she says remorsefully.

  “I know that now. But, Mia what happened to us, it changes you. I don’t just mean it traumatizes you. I mean it infects you with rage. It fucks you up in a way that can’t be fixed. The world kept taking and taking and never gave back. You can only give so much without getting back. Love, understanding, empathy. Jude and I only gave those things, they rarely came our way. And that night took the last of what we had left. We lost something. I don’t feel remorse. I hate the world. My life became a mission to spread the pain tenfold. Pain. The world gave us that in droves. I had plenty of that to give back.”

  “You have more to give than pain, Tax. You are not those assholes. You are not,” she says firmly. Her eyes widen. “My father?”

  I don’t have the heart to tell her the truth. It would break her. And if she knows her father was involved, it might lead down a line of questions I don’t want her to follow. “He didn’t know.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him? He would’ve made it right.” He’s not the man to me that he was to you, Mia.

  “I was too scared of my own father. He threatened to hurt Jude if I didn’t lie to the police.”

  “Dammit. I wish I had known. I would have
helped. I promise you I had no idea. And if I had known, I would’ve gotten my dad to help you.”

  “I know.”

  “So you found me because you thought I did this to you?”

  I nod. Shame. She’s the only person who can make me feel it with the slightest gesture or look. It’s not because she intends to, but because for the first time, I really care what someone thinks of me.

  “And because you thought I was responsible for Jude’s rape...you wanted to do the same to me?”

  Fuck. I don’t want to admit I am a rapist. I am many things, but not that. I never intended to fuck her. I intended to kill her. But I know only in my warped mind does that sound better. I try to find some way to explain it all.

  “I wanted to scare you. When I saw you booked that service, the timing was perfect. The rest just happened. When I came to your house that night, I wasn’t going to rape you, I promise. But then when I touched you, and you responded, I couldn’t help myself.”

  “It was like a perfect storm...” she thinks aloud.

  “Yes. And then, once we were together, I wanted you more. I know you did too. And the way we wanted things wasn’t typical. But I was still angry. I convinced myself that I could do both: have you and make you pay. Of course, I was fooling myself. I knew as soon as we started the arrangement that something was wrong. I couldn’t reconcile that you were the person who set up Jude and me. And I started wanting to see more and more of you, and I hated myself for betraying my promise to make things right. You have to understand, up until last week, I thought you had set Jude and me up.”

  “So despite thinking I had done all that, you came to see me in Miami?”

  I realize how confusing this must be for her to understand, but it was just as confusing for me at the time. “Yeah. I just couldn’t stop myself.”

  “Knowing me now, as an adult, how could you have thought that?”

  “I bet you didn’t think I would be who Sil would have become. It was my truth, Mia. What I did to you was wrong. It’s the only thing I regret.”

  “It is. But I am part of that too. I let you do what you wanted. And I don’t have an excuse.”

  “It’s not that simple, Mia. Don’t you dare blame yourself for anything. This is on me. And you don’t need an excuse to be who you are. You are perfect the way you are.”

  She looks down, and her soft smile lights up the sadness in her face.

  “If what happened between us wasn’t supposed to happen, then what was your original goal? What did you plan on doing to me?”

  I don’t want to keep lying to Mia. But I must. She can never know I intended to slit her throat that first night. Some things can never be forgotten or forgiven.

  “My original goal was to scare you that night in your house, then to purchase Alea and stun you when you realized I was the same person who broke into your house. Then I was going to tell you in the boardroom during that first meeting that I was going to close down Alea. You would be without a job and so would all of your friends.”

  She gasps. Up until now, she didn’t understand the depths of my vengeance. And she still doesn’t, but this small truth is a taste.

  “You would do all that? What about the money? The company was worth tens of millions.”

  “It was the price I was willing to pay. I knew how important Alea was to you.”

  “I would have been devastated.”

  “That was the goal.”

  She bows her head in her hands, letting her damp brown hair cascade over her shoulders. I don’t insist on forgiveness. There is no excuse. It’s the truth. It’s what I wanted at the time. She takes a deep sigh.

  “But you didn’t do it.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Because?”

  “Because I met you.”

  “So you went after me. Did you go after the others?”

  “Mia, you don’t want to know the things I did. And I can’t tell you. I don’t snitch and others are involved. I promised I would tell you who you were to me. Why I came for you. And that’s what I have done. I can only say, I have done some ugly things, but I never asked for the life I was given. Everyone who got theirs deserved to get got.”

  She can’t know that the tattoo she subtly admires whenever we are together is a tribute to all the people I have killed. Each serpent, another person I have gleefully ended. It’s something I take pride in. And there was one spot left for her. Because of Mia, this tattoo will never be completed. Its incompletion is a dedication to my commitment to protect her.

  Mia stands up and comes to me, settling on the oversized ottoman and resting her head on my shoulder. “I know some ill fate fell upon a few of those guys. You don’t have to tell me if you did it. But whatever you did to them, after what they did to you and Jude, I am sure they deserved it. I knew you, and you were kind, and generous, and you had—have—a good heart.”

  “Sil is dead. He doesn’t exist. I’m not Sil, Mia. I want to make that clear to you.”

  “I understand.”

  She slides her fingers through mine. “Jude, is she around?”

  “She and I aren’t speaking right now.”

  “I thought you were close.”

  “We are. Very. We just have a hot and cold relationship. Right now, it’s leaning on cold.”

  “Maybe I could talk to her. I could explain to her I didn’t know.”

  “She knows. I told her. And she’s not Jude anymore either. She kept the name, but she’s nothing like that girl you remember.”

  “Does she hate me too?”

  “I don’t hate you Mia. But, Jude’s having trouble shifting her perception of the situation. She needs a lot of time. I don’t want you meeting her. You know that Shakespeare quote: And though she be little, she is fierce? Maybe I don’t have it exactly.”

  “I know it.”

  “Well, that’s Jude. Let me handle her.”

  “She is your twin. Fierceness is in the genes. But if I can help, let me know.”

  Mia tracks a finger over the top of my hand, and onto my forearm. The softness of her touch sends warmth through my veins. I don’t want to hurt her. But it’s what I do. I inflict pain and suffering. How can I become the man that this strong, beautiful, kind-hearted woman deserves? All I can do is warn her, like I always have, but she is persistent. She has a way of getting what she wants, even with someone like me.

  It’s a hopeless fucking endeavor. I keep pushing her away, trying to get her to safety and she keeps running back into the burning house to grab me. That’s who Mia is, that’s who she has always been. Ever since I have known her in a previous life, she has been trying to save me. Whether it be pretending to be hungry so that I would eat, befriending me, or allowing me the joy of falling in love during a time in my life when I felt so alone. Sil got to know what it was like to fall in love because of her. Tax knew what it was like to loathe because of her.

  And now, maybe she is finally getting her way. Maybe despite the burns, and the cuts, and the smoke that have hindered her, despite my persistence that she run and save herself, she is becoming my savior.

  “I’m a harsh person. I say mean things even when I don’t mean to. If another guy lays a hand on you, I’ll break it. I don’t make love, or have sex, I fuck. Sometimes hard. Sometimes brutally. I don’t get upset, I fuck shit up. I don’t play well with others.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Mia says with a snarky smirk on her face. It’s that sass that makes me want to bend her over and smack that tight ass of hers.

  I want to tell her I am a liar. That I have betrayed her in the worst possible way: I killed someone she loved. Or that I was set on taking her own life in the most brutal way possible. That I even take something that should be a joyous gift, the gift of life, and pervert it with my warped mind. I thought that, somehow, getting her pregnant might make up for everything I did to her by saving her life and giving her the family she had lost. But to normal people, lives are not interchangeable fucking L
ego pieces. You can’t trade one for the other. I can’t make up for the person I eliminated by gifting her a new one.

  And yet, I still pump my cum inside of her, because despite what my rational mind knows is right, some part of me still wants to connect with her at that level.

  Mia sees my good intentions and she thinks that’s all that matters, but intentions are fucking worthless when you are like me. Because by the time intentions travel through my fucked up psyche and burst onto the world as action, they have been shredded and warped until they are mangled with sharp edges that cut to the bone.

  I thought I could save Mia from death by giving her life, but it’s all the same shit with me. Even when I create, I destroy.

  But I won’t tell her those words, because I want her to stay. I gave her a chance to leave, and she came back. And I don’t have the willpower to push Mia away again.

  “I’ll never be a normal person. And I can’t be controlled. I shouldn’t be with anyone. That’s what I need to protect you from. I don’t operate like most people. You are a good person, you should find a good person.”

  The words are pointless, because I know she doesn’t give a shit. She’s made up her mind.

  “I already have,’ she says, her soft lips kissing the snakes on my neck.

  I finally understand. And maybe I should be angry, but I’m not. Tax doesn’t want my pity, but what happened to him and Jude, it’s horrendous. How could they be anything other than full of rage and vengeance?

  I’ll admit, it hurt to hear Tax say what his original intentions were with me. It hurt to think he even thought I was capable of those things. But, all he ever knew was hate. No one, besides his sister, had ever been good to him. Why would he think that would have changed in the few weeks he and I had been friends? It wouldn’t take much for a young man who had been let down over and over to believe another person had followed suit.

  And maybe I should be upset that he took the law into his own hands, but sometimes circumstances call for other forms of justice. Who knows how much harm they were allowed to do to others because they were never held accountable for what they did to Sil and Jude? How many other victims were paid hush money? I just can’t find pity for the men who raped and wounded tiny Jude. There are so many other people deserving of my empathy, and even I have my limits of who I can extend it to.