I’ll belong to him, I thought to myself. That knowledge bore into my heart, but instead of splintering it, it burrowed in and refused to come out. “Good,” I told him. “Good.”
No backing down for either of us.
It wouldn’t be easy. Tru had told me the initiation process was brutal.
Then again, so was Mathias.
Mama, just killed a man
Mathias
After I told her she was mine, I knew what I had to do. I’d known from the start, so nothing had changed. But this would just make it harder on her and I cursed myself that I hadn’t been strong enough to stay away, to resist taking her to bed again.
She was lying half underneath me now, her hands stroking my back, my arms, tracing the tattoos. I rolled off her completely and pulled her close, so we were side by side, heads on the pillows. I grabbed the alphasmart and began to type, and she said, “Make sure you sign too.”
Because she’d been practicing, with Bish. I didn’t mean to scare you.
She’d been watching my hands, not the alphasmart, and then she glanced up at me. “I need to get used to the violence. It’s a necessary part of life now.”
It was, especially for me, and it had been for a long time. I never told you the rest of the story, what happened with Bish and his father.
She’d assumed that everything had been fine, that we’d lived happily ever after. But now, I typed how Bish had to go home a couple of times a week so he didn’t get reported as missing. How he’d come back beaten. How my parents tried to get him to report it to child protective services.
“He wouldn’t do it,” she whispered.
He refused. Said he could take it.
“Find me a reason to let him stay with your family, sir. Because if he won’t admit to anything, there’s nothing I can do to help him.” The woman from CPS looked so damned sad when she said it, like she’d seen this before.
Like she’d known how it would end. I had too. I’d known from the second I’d had the dream, the second I’d found Bish hiding, what I’d need to do.
I told Jessa all of this, and her eyes widened as she watched my hands and the alphasmart. She knew where this was headed, but I needed to tell her anyway.
I found out later that Dad had been watching over Bish since he’d turned five. He couldn’t interfere much, mainly because Bish refused to say his father was hurting him. But he gave Bish money and food and clothes...and he’d given Bish our address. That’s how Bish knew to come to me that night when he was eight—Dad told him,” if you think your father’s really going to go too far, you come to me.”
“Thank goodness for your father,” she said.
The worst night was when we were twelve and I found Bish passed out in the Bayou a mile from our house. For four years, after that first night Bish had come to us, I watched him get beaten harder and harder. He took it, and he’d come back and say it was no big deal. That it was worth it to be able to live with me and my family most of the time. It was his punishment, his father told him, for trying to give up his heritage.
“But he wasn’t trying to do that,” Jessa said, like she was pleading the case to some invisible judge who could stop the inevitable.
One night, Bish barely made it back to us. We took him to the hospital and my parents begged him to tell the police what really happened, that he hadn’t been hit by a car. That his father had nearly beaten him to death with his bare hands. But not me. I never asked him to do that. I understood why he couldn’t, and that’s why I was the only one who could.
Jessa went still.
I went to the house and I broke in. I tore up the place—vandalized it. Spray-painted it, ruined the cars out front while one of the neighbors watched—another Indian man who was older than Bish’s dad. I kept waiting for him to stop me, to ruin my plan and call the police before Bish’s dad came home, but he never did. And then I found Bish’s father’s gun and I made sure it was right where he could reach it, and then I waited for him to come home from work.
He walked in and saw me, and he grabbed his gun and started shooting. I grabbed my throwing knives, the ones I’d taken from my dad, and I was about to throw one when Bish’s dad went down.
“The neighbor,” she said, and I nodded.
I waited for the police to come. I told them that he’d caught me vandalizing his car and that he’d tried to kill me. The police questioned the neighbor and he backed up my story. He told the police that Bish’s father came at me, shooting directly at me and that he’d saved me, because he didn’t think the crime fit what Bish’s father planned on punishing me with. The neighbor wasn’t charged, but I did time in juvie for vandalism and reckless endangerment.
She understood everything now, why I believed in signs, would live and die for them. Because Bish was an important person in my life, and he’d been preparation for another one. For her.
Her eyes shone with tears, for all of us. I finished out the story.
Once the police figured out that Bish and my parents knew nothing about it, they tried to place Bish in foster homes, but he kept running away back to my house and my parents. Finally, child protective services gave up.
Bish visited me in juvie as often as I could have visitors. For three years, I lived and breathed that place and finally, I was released.
“And then, the Chaos.”
I nodded. My mom died while I was away. When I came home, Dad wasn’t the same anymore. But Bish was there for me.
“I would fight for you, Mathias. I know Bish would. I know he does. But I need you to know that I’d do the same for you. For both of you.”
You already have.
Chapter Thirty-One
Yeah mama, this surely is a dream
Jessa
It was happening. I swear the earth vibrated under my feet and the sky darkened to full night as the rumble of cars and motorcycles filled my ears. I was panicked, my throat closing and the urge to run was strong, but I fought it.
I’d wanted to stay here. It was time for me to stand up for myself and stand behind Mathias. If he was going to fight for me, I’d do the same for him. For both of us.
I stood behind him now, near the warehouse where it had all started, a day after he’d fought for me, a day after he’d told me what he’d done for Bishop. There were other men here too, Caspar and Rebel and Hammer, and of course Bishop, because this was the moment of reckoning, when we’d find how out much damage revealing the fact that I was here had done.
Mathias told me the damage had been done well before that, but I couldn’t help the guilt I felt.
I watched his shoulders—squared—his body ready for whatever happened. I wanted him to reach back and grab my hand, but he didn’t. Instead, Keller got out of his car and the LoVs who’d followed him left their bikes and formed a line in front of us.
There were no supply trucks.
“Caspar, I thought we could come to terms on this,” Keller said after a long moment. “Instead, you parade the men who killed my son in front of me.”
“Twelve men against two seemed more than fair,” Caspar pointed out, and I thought back to that terrible, wonderful day. “Not sure what your terms are. Last we talked, you wanted something I wasn’t willin’ to give. That hasn’t changed.”
“What hasn’t changed is that that bitch’s mine,” Keller said with a jerk of his head in my direction.
“No one owns me,” I shot back before I could stop myself. I waited to be told to shut up, because that’s what happened when women spoke in my world. Instead, Tru put a hand on my shoulder and Mathias stared Keller down as he signed.
Bishop translated. Now that we’ve made that clear, there’s nothing left to say.
“Not that easy, mute.”
I stepped up next to Mathias in time to see him smile, and th
at smile made Keller shift before he could catch himself. Mathias’s smile unnerved a lot of people, because he’d throw it out when that would be the necessarily expected response. And Keller’s response reflected a small, subtle shift in power that made my stomach unclench a little.
Caspar stepped up past us. I was still scared of him, even though I saw how sweet he was to Tru. And seeing him now, I’d been right to be scared. It wasn’t only the scar and the icy eyes, but his whole demeanor. Caspar was the kind of man you knew was trouble, deep down.
Which made Mathias scarier—you didn’t see him coming.
All of the men circled around me, a protective shield, but no one told me not to speak.
LoV sneered, “When women open their mouths, we use ’em for one thing only.”
Bishop translated for Mathias. Funny, that’s what we say the LoVs are for.
He grabbed his crotch and smirked. The LoV lunged forward but no one on our side moved at all. I forced myself still, took my cues from the men. Tru’s hand held me steady too.
When the LoV was right in Mathias’s face, I realized it was the same man who’d been guarding me and leering at me for my two weeks in captivity. He’d constantly made lewd jokes, leered and watched me pee. And I’d heard him talking too, about how they should fuck me before Keller got me. How Keller’d never know if they gave me enough time to heal. How Keller was going to use me until I wasn’t fresh anymore and sell me anyway.
“You want to start a war over gash?”
I want to start a war because I like killing LoVs.
Bishop’s voice, Mathias’s hands, but everyone was staring at Mathias. He had a presence and Bishop had a way of speaking when translating for Mathias, letting Mathias’s presence take over. Because when Bishop spoke for himself, there was no mistaking his own presence.
The LoV growled and Mathias bared his teeth, ready to fight. Primed to. But his stance was relaxed—zero emotion—and almost a touch of amusement.
They had no idea how truly dangerous he was. I don’t think I did, not until this very minute. I should’ve been terrified but in reality, it thrilled me.
“You killed my men, then hid the evidence,” Keller said.
“We burned the bodies so the evil didn’t spread,” Bishop corrected.
If we were hiding, why invite you?
“Because you’re a dumb fucking mute.”
Again with Mathias’s amused look. He loved being underestimated.
Before anyone could react—or blink—Mathias had the LoV on his knees, two fingers on the man’s neck, pressing the man’s face close to his dick.
I could make you my bitch right now, Mathias signed and Bishop translated. But I don’t like you enough to let you do that.
The LoV’s eyes went wide and then he dropped back when Mathias let go of him. Mathias remained where he’d been and watched the man on the ground in front of him for a long moment before meeting Keller’s eyes.
Gotta have a better class of watchdog.
“You up for the job?” Something in the way Keller asked chilled me.
You’re not getting her back.
Keller stared at Mathias for another beat, then smiled. “You’re willing to let me cut Defiance off then?”
“Guess you’re not wanting tubes then?” Caspar interjected.
“Threatening me?”
“Yes,” Caspar said. “Push me and I push back harder.”
Ain’t no easy way
Mathias
Caspar told Rebel to get Jessa out of there, and even though she didn’t want to, she complied. Caspar didn’t say a word until he was sure he was out of earshot, and then he asked Keller, “What’re you offering?”
I wasn’t stupid—I knew exactly what he’d been planning, and my show was simply to reiterate I could do the damned job with a hand tied behind my back.
Keller looked at me when he spoke. “It’s either the bitch or you.”
“What would you do with him?” Caspar asked Keller.
“Fight him. He’s gotta earn out the money I would’ve gotten from Charlie. Then he’s free.” Keller made it sound so simple, and talked about me like I wasn’t fucking there. I knew why Caspar did that, but I still hated him for it at that moment. Because I wasn’t Defiance and these decisions were mine.
Again, Bish’s hand on my shoulder grounded me. He knew the thoughts swirling through my head and he’d accept them.
But the answer was the one I’d originally screamed inside my mind when Keller first proposed the trade. I’ll do it. I’ll take on the debt.
Keller smiled and I prepared to go into the depths of hell, not sure if I’d ever see daylight again. But first, there was one more thing I had to take care of. I’ll double your money if you tell the Secret Service that you never saw a girl with Charlie if they come calling.
Keller rubbed his chin. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
Because otherwise, we tell them that you and the LoV kidnapped her. And she’s a pretty compelling witness.
Bish’s voice was so tense as he translated—more out of anger than anything, even though I knew he understood why I was doing this, offering myself upon Keller’s altar.
“It’s a deal. But how do you know I won’t tell them you killed Charlie?” Keller asked.
Because you love your money more than revenge.
* * *
I was packing, because, according to the terms, Keller would leave Jessa—and Defiance—alone, return to business as usual with Defiance and its food and gasoline source if I followed his car back to his compound today.
That was better. I wanted out before Jessa got word of it anyway. But I couldn’t escape Bish that easily. He caught me hurriedly packing things from the van inside my duffel and said, “You’re really going.”
I almost said, I don’t have a choice, but he’d call me on taking the easy way out. So I signed, Yes.
“Let me go instead.”
Keller doesn’t want you—he wants me. I’ll be fine.
Bish stared at me, because I was still lying. “You won’t. This will change you, Mathias.”
And it won’t change you?
“You know it won’t. I was born this way.”
And you know I never believed that.
“You always believed in me. Don’t stop now.”
I started walking and he walked beside me. We didn’t say anything until we saw Keller’s cars waiting on the ridge, and my bike parked behind them. I wondered if Bish had put it there, or if he’d refused and Caspar had made Rebel do it.
I didn’t ask, just said, I do believe in you, Bish.
“You love her, yes?”
Yes.
“And I love you enough to make sure that doesn’t get taken away.”
I believed him, but I got on my bike and rode away from him anyway. It was odd not to be in my van, not to have Bish by my side. Actually, it felt like I was cutting out a rib but I revved the throttle and hit the road as if he’d chase me.
But when I looked in the rearview, he was just standing there, watching me. I kept glancing at him as he got smaller and smaller until I went over the rise and he finally disappeared.
Between each line of pain and glory
Jessa
I waited forever, it seemed, until I’d heard the LoVs’ motorcycles drive away and I finally let out a sigh of relief. They’d gone, and I hadn’t heard a single gunshot, not even yelling. I paced until my legs ached, and the second I sat down, my eyes closed.
I opened them with a jerk, a couple of hours later, and I fully expected to find Mathias next to me. But even though I was still alone, I knew he’d been there, because I saw the lone tape, sitting on the table next to me.
I reached for it, saw Mathias’s handwriting.
It was brand-new, a mix—one he’d made just for me. And they were all the songs I’d talked about with him, the ones on my favorite playlists, all left behind on the iPod back in D.C. He’d found the songs for me, bought them, because we’d talked about how music was at such a premium and was considered a luxury item these days.
But why hadn’t he waited to give them to me himself?
It was only then that I saw the other tape. I didn’t recognize all the songs, but there was one song on there that chilled me.
I’d told him that I thought the song, “Best Thing that Ever Happened to Me,” was the saddest song ever.
Why’s that?
“Because it sounds like one of them got left behind and all they have are their memories.”
Sounds like they’re damned good memories though.
“No. He couldn’t have...” I said out loud and slammed out of the house.
Rebel followed me, calling my name, but I ignored him and he didn’t try to stop me.
“Where is he? Where’s Mathias?” I demanded when I found Tru. She was with Aimee by the infirmary, and she looked like she might’ve been crying.
“You don’t know,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Know what?”
Tru pulled me aside, made me sit on the bench next to her. “Keller wanted Mathias.”
“For what?”
“For you. In exchange for you.”
“What are you talking about? Keller wanted to sell me.”
“He’s not selling Mathias. Keller wants him to fight until he wins back every cent Charlie would’ve paid for you.”
I put a hand to my heart, made a fist. “How...how long will that take?”
Tru’s expression shuttered and I knew the amount of money Mathias was expected to win back was so ridiculous that it would never happen. Mathias had sold himself into some kind of slavery. For me. “I didn’t want him to do that.”
“You didn’t have a choice, Jessa. He wouldn’t let you be sold. And if he didn’t do it, Defiance would’ve lost too much. Mathias knew this was the best way to make peace for what he’d done.”
Redemption: A Defiance Novel Page 20