Crimson Return

by Daelynn Quinn

  “Why are you leaving?” I ask. “We haven’t even finished the game yet.”

  Yoric averts his eyes and picks up his empty beer mug. “I’m tired. Plus I’ve got the early shift tomorrow.” Yoric is a barista in the coffee shop at the food court. It’s not a very notable position, but it suits him.

  “Have a good night,” says Marcus. “I’ll probably see you in the morning.”

  Yoric nods and smiles as he rambles off into the crowd.

  Nicron shakes his head, smiling. “You guys don’t really buy that, do you?”

  Marcus and I quickly glance at each other with creased brows and back at Nicron. “Why, what do you think is going on?” I ask curiously.

  Jansen cuts in, smiling, “Yoric couldn’t care less about work. Never has before. And you saw how he was tonight. No crazy remarks. No outbursts. He didn’t even stay to finish the game and we were winning! There’s a special lady on his mind.”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “I don’t know, but whoever it is, she’s definitely got a hold on his heart, or his handle,” Jansen says smugly and glances over at Nicron. I blush as laughter pours out of me. My grin instantly disappears when I discover the dark figure approaching us.

  “I see you’re out a player,” he says. “Mind if I join you guys?” Has he been watching us this entire time, waiting for an opportunity? It’s kind of weird seeing Glenn wearing normal clothes: a pair of jeans and a grey tee shirt. He’s been forever etched in my memory wearing that hideous blue jumpsuit of the Enforcers.

  Jansen jumps up and holds his hand out to Glenn in a polite gesture. “Sure, man. I’m Jansen. We’ll start a new round. Why don’t you double up with Nicron and I’ll take score.” Obviously Jansen is totally oblivious to the animosity between Marcus and Glenn. But Nicron is not. His eyes narrow and he shakes his head at Jansen.

  As Glenn shakes Jansen’s hand, I turn to Marcus, who is clenching his jaw with such force I swear I could hear his teeth grinding. I place my hand on his and whisper, “Let’s go.” He nods and we both get up to leave.

  “We’re gonna get out of here,” I say to Jansen and Nicron, trying to ignore Glenn. Marcus storms past Glenn, not even acknowledging his presence. I have to admit I’m impressed. After what Glenn did to him in that torture chamber at Crimson, I almost expected him to attack Glenn with the magnitude of a nuclear missile. And I can’t believe Glenn actually had the nerve to approach us while we’re together.

  “You too?” Jansen asks, confounded.

  “Yeah, we don’t want to keep Timber too late. I’ll see you later, Jansen.” He frowns.

  As I try to pass Glenn, ignoring him, he reaches out and grasps my wrist, stopping me from proceeding. I look up and his single eye gazes deeply into my eyes, but he does not say a word. I can feel my pulse throbbing against the warmth of his hand. I wish I had moved faster so he wouldn’t have had a chance to stop me. My heart trembles momentarily. The look in his eye is different. It reminds me of the way he used to look at me in the beginning of our relationship. When I try to swallow I can’t; my throat is paralyzed. I can’t deny the connection that still exists between us, but I can’t allow myself to acknowledge it either.

  I thrust my arm away and maneuver my way through the crowd to join Marcus. He is already waiting by the elevator.

  “What took you so long?” he asks, flatly.

  “Well, I couldn’t just leave Jansen and Nicron there without an explanation,” I say.

  “Nicron doesn’t need an explanation.” Marcus presses the button for the elevator repeatedly and stares up into the glass.

  “Well, it looked to me like Jansen did. And I’m not going to be rude and just take off.”

  Marcus takes a deep breath and flexes his fists. He’s really struggling to hold it together. Had I not been there tonight, I’m sure Marcus would have attacked Glenn without hesitation.

  We travel back to our apartment in silence. Walking down the corridor to our room, I take his hand in mine. It must strike a chord in him because he stops just outside our door and turns to me.

  “I’m sorry for the way I acted,” he says. His hardened face has softened significantly.

  “It’s okay, Marcus. I know the way you feel about Glenn. I don’t blame you. In fact I’m proud of you for holding yourself together. I know that couldn’t have been easy.”

  “I trust you, Pollen. I know I don’t act like it sometimes. I can’t help but be jealous after what Siera did to me.” Siera was Marcus’s ex-wife who left him when they discovered he couldn’t have children. After she broke his heart, he had a difficult time trusting any woman in a relationship. Until I came along, that is.

  “I’ll never do that to you, Marcus,” I say. “I’ll never leave you.” The tension behind his eyes fades. I only wish I could convince myself of my own words the way I’ve convinced him. The feelings that came back to me tonight when Glenn touched me frighten me. Glenn is my past. My history. I shouldn’t feel anything for him.

  Our embrace is interrupted when we hear cries echoing from our apartment. Marcus storms in to see what is going on. There on the grey couch are Timber and Yoric, half-naked and tangled in each other’s limbs. I have to stifle a laugh at the unexpected discovery. I knew Timber liked Yoric, but I had no idea anything was actually going on. Huh. Jansen was right about him all along. I just hadn’t expected the woman on his mind to be Timber.

  “What the hell?” Yoric cries out. “I thought you were still playing.” Timber blushes as she reaches for her white peasant blouse, which is draped over a plant on the other side of the couch, and holds it over her chest in a feeble attempt to cover up.

  “I got a, uh, cramp in my wrist,” I say, caressing the spot where Glenn grabbed me, “so we decided we’d had enough.”

  After the serious nature of the last twenty minutes, I’m surprised to see Marcus uplifted. He snickers and teases Yoric, who is looking around the room for his own shirt.

  “We’re going to bed,” Marcus says. “You two get dressed and find your way to your own beds.”

  * * *

  I wake up to find empty sheets next to me. Marcus must have left early for work today. Evie and I don’t need to be at class for another hour, so I lie in bed staring up at the revolving ceiling fan and try to figure out what I’m going to say to Glenn, since it’s inevitable that I will see him again.

  A rapping at the door startles me. Who could be here now? Probably Timber coming by to apologize for last night. She’s the type who would do that. I really don’t feel like getting up now. Perhaps if I ignore it she’ll go away. She doesn’t really need to apologize anyway. I probably would have done the same had it been Marcus and me.

  The knocking continues, so I get up and approach the door. When I reach my hand to the doorknob, I realize that I’m way underdressed for answering the door. But if it’s only Timber it’s no big deal. And really, who else could it be this early?

  Just my crummy luck. How did I not see this coming?

  Chapter 5

  I slide my scantily clothed body behind the door to hide from Glenn’s wandering eyes. Or eye. It’s really weird and disconcerting, seeing only one eye when I’m used to seeing two.

  Awareness that I am still wearing my dainty rose nightgown trimmed with lace causes goosebumps to form on my flesh. I never used to wear these kinds of things before—I’m a tee shirt and sweats kind of gal—but Marcus likes feminine lingerie so I wear them for him. They are so skimpy, sometimes I let Evie wear them as dresses when she plays dress up.

  “What are you doing here, Glenn?” I whisper, hoping that the knocking did not awaken Evie.

  “Pollen, I really need to speak with you. I can’t wait any longer,” he says as he starts to walk forward. I stretch my arm out to stop him.

  “How did you know where I live?”

  “I followed you guys home last night. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want you to keep evading me every time you see me,” he says.

  I try to shut th
e door before he gets any further, but he raises his arm to hold it steady and wedges his shoulder in the opening.

  “Marcus isn’t here,” I whisper. “What if someone sees you?” My mind drifts back to the old days, when it was Glenn’s jealousy I worried about. He of all people should understand the implications of the situation.

  He ignores my question and says, “If Marcus isn’t here, that’s probably best. It’s you I want to talk to, not him.” Despite the firm obstruction his body poses, I continue to push the door against him, but without much avail.

  “Pollen, this isn’t about us,” he assures. I study his face but Glenn is hard to read, especially with that patch masking his expression. I don’t know if I can trust him yet, but I find my determination to stay away from him faltering. He won’t give up until we get this over with.

  I loosen my grip on the door and allow him to come in. The living room is brimming with darkness in the early hours of dawn since the sun hasn’t fully risen yet. I grope the wall, searching for the light switch and flip it on.

  “You look good,” Glenn says, eying my nightgown. My arms fumble clumsily over my gown as I feebly attempt to cover myself. I recall leaving my robe hanging in the bathroom so I retrieve it and hastily wrap it around myself. I could think of nothing worse than Marcus walking in and seeing Glenn here with me in my lingerie.

  “What do you want, Glenn?” I ask tersely. He peers around the room taking in his surroundings and helps himself to a seat on my couch. My feet remain planted on the floor where I stand and I cross my arms shrewdly.

  “I came to apologize,” he says. I grunt dubiously. This surprises me, considering Glenn has never apologized for a thing in his life. “No, really. What I did to you and Evie . . . and Marcus; it’s unforgivable. I want you to know I’ve changed. I really have. Okay, I understand you may not trust me now. But I’ll prove it to you. I’m not here to hurt you, Polly.”

  “You expect me to believe that? After what you did to Marcus? I’ve seen the scars, Glenn.” I shake my head.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that. Even more, I’m sorry for what I did. He wasn’t the only innocent I tortured,” his eye gazes away in a blank stare, like he’s recalling some horrifying memory. “But I admit, I was much harsher on him than the others because . . . he took you away from me.”

  “He didn’t take anything from you. You left me. You pushed me out the door and turned your back on me.”

  “You’re right, Polly. I was callow and stupid.”

  Well, at least he admits that.

  “You say you’re sorry. And I want to believe you. But how can you expect me to after everything you’ve done?” I squint at Glenn.

  “It’ll take time, I guess. I did open that door for you. Doesn’t that count for something?” I should have known he’d bring that up. He’s right, though. He did put himself at risk to help us. But is that enough to negate everything else he did?

  My eyes keep drawing to his eye patch as if it were magnetized. “What’s up with the patch?” I ask.

  “You want to see?” he asks. I hesitate. Do I really want to see what’s behind there? I’d managed to convince myself that he’s simply covering up the mark of the Trinity—the eye tattoo shaped like a triangle with a dot in the center. I’d never really considered the alternative.

  Glenn removes the patch to reveal an empty eye socket. I gasp at the void but sit down next to him to get a better look. This skin of his eyelid droops into an empty pink cavity where his eyeball used to be—the eye that once bore the mark of the Trinity that all Enforcers are branded with.

  “They did this to you,” I start, but my voice fades as I’m at a loss for words.

  “Because I helped you escape,” he finishes. My heart sags in sorrow. I admit I wanted Glenn to be punished for the pain he inflicted on Marcus. But I hoped he would get a lashing or beating, or something else. I didn’t expect him to lose his eye. But I guess that makes sense. If he is no longer an Enforcer he can no longer bear the mark. And how else would they remove it?

  “And also because I shot three of our own,” Glenn continues. He replaces the patch. “Now do you see that I am on your side?”

  “Yes,” I utter, lowering my head in shame. Guilt washes over me as I remember the good times Glenn and I shared, before Crimson or the Trinity came into our lives. The late night movies, the camping trips, sleeping together under the stars. Glenn lifts my chin up with his fingertips. “Don’t blame yourself, Polly. I know that’s what you do. It’s not your fault. And trust me; it could have been much worse.”

  My eyes widen, “What do you mean?”

  “They intended to do much more. They were going to cut off a finger for each of the Enforcers I shot. And I was scheduled to be tagged and put in the hole for a few months. After they gouged my eye out, I had a rare opportunity to escape, so I took it.”

  “And you came here,” I finish. “What happened, after you were released from the clinic? Did they interrogate you?”

  “They took me to a room and questioned me, yes. I was there for hours while they drilled me, probably waiting for me to screw up. They only let me out after I gave them some valuable intel.”

  “Like what?” I asked, leaning forward, my eyes imploring him. Glenn looks away, as if he’s searching his mind. I know that look. He’s trying to decide whether or not to tell me. He always used to do that before, when he thought I was too young or naïve to understand something.

  His lips press into a hard line. “I’m really not supposed to say,” Glenn says.

  “Right,” I mutter, disappointed. I should have known he wouldn’t be forthright with me. He has always carried the notion that I can’t handle anything serious.

  “No, really, Pollen. They don’t want any of this getting around the complex right now. Look, I know you’re not a gossip, but I’m really trying to do the right thing here, okay?” It makes sense, I guess, even if I am a little offended that he won’t tell me. I nod, accepting his explanation and glance over at the clock.

  “Oh my god!” I exclaim. It’s seven forty-two. I’ve got to get dressed and wake Evie for school. Lana would murder me for being late if she could get away with it. But since she can’t, she’ll probably have me scrubbing toilets, which is only one notch above murder in my book.

  “Is everything okay?” Glenn genuinely looks concerned.

  “We’re going to be late for school. Could you go wake Evie for me?” I ask, pointing to her closed door.

  “No problem,” he says, approaching the door.

  I rush into my bedroom and close the door behind me. I quickly brush my teeth and splash some icy cold water over my face. I can’t believe I lost track of time. Lana is going to enjoy chiding me for my tardiness.

  As I slide into my clothes, I hear some shouting coming from the living room. I button my pants hurriedly and grab my shoes when I hear a crash. My primary concern is Evie. Oh god, I hope I’m not wrong about Glenn.

  I dart through the door. There, in the living room, is Marcus, standing over a shattered lamp, his hand clasped firmly around Glenn’s throat.

  Chapter 6

  “Stop it!” I shriek as I scramble toward Marcus. His enraged eyes rise up to meet mine, but he keeps his fingers clamped around Glenn’s neck. Evie stands in the doorway, cradling her baby doll. She looks like a frightened mouse that has backed itself into a corner with no way out.

  Marcus draws back his left arm, which only means one thing. I can’t let him hit Glenn. Especially not his right eye—or empty socket. I feel bad enough that he’s lost his eye, even if it is his own fault. I charge forward, straining to pull Marcus’s arm down.

  “Please, Marcus! Don’t!” I plead. At first Marcus struggles against me, his intent to make Glenn pay stronger than his own self-control. “He’s not one of them anymore.”

  Finally, with conflicting emotion, Marcus loosens his grip and Glenn drops to his knees with a thump. He rubs his neck but that does little to remove the inflamed h
and imprints Marcus left there.

  Marcus turns and glares at me, “What the hell is he doing here?” His piercing sapphire eyes are usually a source of comfort for me, but not now. Now the color has drained from them, leaving them icy, and they seem to carve into my heart, leaving an empty hole where that sense of security used to be.

  “He came to the door this morning. He just wanted to apologize. Then I realized I was running late, so I asked him to wake Evie. That’s all,” I explain.

  “And you let him in?” he asks incredulously.

  Glenn rises to his feet, still massaging his neck. “Don’t be angry with Pollen,” he says.

  “Don’t talk!” Marcus snaps, never taking his eyes off me.

  “Marcus.” I take his hands in mine. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled when he came here. I can only imagine how you must feel. Please, just let him explain.”

  Marcus grits his teeth and lowers his eyebrows, sending a shiver down my spine. But he turns and looks at Glenn in silence, giving him an opportunity to talk.

  “Look, I’m sorry this happened this way,” says Glenn. “I’m not here to come between you two. I know that what happened between Pollen and me is over. I accept that. I just needed to apologize. And I wanted to do it with each of you separately, because I wronged you both in different ways. Marcus, I know nothing I can say that will take back the pain I inflicted on you, but I really am sorry. I hope that one day you could forgive me, and we could be friends.”

  Glenn really sounds sincere—to me anyway. I’m not sure Marcus is buying it though. We stand in silence with only the hushed murmurs of our breathing adding to the tension.

  “If you’re done, get out,” Marcus declares in such a low tone I’d almost think he was possessed by a demon. Glenn nods and leaves, closing the door behind him. I’m so glad I got dressed when I did—if Marcus had come in about five minutes earlier, this would not have ended so conciliatingly.