Manik

by Amo Jones

  I felt like an intruder now and everything was slowly starting to become clear.

  I sit up in the bed, clutching the blanket with me. Maybe he wants me to leave? It makes sense because none of them can speak to me now. I feel unwanted and like a pest. I’ve outstayed my welcome even though I didn’t ask for it in the first place.

  I drag myself out of the bed, checking the time on my phone. I texted Kyle and Kat when I was in London, filling them in on bits that I could. They were both happy to hear from me, but Kat wanted to kill her brother. Again. I’m so thankful for their friendship.

  I flick the light on, noticing it’s just before midnight. Dragging my bag out from under the bed, I go to the bathroom, dumping all my stuff back in. My heart feels heavy and my head thuds with sadness.

  Why do I feel sad! He captured me, hunted me, and locked me up. Twice.

  I quickly zip my bag up after taking out a hoodie and some yoga pants, putting them both on. I squeeze my feet into my runners and then make my way out to the lounge. I take one more look around the place, at all the items I’ve come to know.

  Lenny’s cap sitting on the kitchen counter and the night we got tequila drunk and I

  wore it.

  Bo’s rolled up dollar bill. Unfortunately—cue the sarcasm—I don’t have a personal memory with that, but it still is Bo’s.

  X’s Nintendo DX is on the counter, no doubt with Fortnight on sleep mode or PuBG. The night he tried to teach me how to shoot people on Fortnight, but I got shot instead. He had said that I wouldn’t last long in the hood, and he was probably right.

  I step out to the foyer, shutting the door behind me and quickly make my way out onto the busy streets of Eastern Sydney.

  “Shameless”—The Weeknd

  “Do you know what you’re going to do?” Bo asks, his eyes staying on the stripper who’s rubbing her shit all over him. She makes her way toward me, but I shake my head.

  “One, I push her away and work on Dad. Two, I keep her, figure shit out with Dad, or three, I give her some fake passport, some cash, and tell her to run and never come back again.”

  “And have you made a decision?” Bo further asks, his head tilting on the stripper as he tucks dollar bills under the strap of her G-string.

  Lenny still hasn’t said a word to me after our disagreement in London.

  “Yeah,” I murmur, my eyes going to Lenny. “Got her passport and shit ready.”

  Lenny tsks under his breath, shaking his head and sinking the rest of his drink as he gets to his feet. His glare cuts to me. “It’s the wrong fucking thing to do and you know it, Ae.”

  He leaves, slamming the booth closed on his dramatic departure.

  The boys stay quiet.

  X clears his throat. “You gonna tell us why exactly this is so dangerous having her around?” he asks, flicking a toothpick around his mouth.

  “I can’t get into it, bro, but it’s a bad thing. This is the best I can do.”

  We leave not long after that, dragging Bo away from the strippers. I’ve been cold on Beat since London because I realized I had fucked up and Lenny was right. I had grown feelings for her, and I’m finally able to admit that, but that doesn’t take away the fact that I can’t have her.

  Admitting my feelings for her is step one on a list of unlimited reasons why this won’t work.

  We walk into the hotel room and I instantly know something is wrong. If Lenny didn’t come storming out of the room in a beeline for me, I would still know.

  “She’s gone.”

  I close my eyes, clenching my jaw. “I know where she’ll be.”

  “My Love”—Justin Timberlake

  The loud crashing of waves ripple over the sand, unleashing salt to dance in the air. I shiver, running my hands up and down my arms. I don’t know what I’m going to do, and for all I know, Manik is already about to kill me. Living my life in fear has become tiring, more tiring than I ever expected it to be.

  “Beatrice?” a soft voice says from behind me and I take my eyes away from the dark waves, turning my head to look over my shoulder to see who it is, when my eyes fall on the ghost girl I’ve been seeing every now and then since becoming involved with Manik.

  What. The. Hell.

  I quickly get to my feet, swiping the sand off my pants while brushing my hair out of my face. “Who are you?” I ask skeptically.

  “Ah.” She clears her throat.

  “Drop the hoodie and show me your face.” I squeeze the strap to my bag. What an absolute idiot coming to the beach on my own.

  “I can’t, I’m sorry, but Beat I don’t have much time…”

  Her voice sounds familiar in a way that I can’t quite put my finger on.

  “I’m listening,” I take the bait because she’s been following me for so long, I guess she has something important to tell me.

  “You’r—”

  “—Cub!” Manik’s voice ripples through the urgency of her tone.

  I turn toward him, my eyes popping open. Shit. I look back to the girl, but she’s gone.

  Damnit.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He steps up to me, grabbing my hand.

  I pull it away. “I’m leaving.”

  He chuckles, snatching my hand again and dragging me back toward where he came from. “Yeah, you are, but not like this.”

  I pull my hand away, fed up with the cryptic mess. “Aeron!” I scream, frustrated that he’s listening to me but not hearing me. “What is going on?”

  He turns to face me, his eyes flying around frantically and then he exhales through a dark chuckle. Pulling at his hair, he bites his fist. “Fuck it.” Then takes two steps into my space, grabs my face between the palm of his hands and smashes his lips against mine.

  I’m so shocked that it takes me a few seconds to register what is happening, but by that time comes, my mouth has opened and my tongue is in his mouth, his in mine. I moan slightly, my legs shaking. My feet feel weightless, like I could take flight any second.

  My hand comes to the back of his neck and I push into him more. It’s explosive. He lights an inferno deep inside of me and I don’t care if I burn.

  He pulls away slightly, his hands still against the sides of my head. He presses his nose to mine, shaking his head slightly. “You have to leave, Cub, this won’t work, and I need you safe, you feel me?”

  I swallow, relishing the feeling of being locked in his arms again. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to anymore.”

  He smiles, and goddammit it’s beautiful. Full white teeth stretch out from under his perfect semi-swollen lips, his dimples creasing into his cheeks. “Right person, wrong time, Cub.”

  I chew on my bottom lip, my heart sinking in my chest. “I think I love you, though.”

  He lets out a breath that sounds so pained I feel it stab right through my chest, then he drops to the sand, pulling his legs up to his chest, his eyes going out to the ocean.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.

  Why did I say that? Oh my God, I’m messed up.

  He killed my parents.

  But, after all the researching, the stories I had heard and taking into the fact that he was a twelve-year-old boy. Combining all the facts I have, I find myself not taking what he did into consideration.

  My heart doesn’t care what he has done, because Delila was right.

  I may not be a dark person with demons inside of me, I may not even have the right amount of darkness to show him the way like Kat said either, but every bit of what makes me, me was handcrafted to fill his emptiness.

  “I’m sorry,” I choke out, taking a seat beside him. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

  He shakes his head and snorts. “Nah, babe, it’s not that you said it…” he starts, then leans back on one elbow, his eyes coming to mine. “It’s that I fucking felt it when you said it. You’re lethal for me, Beatrice. You’re not just a switch to my humanity, you’re a goddamn trigger for my rage too.”

  I hide m
y face behind my arm, trying to squash the butterflies roaring in my belly.

  “I can’t say those words back to you right now, Cub, not because I don’t feel them, because…” He pauses, shakes his head and then looks back out to the ocean. I try to ignore the way his jaw clenches and his dark eyelashes fan over his high cheekbones. “Because if there’s anyone who could ever make me say them, it’s you, but I can’t, Cub. I can’t say it to you right now because those words are the key to a future I can’t offer you.”

  It’s a verbal punch to the gut, but I know he’s right.

  I sniffle, swiping the tears away from my cheeks. “I hate this.”

  “Come here.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his chest. I curl into him, my leg going over his as he lays down on his back. For a few seconds, we stay there with nothing but the sound of crashing angry waves. I can’t help but compare my feelings to the ocean right now. Calm from behind, but raging and angry once they hit the ground.

  His arm squeezes around me and he buries his face into my hair. “I’m fucking sorry about what happened in The Pen, Cub. Fuck.” The way he said fuck yanks at every nerve I have inside of me.

  I shake my head, my hand finding his. “It’s not your fault.”

  He kisses my head again, lacing our fingers together. “I’ve done some bad shit. I don’t mean bad, I mean fucking evil shit. Shit that will make you think I was made by Satan himself, and maybe I am because look who my dad is, but nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever haunt me the way those split seconds I saw you like that. I want to bring him back to life just so I can kill him all over again. He has a family, maybe I can start there to ease it back a little.” He almost murmurs the end of that sentence, like he’s sort of giving himself ideas.

  I sit up, pressing on his chest so I can look down at him. “No. Don’t do that, it’s not their fault and besides, look at how messed up our families are.”

  His eyes are on mine, his face passive. “Okay, baby.” He pulls me onto him, his face diving into my neck. “One last time.”

  I swallow past the pain, my tears streaming down my cheeks. I nod, my lips coming to his. He licks the salt off my lips and then continues licking up my cheeks. “Don’t cry, it wakes my beast and I’m trying to be gentle with you for once.”

  I kiss him again, unzipping my hoodie. “One last time.”

  But even as the words leave my mouth, I can feel my heart snapping in my chest.

  Aeron Romanov-Reed is undeniably the best thing I never had.

  Beatrice Kennedy knows everything while knowing nothing at all. She thinks she’s special to him? She’s not. I thought I was, once upon a time. There’s so much I know that she doesn’t, but not for long. She will know it all soon. All in good time, and maybe he will come back to me.

  I’ll find her behind his back and I’ll tell her everything.

  Dried leaves crack under the sole of my shoe as I peer back at them on the beach.

  Beat is on top of him, her chest is out, her tits in his hands, and then in his mouth. She runs her hands through her long jet black hair as her hips rock over him.

  He kisses her.

  He kisses her.

  Then his arm wraps around her waist and he yanks her down on top of him. I smirk. He’s still a little rough with her even though you can see he’s trying to be gentle. He bites on her nipple and tugs on it between his teeth. Her moan is enough to set birds flying out of trees. He wraps his hand in her hair, and tugs on it, but then he shoves her mouth down onto his as she rides him. They never break their kiss and the slapping of their bodies plays as a backdrop to the soaring waves.

  My face falls. He loves her.

  He’s already so obviously given her more than he ever gave me. I can’t turn her against him. It’s too late. I will just have to let them be and take the next best thing.

  Her.

  I take off on a sprint, running as fast as my legs will take me. I pass trees, streetlights, and cars in a whiz. I don’t know where I’m going and don’t know how long I’ve been running until I come to a stop.

  Sweat drips down my face, my clothes are drenched. I look up at the house I’m standing in front of, swiping my mouth.

  Three sixty-five River Ridge Road.

  Memories flash through my brain.

  “No! I have the better one, see?” I say, laughing and pointing toward my surfboard. “My aunt gave it to me.” I ran my hands over the smooth board, and when she doesn’t answer me, I looked over my shoulder.

  My eyes land on hers.

  With long black hair and the brightest green eyes I had ever seen. Beatrice Kennedy stood there with a grin.

  “Shut up, Bindi. Mine is retro.”

  “Cinema (Skrillex Remix)”—Benny Benassi

  “I can’t do goodbyes. Ever,” Lenny says, pulling me in for a hug.

  I don’t answer. I can’t. Last night is still in my mind. How can the best night of your life also be the worst night of your life? We stayed at the beach all night until the sun started to crack the sky.

  Manik is standing against the Escalade. His hoodie is over his head and his hands are in his pocket.

  I look up at Lenny, a rock in my throat. “Please look after him.”

  Lenny’s eyes soften around the edges, and he squeezes me again. “I’ll try my best, though history would show I’m not very good at that.”

  I shove him playfully. “You’ve practically known him all your life, Len, of course you can.”

  He shakes his head, kissing me on the top of my head. “Nope, I’m afraid only one person can do that, and she’s about to go AWOL.”

  He steps backward, out of my reach and my face falls.

  This sucks. I hate goodbyes.

  Bo and X both give me brief hugs, and a small nod from Manik’s driver-slash-whoever he really is.

  That leaves one more person.

  Manik pushes off the SUV, looking to the side briefly before taking me in his arms. I bury my head into the crook of his neck, where his hoodie meets his skin.

  “I love you,” I whisper, my lips trembling. Then before he can say anything else, I push away from him and run onto the plane.

  I take two steps into the jet when my legs collapse and uncontrollable cries rip out of me.

  I stay there until the flight attendant Manik uses for his jet comes down to help me, touching my arm. “Come on, Beatrice. Let’s get you in your seat, we’re about to take off.”

  I nod, swiping the snot from my nose and falling into the seat where I have sat for the last month that we’ve been touring. This whole jet is laden with memories, raw memories I never want to touch again.

  The flight attendant helps me put my belt on—because I’m apparently incapable—and then leans down next to me. “Aeron wanted you to take this. Everything you need to know is in this box. Please read it on the trip, take out the passport and the money, but everything else needs to be burned.”

  I nod, taking the small black box from her. She disappears behind the drapes and as the jet gains speed on the runway and my stomach aches in pain, I open the box and my eyes land on a photograph.

  It’s a very young looking Vlad, and my mother. They looked happy. She sat at a table on his lap while other men in suits sat around them. Vlad had a cigar hanging out of his mouth and a fedora on, grinning at the camera. The photograph is black and white, with grain and scuff covering it. My mom has her long black hair tucked behind one side and her smile is innocent, looking up at the camera.

  I can’t help but smile. That’s how I knew my mom, only wrong lap.

  I drop the photo back into the box, revealing the one behind it. It is a photo connected to a letter.

  The photo showed my mom and dad standing over a dead woman’s body, blood seeping from her head while a little boy stood in the background, his face pale and eyes dark. He looked lost, heartbroken, and stripped of his innocence.

  Aeron.

  New tears ran down my cheeks. He wasn’t lying. />
  I start reading the letter, even though the mere thought of what it could contain brings me so much pain that I can’t move.

  Vladimir Romanov.

  We had fun with your wife. Next time, this will be your precious son, daughter, or that girl you keep bonded to your house.

  Signed.

  You know who.

  I throw them back into the box like they contain some disease and then grip onto the passport and thick envelope.

  I feel sick. How can my grandparents be so sweet, so loving, when that was their daughter?

  I open up my new passport and my eyes fall on the name instantly.

  Amaya Romanov-Reed

  Air leaves me as I slam it closed again. Was that smart? Putting his last name on it? Maybe it was, because maybe Vlad will never look at the obvious.

  Those damn possessive flags…

  “Can’t C Me”—2Pac

  “You’re smart,” Lenny says as we make our way back to the hotel.

  “Questionable.” I run my finger over the top of my lip.

  “Tell me you have a plan because there is no way that I can never see her again. She became a part of our family, Ae, you can’t—”

  “—Lenny? Shut the fuck up. As you said, I’m smart.”

  He exhales in relief, leaning back against the chair. “Thank fuck. So, tell me, what’s the plan?”

  “First of all, cancel all the remaining shows. I need to get back to New Orleans.”

  “Done,” Lenny mutters, pulling out his phone and typing. Probably to Vanessa, my PR. She’s a fucking pain in my ass, but she does her job well.

  Landing back in New Orleans isn’t easy, not without Beat, but I’m focused on what the fuck I need to do. I need to call a meeting with the Bratva and get to the bottom of whatever this is, and then make sure they don’t chase Beat. That’s my main concern right now, is making sure she is safe. I have eyes on her at all times anyway, but I need to deal with my dad. He’s a threat to her, which means he’s now a threat to me.