by York, Marie
As my thumb was mere centimeters from her face, I remembered those awful words she said to me. How I had opened up to her, and how she had no disregard for anything I said. A quiver ran through my muscles as my hand snapped back, and my thoughts changed from caring to utter despise.
“I think you should leave,” I said with a carefully controlled tone. I backed away from her, needing to put as much distance as I could between us. She wasn’t this cool chick with a heart that I thought she was. She was toxic, and she ruined me.
“Leave?” she muttered.
“Yes, leave.”
Her hand, like molting lava, latched onto my wrist. “Did you not hear anything I’ve been saying? My sister is missing,” she pleaded, her voice choked with emotion. But I wasn’t falling for it. Not again. The last time I thought I was helping her out, I got screwed. And, why the fuck should I care about her damn sister if she didn’t give two shits about mine?
I didn’t talk about Zoey much to people who didn’t know her. And, when I opened up to Mila, it was because I thought I could trust her with the most broken part of my heart. I thought she would be gentle, handle it with care. I never expected her to slam it into the cement, and stomp all over it with her fucking heels.
My gaze swung to her hand, searing into my skin. I grabbed her arm, and tossed it off of me. My lip curled up at the corner, and I glared into her eyes. “Yeah, well, kids go missing every day. Big. Fucking. Deal.” I emphasized the words, hoping they would cut as deep as they did when she used them on me.
She stumbled back, as if I just punched her in the gut. Her nose twitched, her eyes widened and her lips parted. She looked as if she might plead with me for a second, but then the shock faded and she seethed with that earlier anger. Red exploded up her neck to her cheeks. Her eyes spit fire and her nostrils flared.
“I hate you!” she screamed with an intensity that caused her voice to echo through the house.
My ears pounded with the rush of adrenaline pumping through my body. “Feeling’s mutual,” I growled.
She spun toward the door, flinging it open. I grabbed it before it slammed into the wall. “Go ahead. Run off. And you wonder where your sister gets it from.”
With an intensified rage, she turned toward me, and shoved a finger into my chest. “Don’t you fucking dare!” She shoved harder. “You told me to leave!”
“Then, why are you still here?” I asked, through clenched teeth.
“Fuck you, Knox,” she stammered before taking off.
“You already did!” I screamed after her, but she had already disappeared into the night.
Chapter 5
Mila
I walked into the police station, and headed straight to the first police officer I spotted. He was an older man with a round stomach and graying hair.
“Excuse me, sir. I need to file a missing persons report.”
“How long has the person been missing?” he asked, not even bothering to make eye contact with me.
“A few hours.”
“Sorry, they need to be gone twenty-four hours before we can file.”
“Twenty-four hours!” I exclaimed. “Why do I have to wait if I know she’s missing?”
“How do you know she’s missing? Did you see someone take her?”
“No. Nothing like that.” God, what if someone did take her? I didn’t even think about that. She was wandering the streets alone. My heart pounded in my chest as one horrible thought after another rushed into my head. I shook it off, refusing to believe it for a second. “She took off. She’s not at home.”
“How old is she?” the officer asked, completely void of any emotion.
“Sixteen.”
The officer finally looked up at me. “Ma’am, she’s sixteen. She’s probably at a girlfriend’s house. Happens all the time. If she doesn’t come home by tomorrow, come back.”
“But, what if it’s too late then?!” My self-control was slowly slipping away. Frustration and anger, fear and panic were pushing their way to the forefront. “She could be out there, hurt or worse. How am I supposed to sit back and wait until you think enough time has passed? Huh? Tell me. Because I really want to know.”
“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but it’s protocol.” He finally acted like a human being, and rested a calming hand on my shoulder. “Do yourself a favor. Go home and get some sleep. In the morning, call all her friends and anyone else she may have had contact with.”
What kind of sister was I? I didn’t know her friends. Other than those guys who were at my house, Mackenzie never had girls over. She never talked to them on the phone, that I knew about, or had sleepovers. Did she even have any friends? Even if she did, it didn’t matter. I had no idea who they were or how to get in contact with them. And to think I called her selfish. I should know these things about my own sister. Mom had a phonebook full of my friends’ phone numbers. She knew their parents, and was on first name basis with most of them. She knew where I was, and who I was with, every second of every day.
He continued. “If, by then, you don’t find her, come back and we’ll do what we can on our end. But trust me. Sixteen year olds take off all the time. She’ll be back. She may even be home right now.”
I didn’t believe him for a second. He didn’t know Mackenzie. I knew Mackenzie. That girl was as stubborn as the night was dark. If he wasn’t going to help me, then fuck him. I would figure it out on my own.
I stepped out of his touch and turned away. He had the audacity to wish me luck, as I walked out the door.
I hopped in my car and went back to driving, up and down every street I came across.
***
It had been two days since Mackenzie took off. Two days that I had no idea where she was, who she was with, or what she was doing. I hadn’t slept. Between her and the shit with Knox, I had a million thoughts running through my head, making it impossible to turn it off.
I had gone back to the police station, after enough time had passed, and filled the damn report out. It wasn’t enough, though. I couldn’t just sit back while time went on. So, with coffee in hand, I got back in my car and drove to her school.
There had to be someone here that she was close with, and would know where she was. It was ten minutes before school started, and there were kids everywhere. I walked up to as many as I could, asking if they knew a Mackenzie Greene. Most didn’t. One girl thought she might have been in her English class, but hadn’t seen her in weeks.
“Weeks!” I exclaimed.
“Can I help you with something?” I spun to a woman, dressed in a navy blue pant suit and a salt and pepper bob.
“Hi, I’m Mila Greene, and I’m looking for my sister, Mackenzie Greene. I’m her guardian, and she hasn’t come home in two days. I wanted to know if anyone has seen her.”
She held her hand out to me. “I’m Mrs. Sallinger, Mackenzie’s principal.” I accepted her hand, and prayed that she would be able to help me. “I’m sorry to report that Mackenzie hasn’t been to class in a couple of weeks now. We called the house, and left several messages.”
“I didn’t get any of them,” I admitted.
“Why don’t you come to my office and we can talk?”
I followed her, with no questions asked. As she explained to me the problems they had encountered with Mackenzie, I was beginning to feel like the biggest failure. I had no idea.
“We asked her to bring this home to you and sign it,” Mrs. Sallinger took out a piece of paper and handed it to me.
I took it from her and read. It basically outlined all of Mackenzie’s issues, and at the bottom was my signature. “I didn’t sign this,” I said, pointing to my name on the provided line. “If I had known…”
Everything else Mrs. Sallinger said was white noise. I thanked her for her time, and gave her my cell number just in case Mackenzie showed up.
Mackenzie had been completely playing me. I watched her get on that damn bus every morning. I made sure of it. Yet, somehow, she never made it to school
. I was a failure as a mother: a complete and total failure.
My parents were probably rolling over in their graves. And that thought alone broke what little remained of my heart. I swore to myself on the day of their funerals that I would make them proud, and I honestly had every intention to do so. But, for the past few years, not a single thing I did would make them proud. They would be disgusted by the way I made money, by our neighborhood, by how badly I fucked Mackenzie up. I was everything they hated in society. Not only did I fail them and Mackenzie, I failed myself too.
I thought by stripping, I was providing Mackenzie with a better life. But who am I kidding? What kind of example was I setting for her? My parents always lead by example. Practiced what they preached to us. And I totally screwed up. Instead of helping her like I thought, I was teaching her to sell out. How could I have been so stupid?
I didn’t know what to do next or where to go. I had exhausted all my resources. So, defeated, I went home. I almost made it to my door before all the emotions from the past nine years plowed into me with so much force I fell to my knees.
Tears poured out of me, streaming down my face and onto my legs. Sobs wracked my body and all I could do was pull my knees into my chest and let them. I cried for the life I was stuck with. For the way shit went down with Knox. For Mackenzie and how horribly I messed up. I cried for the loss of my parents and for my brother, Matthew, who was only in that car because of me.
Time was nonexistent as memory after memory caused more tears to fall. It wasn’t until, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something white dangling in front of me. I sniffed, wiping my eyes and nose, as I looked up, past the tissue, to Old Man Simpson.
He smiled down at me, and I took the tissue from his outstretched hand.
“Thank you,” I forced around the lump of emotion in my throat.
He didn’t say anything, just gave me a half-hearted smile before walking away.
Chapter 6
Knox
My head hurt so bad I actually heard it pounding. I pushed my head into my pillow, wishing I could just disappear into the thousand-thread count case. The pounding, though now muffled, was relentless.
I stumbled out of bed, on the prowl for water and Ibuprofen. The closer I got to the kitchen, the louder the pounding got, and that’s when I realized it wasn’t in my head. Someone was at my door.
I dragged my feet down the hall, ready to tell whoever it was to go the fuck away.
“Open this fucking door, you son of a bitch.” I would know that voice anywhere. I’d listened to it scream at me from my side of the cage for the past ten years. Coach was the last person I felt like dealing with, but he was not one to be deterred. If I didn’t answer the door, he would stay out there pounding his fist against the wood all fucking day. He may have been forty years past his prime, but he was still as stubborn and tough as shit as he was then.
I pulled the door open, and rested against the frame, hoping this would be a quick drop in. Coach narrowed his grey eyes, and shoved me into the house. “We need to talk,” he said matter-of-factly.
“I’m not really in the mood,” I said.
“I’m sorry. I don’t remember asking if you were.”
“You didn’t, but I’m just saying.”
“And I’m just saying we need to fucking talk, and we need to do it now. I gave you a week to drown yourself in pity and booze. Time’s up.”
“I’m done,” I admitted. I had been doing a lot of thinking. The reason I started fighting was so I could help my sister, and I was too late. The only reason I had stuck with it was because I didn’t know what else to do. Now, I had more than enough money to live off of. I didn’t need to fight anymore. “I’m retiring.”
“Over my dead body!” he growled.
“You better watch what you say, old man. You’re getting up there in age, so it’s really not a threat anymore.”
His hand flew up, and caught me around the throat. His fingers sunk into my skin, cutting off my air supply. He smashed me up against the wall and leaned in. “You better watch your fucking mouth. I might be old, but no matter how old I get, I will always be able to kick your ass. You got me?”
I didn’t answer. I glared at him with annoyance and anger. He slowly loosened his grip, but not nearly enough to let me go. He reached his other hand up, and slapped me straight across the face.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I spat.
“My problem is that you lose one fucking fight, and you act like the world is coming to an end. I got news for you: the fucking thing is still spinning. We’re all still here and, no matter how hard you try to drink away the fact that you lost your title, you can’t. So, you need to grow a pair and accept that you fucked up. Then, you need to pick your pathetic ass off the floor and get back in that goddamned cage.”
“I told you, I don’t want to.”
He shoved me up against the wall again, this time tilting his head until he was inches from my face. The veins in his forehead bulged as he stared me right in the eye. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, since his grip had tightened again.
“Ten years ago, I took a chance on a nobody kid with no real knowledge of the sport because he had fire in his eyes and a good right hook. From that first time you got in the cage, I knew my gut had been right all those months earlier. My gut has never steered me wrong, and you aren’t about to change that. Now, clean yourself up, and be the man, the fighter, we both know you were born to be.”
He let his hand fall to his side and stepped back. I glanced at him and remembered that day ten years ago when he walked into my life and changed it forever. He did take a chance on me and, from that moment, I swore I would never let him down. Looking at him now, face going slack with a bitter smile, I realized that was exactly what I was doing.
My eyes scanned my surroundings, taking in my massive foyer, the grand staircase that led to my seven bedrooms, and the hallway that led to my movie room. All of this was because this old bastard took a chance on me. How could I tell him no after everything he’d done? It just wasn’t as black and white as he thought it was.
“I don’t know if I have it in me anymore. My head wasn’t there. I had so much shit going on, and I just couldn’t focus.”
Coach finally looked up, and his bitter smile transformed to something more hopeful. “You always had a lot of shit going on. Think about it. When you started, it was because of Zoey. Your sister was at home fighting the battle of her life, and you still got in that cage and fought like a champ every time. You want to know why?”
“Why?” I asked.
“You had something to fight for. You need to find that drive again. Once you have something to fight for, it doesn’t matter what’s going on because, the minute you step into that octagon, you channel all of it and you put it all into the fight. You let it fill you, seep into your veins and drive you. You let it take control and guide you to victory. It’s there. In here.” He pushed his fingers into my chest just above my heart. “It just lost its way. It’s your choice whether you want to bring it home again.” He took his fingers away and ran a hand over his chin. “So, what do you say, Knox?”
I lifted my lip and smirked. “Let’s do this.”
Chapter 7
Mila
The stage had always been the one place I’d always been able to let go of all of the bullshit in my life, and just have a good time. However, tonight it was not working. No matter how hard I tried to push it all away, it kept finding a way to sneak back in. My timing was off, and the enthusiasm I was known for was lost somewhere in the abyss. I felt like I was drowning with no life preserver to pull me back up.
A regular whistled, usually my cue to go over to his side of the stage and give him a little something extra while he slipped a few bills into my g-string. I went mainly because I was on autopilot. I got down on my knees and crawled toward him, giving him a wink. It was a move that always made me feel sexy and irresistible, but right now the only thing it was mak
ing me feel was dirty.
The minute I let all the thoughts of my parents back into my head, I became ashamed of myself. Now that they were back, I couldn’t get them to disappear again. It was as if they were there, in the audience, judging me. I could feel Dad’s eyes on the back of my head, and can sense Mom’s disapproval, as she would cross her arms and tap her foot.
Then there was Mackenzie. I knew that night that it felt different, and, now a week later, all my fears were confirmed. She hadn’t been home. I hadn’t been able to find her. The police were basically useless, and acted as if I was annoying them every time I stopped by. Mrs. Sallinger hadn’t heard anything or seen her. The only place I hadn’t gone was the reason she was missing.
I tried going by there once, but they were closed. Now, I had to wait for my next day off or Sal would fire me. He had already warned me about missing too many nights, telling me I’d be going back to day time if I took another night off. I knew I shouldn’t give a shit. But at the same time, as much as I hated it, I needed to make a living and the night shift meant more money. I slipped my bra down my arms and bent back, whipping the strap around my finger before tossing it behind me. There were a few hoots and hollers, and, instead of thriving on the compliments, I had to keep myself from cringing.
Finally, my set was done and I strutted off the stage. Once the lights dimmed and I made my way behind the curtain, I sighed in relief.
I fastened my bra back into place, as I walked into the back room and sat at a vanity. The girl staring back at me in the mirror was someone I barely recognized. She had black bags under her eyes, and had aged ten years in the matter of a week.
I ran my fingers over the bags as if that would magically make them disappear. The blonde wig washed me out, and I was getting sick of being Starr. Not that being Mila was much better either these days. I thought about packing up my shit and taking off. Maybe a fresh start somewhere new would be better for me, but the idea that Mackenzie would come home kept me from doing so. I needed to hold to the hope that she would come back and that we could figure things out together.