by H. M. Ward
Maggie’s gaze sweeps the floor. “You’re seriously going to marry him?” I nod and give her a look that says don’t press it right now. She adds, “I’d love to, but you know I can’t afford to do it.”
“Yes, you can. I got part of my advance. We can go house hunting whenever you want, oh, and this part isn’t optional—you work for me now. I’m going to need a personal assistant to tell me what to do, you know, someone a little bossy.”
Maggie giggles and shoves me, then slaps her hands over her mouth, and repeats the action. “No way!”
“Way.” It’s so good to see a burst of happiness flash in her eyes for a brief moment. But as soon as she blinks, it’s gone, lost within the depths of agony that fill her soul.
One day she’ll stop fighting back. One day she’ll give in, give up.
She would have already if I hadn’t shown up. Some people take you straight to Hell. It’s ironic, because I have blood on my hands and it doesn’t feel like she’s pulling me down. It’s more like I’m pulling Maggie up from the torturous life she’s known, and hidden with that pretty smile.
I don’t regret my actions. The thought makes my skin tingle. In the back of my mind, I wonder what kind of person that makes me, but I straighten my spine and get up. It makes me who I am and there’s nothing more to consider. I did what I had to do. I wouldn’t have touched Victor if he left her alone, if he hadn’t threatened to come after us, but he did. I saw the fear in Maggie’s eyes and the truth. If Victor Campone had lived, we would have died.
“You hungry?” I ask as I pad toward the fridge.
“Yeah, a little bit.” Maggie has been sitting with her feet curled under her butt and looking at her hands since I picked her up at Victor’s. She rarely makes eye contact. I think the fight was knocked out of her. It shows up in spurts, but it’s like a car that’s running out of gas. I’m so worried about her. After everything she’s been through…
This can’t be what undoes her. It can’t.
Because it’s my fault this time.
Every other time, Maggie fought back. She never gave up, never gave in, and now my best friend is slumped on the couch, covered in bruises and cuts, with eyes that resemble black holes—they suck everything in, but see nothing. They feel nothing, not anymore.
I smile and say something stupid, trying to make her laugh, but I don’t even get a pity grin. After tugging the fridge door open, I groan aloud. Neil is working today and failed to go shopping.
Maggie asks, “What’d he do?”
“He took all the leftovers from the party to work. I thought it was fine because he’s supposed to go shopping, but he didn’t.” I’m leaning into the empty fridge staring at a carton of expired milk and a jar of pickles. I’m not eating that. I slam the fridge and add, “I’ll run out. Does Chinese sound good?”
Maggie usually protests and offers to pay for stuff, but today she just nods. “Great!” I say, sounding chipper. She’ll come back around. She will. If I keep telling myself that it’ll happen right? I suddenly realize if she doesn’t rebound, killing Victor wasn’t enough revenge to get even for what he did to Maggie.
CHAPTER 12
I grab my keys and start the engine. The cherry red car purrs as I pull out of the driveway and zip to the take-out place. When I’m about to pull into the parking lot, a cop pulls up behind me, with his red lights flashing. I wasn’t speeding. Damn. It must be true that red cars get pulled over more than any other color.
I pull over and throw the car into park, careful to keep my hands on the steering wheel. Dad told me to never go for my purse or glove box until the cop was standing by the car. The guy’s got to see my hands or he might shoot me, well that’s not exactly the way Dad said it, but it’s what he meant.
I push the button on the window just as the cop walks over. He’s wearing that dark uniform that makes me want to run screaming into my room and hide under my bed.
He’s not that guy. Stop it, Hallie, I scold myself, but it doesn’t help. By now, my hands are shaking.
“License and registration, please.” The guy is late thirties, and kind of scary looking. By scary, I mean it looks like he could take my little body and fold it accordion style and shove it in his trunk. The guy is all lean muscle and he looks pissed off. I can’t imagine what I’ve done.
I reach for the glove box to pull out the papers Jon mentioned, but all I can find is the book about the car and the last oil change notice. No papers. No registration. My heart lurches. Fuck. I start thinking that Jon played me, but even he isn’t that low. And the cop hasn’t asked me to step out of the car or anything. My taillight is out or something, that’s all. This is nothing.
I dig through my purse and manage to pull out my little wallet. My face turns ashen when I see the empty slot where my driver’s license should have been. I glance over at the policeman and say softly, “It’s gone.”
“You don’t have a license or registration on this vehicle?” He says something into his shoulder after hearing a buzz in his earpiece. “Step out of the car, ma’am.”
I’m shaking now. “I didn’t do anything wrong. Someone took my license. I have one.”
He ignores me and backs me into the hood. His sunglasses come off. When he tucks them away, he asks, “Do you know you’re driving a stolen vehicle?”
“It’s not stolen.”
“Oh?”
I shake my head, ready to cry. Jon wouldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t. “Jonathan Ferro sold me this car a couple of days ago for ten thousand dollars. I haven’t had a chance to file the paperwork yet. I thought I had a few days?”
The cop nods. He turns me to face the hood and pats me down. “Nice story. The car is worth a lot more than that. If you’re going to lie at least make the story sound convincing.”
“It’s true! Jon sold it to me for ten grand. Ask him! I’m not lying.”
I feel cold metal bite into my wrists as handcuffs slip around my arms. I start to panic. My heart races too fast and the world becomes a blur. I can’t stop talking, pleading, and as the cop shoves me in the back of his car the whole awful event replays in vivid detail in my mind.
I close my eyes and try to shut it out, but the colors brighten and the sounds from over a decade ago ring loudly in my ears as tears streak down my cheeks. The past and the present slam together with such violence that I can’t stand it.
My mother swears at me before shoving me in the closet. Little hands wrap around me, and I know my baby brother, Anthony, is terrified. He’s grown so thin that his bones feel sharp under my palms. He cries until he goes silent, until he falls asleep, until my mother has had her fill of drugs and lovers. I hear her laugh. I could never make her happy like that. I hear the sounds of sex, until something changes. The normal party isn’t normal anymore.
The policeman that pulled me from the closet tried to take my brother’s lifeless body from my arms. I didn’t understand. I protected him from her. I watched out for Anthony, but after everything I did, it wasn’t enough. They thought I killed him at first. They shoved me into the back of the car and I screamed at them until I couldn’t cry anymore. I wanted my brother, but they said he was dead.
I didn’t believe them.
Now, I have trouble believing anyone and this cop has opened a wound that is so deep it cuts me to the bone. No, it wasn’t the cop—it was Jon.
I can’t help the shivering, but I don’t cry. They book me and ask me questions that I’ve heard before. The paint never changes in places like this. The people are the same. The smell is identical. I stare blankly, trying to keep my mind in one piece, but I feel it cracking bit by bit.
Who will save Maggie? If I lose it, who’s there for her? No one. Pull it together, Hallie.
I get one call, so I call the person they’re trying to keep me away from, the man who’s blackmailing me for sex.
When he answers the phone, Bryan sounds weary. I don’t know how else to put it. I would have thought he was sleeping, but there’
s something in his voice that tells me he hasn’t slept in a long time. “Suffolk County PD. Let me guess, is this Jon or Trystan?”
“Neither,” my voice is so small, so mousey that it barely makes a sound.
I hear him shift and Bryan sounds more alert when he replies, “Hallie?”
“Come get me. I’ll owe you. Anything you want, just come get me.” I hand the phone back to the officer at the desk and am led back to my cell.
CHAPTER 13
I’m sitting across from a woman who can’t stop weeping. She goes on and on about unpaid parking tickets and that she’ll lose her job for this, but she didn’t make enough to pay the tickets. She starts to hyperventilate and mentions medicine. That’s the only time the officer outside the bars looks over at her. They remove her from my cell, saying they’ll get her meds.
Someone else comes in and sits next to me. Her face is bruised on one side. “Hey.”
I stare at her and say nothing. My arms are folded across my chest and I’m leaning against the wall thinking of ways to castrate Jon Ferro. He knew my past and what this would do to me.
The woman is no more than a girl, barely eighteen, with big round eyes and baby fat on her cheeks. Her face doesn’t have that angular look that comes around twenty-two years old. Her dark hair is long and in a messy ponytail.
She sighs and rests her back against the cold cement wall. “Are you in for the night? I hope I am. He needs time to cool off. The only bad part is the lice soap, but the rest is okay. Plus it’ll give him time. I can’t be around him when he’s like this. He’s usually great, but on nights like this one, I’m better off staying here. I’m not making my call. Hey, you look familiar.” She talks without taking a breath and stares at me the entire time.
“We’ve never met,” is all I say.
She nods and continues, releasing a tidal wave of words. I sit and listen to her life, to her story, and feel nothing but pity. She’s like Maggie and me. She has no one that cares, no one to listen to her voice and find solace in her touch.
I don’t know how long I’ve been there but by the time they call my name, the young woman was taken for a shower and lead to her cell for the night. Imagine wishing for a cell instead of going home. It makes me want to cry, and there’s not a fucking thing I can do about it. I can’t even take care of myself.
The cell door slides open and makes the most god-awful sound. “Hallie Raymond, collect your things at the front desk and go home with the friend who paid your bail. If you screw up, he’s going to be the one who pays for it, so best behavior.”
I nod and make my way to the front desk. It feels like I haven’t blinked for ages, but I do when I see Bryan. As I walk up behind him I notice the way he breathes, the way his shoulders hunch forward like he’s being guarded—or in pain. I stop behind him and watch for a moment. His hips are narrow as always, he hasn’t lost much weight, but his hair doesn’t shine the way it used to. His breaths are shallow and short, like he’s been running. A horrible feeling drips down my spine as I stare at him.
At that moment, Bryan feels my eyes on him and turns. He has that playful grin on his face. “If you wanted to wear cuffs, I have some. I would have been happy to—oof!” I crash into him with the full force of my body and hold him tight.
Bryan is shocked at first. His arms take a moment to close around me, and after they do, he holds me. I feel his voice, the warm stirring of breath, as he whispers in my ear, “Let’s get out of here.” He releases me and I nod. That’s when he tells me the last thing I want to hear. “There are reporters out front.”
“What?” My jaw drops in horror.
“I’ve made arrangements to leave through the back, but there will be someone. There always is. Everyone is going to know what happened by morning.” Bryan takes my hand and leads me after an officer that ushers us through a room with filing cabinets and out the back of the police station to a black Hummer. I’m shoved inside, but not before a flash goes off and I looked straight into the camera.
Bryan shoves him back, but the shot was already taken. He climbs in after me and says, “Drive.”
“I’m not your fucking chauffeur, Bryan. Say please.” A guy about my age, with dark hair that hangs in his face, is in the driver’s seat. Oversized sunglasses obscure his eyes.
“Fuck you, Trystan.”
Trystan rolls his eyes and pulls away in his oversized, environmentally irresponsible machine, aiming at stray reporters, as he exists the parking lot. “People would be nicer to you if you were nicer to them. That’s all I’m saying.” Trystan is quiet but I feel his eyes on me. When I look up he answers what I was thinking about. “Jon didn’t do this to you.”
Slowly, my chin tips up and our eyes meet in the review mirror. “Jon Ferro is a dead man. He knows what this did to me. It was the worst thing he could have done.”
Bryan takes my hand and weaves our fingers together. “It wasn’t Jon. Please wait to kill him until tomorrow.”
“I could kill him now. Bryan, I took care of Campone and I can take care of anyone that messes with Maggie or me. I’m not a child anymore,” I hiccup and shiver as the past and present slam together again. My brother starved to death. He died in my arms and I was too dumb and small to know any better. I say I was an only child because it’s easier than telling people that story, but the Ferros know everything. They’re like roaches that can seek out every lie in every dark corner of your soul. “I won’t be decimated by Jon. Fuck him.”
Trystan and Bryan exchange a look, but no one says anything. Bryan pulls me into his arms and holds me until we pull up in front of an ancient motel. Gross is the best way to describe it. I bet they rent rooms by the hour. Trystan tosses Bryan the room key. “Stay put until I find out what happened. I think I already know, although the details are sketchy.”
I shake my head, “No, I can’t. Maggie is back there and she needs me. And Neil—”
Bryan sighs, running his hands through his hair. After he does it, he shakes his hand by his side. “Maggie will be all right. And Neil is a douche. Besides, he knows I took you for the night. Apparently you told Maggie I was blackmailing you because she tried to nail me in the temple with her heel.” That makes me smile. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” Bryan tickles me and leans in close. Those green eyes sparkle for a moment before the haze returns. “Come on Raymond. I plan on using you until you forget who you are.”
CHAPTER 14
I’m breathless by the time I feel him shudder within me. Bryan is naked and covered in a slick sheen of sweat. My legs are tightly gripping his hips as he pounds into me over and over again. He repeats the rocking motion until I scream out his name, and then he falls on top of me. Breathing hard, he rolls to the side with a smile on his face. He pushes his dark damp hair out of his face and watches me. “I’ve never had so much fun breaking the law in my entire life.”
“Oh? And just how many women have you blackmailed, Mr. Ferro?” I prop myself up on my side and debate pulling the blanket up, so I opt for the sheet, but Bryan stops me.
His hand is on mine and he keeps it there until I drop the linens. “No clothes, no sheets, no blankets, nothing. You’re my naked slave tonight. I want to see you.” His eyes dip to my breasts and slowly slip up my neck and back to my eyes.
“Nice dodge.”
“You don’t really want me to answer that, do you?” He grins and places his hands behind his head. God, his body is beautiful, toned and perfect. I wonder how many pills he’s taken tonight, how high he is right now and what he’ll remember tomorrow. I want him to remember me—every bit of every moment. “If I have done this before, then I’m a total dick, but if I haven’t, then you’ll know I’m into you. Since you’re engaged to someone else, though, I don’t see how this goes well, either way. Let’s pretend you didn’t ask.”
He has a point. Licking my lips, I ask, “You don’t mind Neil? And the engagement thing?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, this is temporary.”
&nbs
p; My heart sinks a little bit. I ask the question that’s been floating in my head since this started. “Then, when will it end? Before my wedding or after? Before my bridal shower? Before or after I have Neil’s baby? Or is tonight the last night? Or was last night the last night, but I got in trouble and called you? When does this end, Bryan? Because it will end, right?”
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he gets up, goes to the makeshift minibar he brought along and pours a drink. He downs it and looks back at me. “This will end when I’m through with you.”
He’s cold and the way he grips that glass makes me think he’s angry. After a moment, he turns, and grabs something from his pants pocket before heading to the bathroom. When the door shuts, I spring from the bed and race across the room to see what it was. I pick up his pants and reach into the pocket. My fingertips brush against loose pills, some long, some small. I pull them out and look down at my palm, ready to cry. He’s high.
CHAPTER 15
“Do you always go through people’s clothes when they’re in the bathroom or am I special?” Bryan sounds upset, but he’s still got that cocky grin on his face. I take the pills and throw them at him.
“High much?” I grab my clothes and start tugging them on.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Bryan rushes up to me and we struggle for a moment before he rips my shirt out of my hands and throws it across the room. “We had a deal.”
“Fuck you! Fuck your family! Fuck our deal! I hate you! I wish you never showed up again! I can’t stand this anymore! I can’t!” I’m screaming in his face and manage to get my bra hooked. “Keep the shirt, but I’m not staying and you can’t make me. Tell whomever you want. I’m done.”
He smiles sadly at the floor and then back at the shirt in his hand. “After everything we’ve been through, all I get is this shirt?”
“I’m not kidding Bryan.” I’m at the door.