by Fox, Harley
My teeth clamp down together and I feel the soft meat of his tongue squeeze between them.
A harsh voice. A choking sound. Flynn’s eyes fly open and he tries pulling away, but I keep my teeth pressed closed. I’m digging into him, and as I do I feel the hand on my throat tighten. He looks scared, but he’s fighting back. I don’t have much time. I look down and see his feet are planted. Shifting my weight to one leg, I bring the other one up and connect my knee directly with his balls.
Now that choking sound is heavier. The hand on my throat loosens and the tongue in between my teeth is pulling down as Flynn starts to double over. Both of his hands are off me now as they go down to cradle himself. I open my jaws but swiftly grab onto his shirt, stopping him from doubling over completely. Lifting his shoulders and head up, I hit the back of my head against the wall trying to bring it back. But it doesn’t matter. Throwing it forward, I smash the bone of my forehead against the soft cartilage of Devon’s nose. The sickening crunch I hear is more satisfying than any other sound I’ve heard in my life.
Devon’s eyes shut closed as blood spurts out of his broken nose. He stumbles back in a half-crouch, taking only a few steps before falling to the floor. This man who once intimidated me so badly is now a wheezing mess, a pile on the ground.
“Fuck you,” I say to him, my voice coming out harsh and raw. It hurts to swallow, but I don’t care. “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again.”
Devon coughs and more blood comes out of his nose, dribbling down the side of his face. He makes a noise as his hand finds the tile floor and he pushes himself up to standing, his waist still drawn back a little. I make sure to stay where I am as he looks up at me.
“You bitch,” he says. The blood is getting onto his lips, but he doesn’t make to wipe it away.
“I’m the bitch?” I ask. “You’re a fucking rapist. You’d better believe I’m telling the captain about this. Kiss your fucking job goodbye.”
And to my surprise and disgust, Devon laughs, shaking his head.
“Go ahead,” he tells me. “It won’t make a difference.”
My brow furrows. “What the fuck does that mean?”
And then Devon actually rolls his eyes at me.
“Whatever. I’m outta here. Slut.”
And with that he turns and hobbles out of the women’s locker room, the door shutting behind him, leaving me alone.
Alone.
All of a sudden reality comes crashing back into my head and my breath hitches as I wrap my arms around my bare chest. I let out a few sobs, dry ones, struggling to keep the tears inside of me. When I’ve got myself under control, I swallow my emotions back down and let go of myself.
It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.
Not wanting to be naked right now, I go back to my locker to get dressed, finally ready to go back home.
Flynn
Trista’s been acting strange lately.
It was, what, five days ago that she came to the bar and asked me to talk? To be completely honest, at first when she started going on about plans for the future, and whether or not being in the Bullets was what I really wanted, I thought she was going to ask me … well, I thought she was going to ask me to run away with her. Leave this place and the Bullets. Start a new life with her. That’s what I thought she was going to ask.
And I knew exactly what my answer would have been. But she didn’t ask that.
Instead she just got all weird, and said she had to go. And I’ve hardly seen her since then. In fact, today’s the first day I’ve really seen her, and that’s just because Maddox called a meeting for today. Probably to talk about the buildings we’ve been gutting.
Oh man, does my back ache. We were assigned demolition work on half a dozen more places over the past four days, all one right after another. Work has really ramped up, and after a month of hardly doing anything it feels like I’ve been training to go into the Special Forces or something. I reach around and rub my lower back, trying to soothe those aching muscles. As I do I catch a glance at Trista, standing and waiting with the rest of us for Maddox to start the meeting.
Trista wasn’t at any of the guttings. I wanted to ask her why not, but like I said, this is the first time I’ve seen her in the past five days. And besides, she’s always had a life besides this one. I don’t blame her for that.
I just wish she would let me in a little bit.
Because I think about her. A lot. Every new office we went to reminded me of the one she and I did together, where we sneaked into the back and made love for the first time.
That’s what happened that day. We made love.
Now I can’t get her off of my mind. I wish she had asked if I wanted to run away with her. I wish I had said it myself. But I didn’t want to scare her off. Now I’m not sure what she wants at all. She looks distant, standing beside me. Depressed, even. I take a hand off my lower back and touch her lightly on the arm. She turns and looks at me.
“Hey,” I say in a low voice. “How’re you doing?”
“Fine,” Trista says too quickly. “I’m fine. How are you?”
I grin. “Sore, and not for the good reasons.”
She forces a smile, but it quickly drops. I bite my lip and lean my head in closer.
“Listen,” I say. “I kind of think you’ve been going through something lately. And even though I don’t know what it is, and it’s fine if you don’t want to tell me what it is, I just want you to know that if you ever want to talk about anything, or even just need a hug, I’m here for you.”
Now Trista smiles—a real smile.
“Thanks,” she whispers back. I smile and lean in that last little bit, giving her a quick kiss on the lips. We both straighten up, my hand falling from Trista’s arm back to my side.
It’s not much longer until Maddox comes out of his office. The small conversations die down as he approaches the group. He isn’t smiling—of course, lately Maddox hasn’t been smiling in general.
“Hey gang,” he says. “So we’ve done some pretty great work over the last four days. I know it’s been grueling, but it was all worth it. Will said he’s been around to each of the buildings and that they’re good, they’re ready to be built up. He’s actually going to be coming by soon to give us more info about what’s coming next.”
“He didn’t tell you what’s happening next?” Trista asks. Several heads turn to look at her, Maddox included.
“No, he thought it would be better to let us know in person,” Maddox tells her. “But I do know that we’ve got enough spaces to get things underway. Which means no more demolition, so good work everyone.”
Some people cheer and others give short applause, but I know for a fact that everyone’s as sore as I am. We were all bitching about it in the bar last night.
“And that’s about all I’ve got to say until Will comes by,” Maddox concludes.
“When’s he coming by?” Tyrone asks.
“He said he’s on his way,” Maddox tells him.
So we wait around for Will to show up. After a few minutes Chloe grabs a chair and sits around, and others take her lead and begin dispersing, sitting on chairs, on the table. I’d give anything just to lie down with Trista in my arms and fall asleep, but I’ll have to wait for that. Maybe tonight. Or maybe we won’t have to wait that long …
The front door bangs open and everybody’s attention turns to it. In walks two men, Will being the one in front. It’s a moment before I recognize the guy behind him.
“Good morning everybody!” Will calls out to us. “You all remember my son Craig, of course?”
Nobody says anything. Myself, I’m trying to hold down the sneer that’s threatening to come to my face. You don’t quickly forget the man who called on the massacre of half your gang, not to mention the Slingers and Chains. He’s acting like it’s all behind us, but eight months is not a long time when it comes to the death of your closest friends.
Craig saunters up behind his dad, that shit-eating g
rin plastered on his face.
“Now now, Maddox,” Craig says in a cocky voice. “Shouldn’t these dogs have manners? Say hello to your future boss!”
A beat of silence passes, and then mutters of greeting issue out of people’s mouths. I hear vague threats and swear words peppered in there too, but neither Craig nor Will seem to notice as Will claps his hands together.
“Well!” he says. “I have some great news for you all. Firstly, great work on clearing out those office buildings. They’re being outfitted as we speak, and operations should be up and running by early next week. If everything goes smoothly, we should be able to produce three hundred pounds every week. The quantity isn’t as high as we’d like it to be, but we’ve now got a formula that has less disastrous effects.”
“You mean people aren’t dying from snorting your stuff?” Trista calls out.
I spin around and stare at her. She’s not looking at me, but is looking directly at Will Silver. He pauses in the middle of his speech and looks back at Trista.
“That’s right,” he says to her. “We’ve managed to get the mortality rate down to two percent, much lower than it was before.”
“Two percent?” Trista repeats. “So every person in fifty is going to die or get sent to the hospital?”
The tension in the room is high. Nobody speaks back to Will Silver. Half of me is worried that he’s going to just take out his gun and shoot her, right here and now. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. I suppose I’d shoot him in return. Then I would surely die. But at least Trista and I would die together.
Luckily none of that happens. Instead Will narrows his eyes a little and cocks his head.
“You look awfully familiar …” he says in a slow voice, and I see Trista’s eyes widen a little bit.
“She’s been with the gang about a month now,” Maddox chimes in, obviously trying to defuse the situation. “Trista’s her name.”
“Yes … Trista,” Will says. And then, “Glad to have you on board.”
He turns his attention back to the group at large, as though nothing had happened.
“On to my second topic of business,” Will says. “I have a job for you all. There’s a woman who I need taken care of: Jeannette Willow. I wanted her gone a month and a half ago, but we lost our two best men and with them, their information. Now that things have calmed down a bit, I’ve got another lead on her. There is one other thing, though: she has a child, a baby boy. He needs to be taken care of as well. I don’t care how you do it, just that it needs to be done.”
I blink. This is the same baby he wanted killed before? What the fuck?
It seems I’m not the only one put off by this, because several people begin talking.
“Wait, did you say you want us to kill a baby?”
“That mother and her kid?”
“How the hell are we supposed to kill a baby and make it look like an accident?”
“I don’t care how you do it,” Will says, cutting everybody off. “It just needs to be done.”
“Don’t you have, you know, certain people to do this kind of thing?”
“Like I said, my two best men were lost.”
“That fire,” Chloe pipes up. “Mario’s, right? They died in that fire.”
“They’re gone,” Will says. “That’s all you need to know. Now don’t question me. Do it however you want, just make sure it’s done. End of discussion.”
This meeting is not going well. Everybody looks uneasy, uncomfortable. Will takes a moment to compose himself, and then he smiles at us.
“Item number three, and the last item on the docket: the Chains. Your truce is over. I’d like you all to be the ones to let them know.”
Nobody speaks for a moment as Will looks around at us.
“Didn’t you hear my dad?” Craig finally adds. “He said the truce with the Chains is over! So go over there and fuck them up!”
“When did the truce end?” Maddox asks.
“Right now,” Will says.
“Wait, so they don’t know?” Jackie asks him. “You want us to just go over there and ambush them?”
“That’s exactly right,” Will says, his smile melting away. “I want you all to get onto your little crotch rockets and ride your way over to that little fucking hideout of theirs and then kick in the doors and beat them all to shit. Is there something about that you don’t understand?”
I glance over at Trista, wondering if she’s going to speak out like she did before, but she just looks quiet. She looks shocked.
“It won’t be a fair fight,” I decide to say, and several people agree with me. “That’s not how we do things.”
“Excuse me?” Will asks, his eyes narrowing in on me. “That’s not how we do things? Tell me, who runs the Bullets? Who is the one who made you who you are?”
His eyes are locked onto mine and I can feel my hackles raising. My dislike of this man is growing with every second. But he’s still the boss. So I say, “You are.”
“You’re fucking right I am,” Will says, taking his eyes from mine and sweeping them over the group. “And nobody here forget that. I’m the one in charge, and when I give an order, everybody had better fucking obey it.”
“Yeah, you hear that, you little pussy wimps?” Craig asks. “Now get off your fat asses and do as my dad says!”
Will spins on his heel and stalks out of the warehouse, Craig following shortly behind him. When the front door closes behind them people begin protesting, all about this upcoming attack on the Chains.
“Maddox, we aren’t really doing this, are we?”
“I’m sorry Alyssa, we have to.”
“But it’s not fair!”
“I know it isn’t, Chris.”
“Maddox, fucking do something!”
“All right everybody, listen up!” Maddox calls out, quieting down the room. “You all heard Will. These are direct orders, and as much as none of us likes the idea of it, it’s still something we have to do.”
People start talking over one another, but I hear Matthias speak up:
“Like kill that little kid? Is that something we still have to do?”
“Yes Matthias, it is,” Maddox says, wheeling on him. “You think I’m happy about this? This is the first I’ve heard of any of this! Okay? It’s as much a shit job to me as it is to you!”
“Why didn’t you find out about it sooner?” Trista asks.
“You shut the fuck up,” Maddox says, pointing at her. “Talking back to Will like that, I thought he was going to shoot you right then and there. You’re fucking lucky, missy.”
“We still don’t want to ambush the Chains,” Chloe says. Maddox sighs.
“I know. Neither do I,” he says. “But let’s just … get drunk and then it’ll be easier. Jackie, Matthias, go grab a couple cases of beer. We’re going to need it.”
Jackie and Matthias do as Maddox says, slumping their way to the fridges in the back. I look at Trista and she’s got a strange look on her face.
“Hey,” I say to her, and she looks at me. “I’m going to grab some fresh air. Wanna join me?”
She nods, and the two of us break away from the group toward the back door. Nobody tries to stop us. We push it open and step out into the morning sunlight, the door slamming shut behind us. I take in a deep breath through my nose and let it out. Out here it’s much quieter than it is in there.
“Jesus Christ, this is fucked,” I say to her.
Trista doesn’t say anything for a moment, and then, “Yeah … it is.”
I look over at her, squinting in the sunlight.
“Hey,” I say to her. “What’s wrong? You’ve been acting strangely all morning.”
“Nothing,” Trista says, too quickly. “I’m just tired.”
“Not as tired as we are, I bet,” I tell her. “You missed out on all the guttings. Seriously, six places in four days. By the time we got to the last one we were ready to throw ourselves into the bin, just to get out of doing it.”
Trista gives a fleeting smile and I can see a shimmer of hope.
“But you know, I really missed you this past week,” I say, and she looks up at me. “Having you around … it makes all this boring work seem not so boring.”
She’s silent for a moment again.
“I’ve missed you too,” she says, and then her gaze drops. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “Like I said before, you’ve got a whole life outside of this and I understand that. I mean, it doesn’t make me miss you any less, but I do understand.”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything. I step toward her and wrap my arms around her, giving her a hug. At first she doesn’t react, and it’s like I’m hugging a life-size doll. But then I feel her bring her hands up and wrap them around my arm, her head leaning against my chest. One of my hands moves up and I run it over her hair, stroking it.
“I’m sorry,” she says, but I shake my head, even though she can’t see it. “I’m such a terrible person.”
“Shh no, hey,” I tell her. “You’re not a terrible person. You’re an amazing person. You’re one of the most amazing people I know.”
I feel her own head shake against my chest.
“You don’t know,” she says, her voice sounding thicker now. “I’m … I’m doing bad things.”
“We all do bad things,” I say to her. “But that doesn’t mean that that’s what defines us. You’re a whole other person besides those bad things you do, just like I’m a whole person besides the bad things that I do. You can’t get caught up in it. You just have to let it go, and keep on moving forward.”
She sniffs, a wet sound, and pulls her head back to look up at me. I look down, our eyes meeting. She’s crying, and even now, the way the sunlight dances on the pearls of tears that line her eyelashes makes her look so beautiful.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I ask her. “Come back to my place?”
She sniffs again, and then she nods.
“Yeah,” she says. “I do.”
I lean down and give her a kiss—a long, slow kiss as I hear her sniffing wetly again. And then we break apart, each of us walking to our own bikes, Trista wiping away at her eyes. We get on and start them up, and then I flash Trista one more smile as I lead the way, hearing her follow behind me, driving down the road and away from the responsibilities of the life that we’ve both chosen.