by Sara V. Zook
She shrugged. “What do you suggest?”
“What do I suggest?” I laughed. I should get this girl liquored up. “You look like a tequila girl to me.”
“Really?” Her eyes lingered on my face for a few moments before she shrugged again and said, “Sure. Why not?”
I was a pretty good looking guy, and I knew it. I always let my jet black hair grow out to the edge of my ears as just a little something for the girls to run their fingers through. I was thin but pretty well built. I wasn’t a great eater and I worked out as much as I could, so that probably helped make me look a little ripped. And I had a dimple, one that the girls were always shoving their finger in and doting all over as adorable. That was me, fucking adorable.
“How about a glass of wine, too?” she asked, batting her eyelashes at me.
Her cheeks had a little too much blush on them, her lipstick smeared a little past her lips, but she wasn’t bad looking under these dim lights. “That’s quite a combination.” I motioned for the bartender again. “Get the lady a shot of tequila and glass of wine.”
“Red or white?” the man questioned her.
“Red,” she answered as the bartender left again. “So I haven’t seen you around here before. Usually it’s the same crowd. Where you from?”
I had figured on just being alone all night, getting a room and passing out, but I could tell this girl couldn’t contain herself from walking over here and hitting on me, so I’d keep up the chit-chat for a little while even though it annoyed me to do so. “Not Haven. How about you? You from around here?”
She nodded. “Grew up just a few blocks away.”
The bartender slapped a napkin down on the counter and placed her glass of wine on top of it.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Steph.” She pushed a strand of short hair behind her ear revealing long, dangling silver earrings with way too many fake diamonds in them. They made her look even cheaper.
“Steph. I like that name.”
She pulled out a pack of cigarettes from her purse and placed one in between her lips. “Want one?”
“Sure.”
She lit it for me and she let her own cigarette rest between her fingers as it burned. She gulped down the shot of tequila. Another drop of rain fell from my hair and down the side of my cheek. She caught it with her finger. “What about you? What should I call you?”
I gave her my half grin again as I paused to think. My cousin’s name popped into my head. “Stan.”
“Stan?” she repeated, her stare moving from my eyes to my lips and then back up again. “You sure don’t look like a Stan to me.”
“Gee, thanks.” I chuckled.
The beat of the band changed to slow. Steph clapped her hands together in excitement. “I just love this song, don’t you?”
I listened for a few seconds, not even recognizing what it was. “Yeah, one of my favorites.”
She finished off her wine and jumped down off her stool. She put one hand on her hip. “Dance with me, Stan.”
“I don’t really feel like dancing. You go. I’ll watch from here.”
She latched onto my arm and pulled me from my chair. “Please dance with me, Stan!” she yelled out, her eyes pleading.
I let her drag me out there as she wrapped her arms around me and clung just a little too tight, her skin stinking of cigarettes and strong floral perfume. She looked up at me with glassy eyes and pressed her chin against my chest. I smiled down at her and moved her all across the dance floor. This girl was looking for a good time, and I’d take her up on it as long as she made me forget about the things I had seen earlier. The good thing about Haven was unlike back home in Lazerne, no one knew a damn thing about me here.
CROSS
I reapplied the lipstick again, a deep shade of pink, as I looked myself over in the mirror. The clock was ticking on the dresser, the sound irritating. I didn’t have to look at it to know how late Mark was. I had a business dinner to attend, and that piece of shit promised me he’d be here—on time. I could just leave without him, but then I’d get a hundred questions at work about why he wasn’t there. The gossip at work was disgusting. The rumors would be instant if I showed up alone. This is why I had explained to him, very specifically before I left this morning, that I needed him here on time and ready to go. I wasn’t asking for too much. It’s not like I had these meetings all the time. He could at least pretend like he cared. Mark said he was going to his friend’s house but he promised—again—that he’d be here. He had the stupid grin on his face when he asked me if I had any cash on me, that he needed to put gas in his truck. I rolled my eyes and sighed as I pulled a twenty from my purse and handed it over. Then I left for work. I had been worried all day that he wouldn’t be here.
My cell phone started ringing. I patted a stray piece of dark blonde hair back in place on the top of my head as I got up to get it. I was hoping it was the cops letting me know they found Mark’s pathetic body in the ditch he belonged in, but no, I would have no such luck. It was Shayna, my best friend. I put the phone up to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hey. I didn’t think you’d answer. I figured you’d be off at your dinner already,” Shayna stated.
I sighed loudly. “Yeah, well, me too.”
“He’s not there yet, is he?” she asked. She knew all too well how Mark was. She’d heard me complain about him numerous times, and she was about to hear it all again right now. I was bursting at the seams to vent to someone.
“No, he’s not.”
“That asshole—“
“I don’t even get it. He can’t do one thing right, not even for me. I mean, I know he doesn’t want to go, but neither do I. I have to spend all day with these people. I don’t exactly want to spend time with them in the evening, too, but I have to show face. He knows this.”
“Lilah, he doesn’t care. He never has. He never will. I can’t stand the way he degrades you. He is the biggest asshole I know, and seriously, I know a lot of assholes. Did he find a job?”
I grunted.
“Well, that says it all,” Shayna remarked.
I sat down on the stool in front of my vanity and pouted. “I hate him, Shayna.”
“I hate him, too. I have for a long time. You need to get your ass to the doctor and get your tubes tied so you don’t have any of his lazy spawn.”
That made me chuckle. “I’m on the pill…”
“So what? You know how many people I know who have still gotten pregnant on the pill?” she blabbered off.
Shayna was the only one who stayed by my side through this whole ordeal. She was my college roommate and cut from a similar cloth. She had married her college sweetheart and had two very small children, both boys, who took up all her time. I didn’t get to see her much anymore, but she always called. She kept me sane. She was like a sister to me.
“Why are you with him again? I hate to say it like that, Lilah, but the whole world is wondering the same thing.”
That stung and just made my mood plummet further. Everyone saw Mark for what he was even before I married him, everyone but me. I felt like the biggest fool, and I didn’t like to admit that people were probably making snide remarks behind my back all the time. “It’s not that easy, Shayna.”
“What’s so hard about it? Just leave.”
I watched myself in the mirror as I talked. “I have nowhere to go. Dad cut me off, remember?”
“So what?” Shayna seemed to have it all figured out, but then again, she wasn’t in my shoes. No one was. No one wanted to be. “That was how long ago? I’m sure he misses you like crazy. You were everything to him. Who knows if you didn’t walk up to his door that he wouldn’t take you back in?”
“It would be the walk of shame,” I told her.
“At least you’d get out of the life of shame.”
I didn’t say anything. This conversation was starting to piss me off. Who the hell gave her the right to call me up and start on me like this? She knew ho
w things were. Why was she being like this?
“I’m sorry, Lilah. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m out of line.”
“You’re right. You are.” I knew she picked up on how pissy I was.
“I just love you, you know. I hate seeing you so freakin’ miserable. You know you can come live with me and Jake anytime. We’ll welcome you with open arms.”
“Yeah, thanks.” I wasn’t about to intrude on Shayna’s life. Not now. Not ever. I heard the sound of Mark’s obnoxiously loud truck pulling up in the driveway. “Well, the asshole is finally home. I’m off to my dinner. Better late than never I suppose.”
“Good luck,” Shayna said.
“Thanks,” I uttered, placing the phone in my purse and glancing across the room at the heels I was planning on wearing with this little black dress.
The front door opened and closed. Anger surged through me. I wanted to punch Mark in the face. I took a few deep breaths as he came into the bedroom covered in car grease. “Where the hell have you been?” I put my hands on my hips, annoyed with how filthy he was.
“I told you I was helping Frank out with his car.” He breezed past me as if annoyed right back that I was questioning him.
“You said you’d be here,” I reminded him, on the verge of flipping out but somehow able to push it deep down inside.
“Whatever,” Mark snapped. “There you go with your nagging shit again.”
Nagging shit. I closed my eyes, seeing red. It wasn’t worth starting a fight right now. I had to get him out the door. He went into the bathroom and closed the door. The sink water was turned on. How embarrassing. It was too late for him to take a shower. I was going to have to suffice with him just washing up. He was going to smell like grease and body odor, and I was going to have to face all those people who knew he was my husband. Maybe I had been better off going alone and facing the I bet he left her rumors.
“I’ll be ready in five!” he yelled out from the bathroom.
It would take a lot more than five minutes to clean up the mess Mark was. All I could think about was how for weeks I told him about the shimmy in my own car. He had disregarded it, but yet the moment one of his friends calls him, he’s running over to their house to help fix their shit.
I sat down on the vanity stool again and stared at the angry woman before me. She was tired and worn down. So pathetic. This woman I was looking at was exactly the kind of woman I’d sworn I’d never be. The same question kept ruminating in my mind—how the hell did I let this happen?
CAIN
I stared up at the motel ceiling, the discolored tiles sagging around the light from old water leaks. The fan was on and I watched it go around and around as I tried to wrap my mind around what the hell had just happened to me tonight.
All I could think about was that guy’s deformed face, shot off by Seton. The scene seemed to be on repeat in my head. That was the most horrific thing I’d ever seen in my entire life. And then Seton just walked away from it all like it was nothing. How many times had he seen something like that? How many times had he done something like that?
My stomach churned from the worry that ate away at it. I was worried about what would happen next. Would my name come up? Would the police come question me? I didn’t even do anything. And how long does a person wait for their life to go to complete shit? Is there a certain waiting period that when it’s up, you’re safe to go on without thinking something like a murder is going to creep back up on you again, that you’re safe from getting locked up? I wouldn’t doubt that someone like Carmine and Seton would throw me to the wolves, pin the whole goddamn thing on me. I was nothing to them. I couldn’t afford to get locked up right now—or ever. My mother was sick, real sick, and I was all she had.
“What’d the doctor say?” I had asked her, my eyes scanning over the unpaid medical bill lying on the table, another one to add to the pile.
She sighed. She looked so defeated. Her eyes were dull, her cheeks sunken in. She ran a hand over top of the bandana she wore on her bald head. The chemo had left her looking like the walking dead. She was barely recognizable, and my heart throbbed seeing her this way. It literally had taken all I had not to burst out crying from just the sight of her. How many hours had she spent puking her guts out in the bathroom, sleeping on the bathroom floor lately? It was fucking sad that the one thing that was supposed to kill the cancer also seemed to kill the woman who had taken care of me, singlehandedly, her entire life. It was like she was fighting a battle that was already lost. It terrified me. And these bills—they just added to our misery. If we didn’t come up with some money, the treatments couldn’t continue, and my mother would have no chance against the cancer at all.
“Listen, Nicky, sit.” She pointed to the chair beside her. I sat down and stared at her. She didn’t even have any eyelashes anymore. She used to be so pretty. “I know someone.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Okay—”
“He needs a favor. I’ve already made the necessary phone calls. You’re good to go.”
“What does that mean, Mom? I’m good to go?”
She half-smiled. It seemed like even talking wore her out anymore. She shoved a piece of paper my way. “Here’s the address. Just do what he wants you to do. Then he’ll pay you. It’ll help with these bills. It’ll help get me more chemo.”
I read the address. “This is in Haven?”
She nodded. “It’s not too far from Lazerne, Nicky. Just show up there. Take Stan’s car up.”
I had grown up in Lazerne, a quiet, small, piece of shit town that was about an hour away from Haven. I had never attempted to venture to the city. I never needed to before, and I sure as hell didn’t have the money to party there either. “What’s the favor?” She was being secretive, and it was weird.
She patted my hand in reassurance. “I don’t know. I’m sure nothing much. You’ll do this for me, Nicky? For us?” Her eyes pleaded with me.
I stared at her for a few moments. This whole set up left me feeling uneasy and little did I know what I was walking into.
“Yeah, Mom, of course.”
She struggled to get out of her chair. I stood up to help her. She was so weak. It was as if she was going to melt into a puddle and slip between my fingers.
“Who is this someone, anyway?”
She allowed me to help her over to the couch. I found the remote and handed it to her so she could watch TV. She looked up at me with eyeballs that seemed to pop out of her skeleton face. “They call him Carmine.”
The fan made a clicking sound as it went around. How had my mom even come into contact with someone like Carmine? What even was the favor he needed? I mean, come on, I didn’t exactly do anything but follow Seton around and just physically be there. My mom had led a relatively peaceful life. She supported me with what she could get through working at a local grocery store in Lazerne for as long as I could remember right up until she was diagnosed with that liver cancer. I had grown up in a house that frequently had problems with mice and insects, but it was home. My mom had made it home. And now I was in Haven in a dump hotel room after just watching some guy get killed.
I turned my head to look at the cash piled up on the nightstand beside the bed. It was a lot of money, way more than I deserved for just being there with Seton, but I’d take it. My mom needed it, and she was right, it was more than enough to cover those medical bills and enough left over to start up her chemo again.
Maybe I was thinking too hard about all of this. Maybe it would be all right and nothing would come out of my being there with Seton. Maybe my mom would actually get to live because of this.
An arm slipped around my chest. I looked over at the naked girl lying beside me and smiled at her.
“You okay?” she asked as her fingertips lightly glided along my skin, her nails painted dark red.
“Yeah,” I told her. “Just can’t sleep.”
She smiled back as she snuggled up closer to me. I stared at her face. She had light blue eyes t
hat wrinkled at the corners when she spoke. Her teeth were a little crooked, but I decided she was an okay looking girl, a little ragged, but not bad. She hadn’t talked that much. She closed her eyes as I continued to stare at her.
“Hey,” I said, nudging her awake again. “What’d you say your name was again?”
She smiled and sat up on her elbows, pulling the sheet up over her exposed chest. “Steph.”
That’s right. Steph. I remembered now.
“You said you liked it,” she reminded me. “You know, my name?” She grinned, revealing those teeth again, which was a little frightening. Maybe I was wrong. Those teeth completely changed my opinion about her being okay looking. I didn’t want to see that smile again.
I turned my back to her and sat on the edge of the bed. I raked my fingers through my hair and put on some shorts. I thumbed through a few bills from the stack of cash Carmine had given me. “Yeah, sure. Steph suits you just fine.” I turned and handed her some money. “You’d better get going.”
She pressed her lips together and frowned as she examined the money in her hand. “Stan, what the hell is this?”
Stan? Then I remembered why she was calling me that. “What do you mean what’s it for? It’s for last night.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ hooker, you asshole!” she bellowed out.
“You’re not?”
“No!”
Holy shit. I could’ve sworn she was a prostitute. I wanted to ask her if she was sure, but I figured that probably wouldn’t go over too well. “Oh, well, sorry then. You can keep the money just the same.”
She glared at me with these huge eyes as if she didn’t know whether she was going to keep the money or punch me in the face. I deserved the punch in the face either way. She angrily got dressed and headed to the door as she slipped her heels on. “I have never been so insulted in my whole life.”
I shrugged. I just wanted her to go. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
“Don’t ever look me up again if you’re back in Haven,” Steph warned me.