by M. N. Forgy
“You working girls?”
Jayden snorts, and I roll my eyes.
“No,” I sneer, turning to leave.
“Right.” He smiles wide. “Here’s the key, baby.” His tone deep and rough, he hands Jayden a key.
“Thanks,” Jayden snatches the key from his grip and follows me outside. “What a fucking creep,” she hisses, handing me the key.
Room 23 is up the stairs. As Jayden and I make our way up, I find them unsteady and creaking with every step. Once inside the room, it smells of cigarette smoke and stale fast food. There’s a small TV sitting on an old dresser that looks to have grime and food all over it, and one queen-size bed in front of it. Whoever stayed here last didn’t take the trash out obviously, and the bed is unmade and looks disgusting.
“I’m not sleeping on that.” Jayden points to the bed, a red condom sticking to the sheets.
“Oh, gross.” I scrunch my face. “Let’s get bleach and trash bags. If we’re going to stay here for a few days, we need to disinfect this room.”
“I think we’d do better if we got a match and gasoline.” Jayden coughs, waving her hand in front of her face to try and escape the rancid smell of the place.
I laugh and grab her arm. “Come on, we got this.”
Three hours later, Jayden and I fall onto a perfectly made bed with clean sheets, the smell of Lysol and bleach strong yet inviting.
“Mick has a much better work ethic,” I state, making Jayden laugh.
“For sure. This guy is a pig,” she adds.
“If he’s a hustler, I hope the rooms he pimps his girls out of are in better condition,” I respond. She turns over on her side, propping her head up with her hand. A question’s clearly on the tip of her tongue.
“What?” I ask, turning my head to look at her glowing face.
“Why’d you shoot him?”
The mention of Landon makes my chest feel like it was just impaled. I wonder if Landon is alive. Is he at the hospital? In a morgue? Looking for me?
I take a deep breath and fiddle with fingers.
“He killed my mother,” I whisper, not sure if she even heard me. Just hearing the words myself they sound unnatural.
“What?” she gasps. I prop my head on my hand to get a better look at her.
“My mother worked at the Blackwell Estate.” I sigh, frustrated that I don’t know anything more. “I don’t know. All I know is for some reason, Landon killed her.” I furrow my brows and shake my head. “There’s so much missing from the puzzle. I’m so confused. I mean, why did he kill her?” I’m just thinking aloud at this point. “I was there that day she was killed, but I just can’t make out what happened,” I mutter, running my hands through my sweaty hair.
“You really can’t remember?” Jayden rubs my arm in comfort.
I shake my head and groan in irritation.
“I mean, I remember some, most of it just coming back to me in the last few hours, actually. I remember I was taken to a hospital for sick people, where they think you’re crazy. They wanted me to tell them everything about my mom, because they had nothing. But all I wanted to do was forget. I was in pain. All I wanted to do was look for an escape. Forgetting it did that.” I peer up at Jayden, my eyes filling with tears. “Looks like I got my wish, though, ’cause I can’t remember a damn thing. I have no idea why Landon would kill her.”
“You love him?” she questions, turning on her back and looking up at the nicotine-stained ceiling.
“I’m not sure. Well, I mean my mother loved me. I know she did because I can feel it. But it was so long ago, and I’ve forced myself not to remember so much. I’m not sure if I remember how to love.”
“Those who fall at their weakest cannot be judged. It’s what they do to bring themselves back up that says who they are. I know you’ll get through this, because you’re the strongest person I know.”
I look down at her, surprised with how real she just got. My chest warms that she thinks so highly of me. Jayden yawns and snuggles closer to me, so I wrap my arms around her and snuggle right back.
“I missed you,” she whispers.
I look over at the window, the sun just starting to set. I’m exhausted, and my stomach is in knots and has me feeling queasy.
“I missed you, too,” I mutter, closing me eyes.
***
Looking at the soap scum claiming the tiles in the shower, I think of Landon. The way he made love to my body just days before. The words he spoke to me, sounding like he meant them. The ache in my chest worsens, making my lips tremble. I miss him. His rude mouth, and his hot and cold behavior. I long for it all. When I said I felt alone before, when I said I had hit rock-bottom before, it was a lie, because the way I feel right now is so much worse. Water cascades down my body as I shake with emotion.
“I- I killed him,” I cry quietly. I hurt, but I’m not sure where the source of pain is coming from. All I feel is this dull ache spreading through my body as I think about what I’ve done.
My legs give out and I fall into the tub, my knees aching as they slam into the ceramic. I know I need to get back up and figure my shit out, decide my next move, but I just don’t have it in me. All I want to do is just cry, sleep, and cry some more.
I dry off and put on the clothes I wore yesterday. They don’t smell too bad; I’ve had worse. I stop where I’m standing when I hear voices in the other room. My heart thuds against my chest in panic. Scared that Jayden is out there by herself, I open the door, still towel-drying my hair.
I step around the corner, heading into the main room when I freeze, my body reacting in pure panic. My hand drops the towel, my breathing comes in short spurts, and my body trembles.
“Landon,” I croak.
“Charlie,” he grits, his tone hard. I swallow, dumbfounded. He’s alive! I didn’t kill him! My heart thuds with joy, but my body pulsates with terror. Is he going to kill me? I glance to the bathroom door and back to Landon. It’s my only escape, locking myself in the bathroom while Jayden runs for help. He cocks his head to the side, like he knows I’m up to no good. Without a second thought, I bolt toward the bathroom door and shut it. Just as my fingers go to push the button on the knob to lock it, the door thrusts open with so much power it nearly throws me into the tub.
“You can’t run from me, Charlie,” Landon barks, slamming the door behind him. His size takes up every free inch the small bathroom holds. He looks good, like damn good. He has on a black dress shirt and jeans that hang deliciously low. I’ve never seen him in jeans before, come to think of it. I shake my head and look the other way.
“You can’t hide, either,” he growls eerily.
“What are you going to do?” I ask softly, feeling behind me for something to sit on.
“What should I do, Charlie? You fucking shot me.”
I sit on the rim of the tub and look at his hard, forest eyes.
“You killed my mother,” I fire back in response. I watch Landon’s Adam’s apple bob as a look of hurt crosses his face. His eyes squint at the corners as his forehead wrinkles, sorrow taking over his face. How is he upset about killing my mother?
Landon runs his hands over his face, masking his emotions.
“We don’t have time for this right now. We have to go.” Landon holds his hand out, waiting for me to take his.
I scowl, looking at his hand. The hand that spilled my mother’s blood.
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I snarl. Landon blows out an irritated breath and looks at the ceiling like he’s praying for control.
“If you don’t come with me right now, you’ll be killed.” I wince at his words, fear striking me in the chest. “I found you very easily. My father’s men will be here shortly. I’m sure of it,” Landon explains further.
“Your father?” I question. I’m confused; is he threatening me or his father?
“Not here. Not right now, Charlie. It’s not safe.” Landon grabs my hand without my permission, and I try to resist.
“Have I hurt you yet?” His breath brushes across my face. “If I was going to kill you, I would have done it already.”
I huff at his remark. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” I sneer.
“I don’t care if you feel better, Charlie. I really don’t. Not right now. Right now, I care if you live. I wouldn’t be out here risking my ass to save you if I wanted it any other way.”
I inhale a shaky breath, the severity of his tone telling me he’s telling me the truth. Or he’s a damn good liar.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, looking into his deep green eyes speckled with brown. My head screams not to give in, but what if he’s right? What if he’s not the one I should fear? Landon once told me my body would tell me when something is wrong way before I know. When I met Miller for the first time, my body all but held up little red flags that screamed he’s a bad guy. But when I’m with Landon, I don’t get that feeling at all. If anything, it seems like Landon was placed on this Earth merely to protect me.
“You promise you won’t hurt me?” I whisper, still looking into those intense eyes.
“If that’s what it takes, then yes, I promise.”
“And my mother?” I continue to bargain, wanting to know more about what happened to her.
“I’ll explain it all later, but if you don’t come with me right now, you won’t ever have the chance of knowing, Charlie.”
I close my eyes and nod. He grabs my hand and rushes me out of the bathroom. I pass Jayden sitting on the bed, chewing her nails anxiously.
“Jayden,” I cry out as we head for the door. I thought she’d run for help, but she’s just sitting there, dazed. Is she scared, or does she trust Landon?
“Wait,” I plead, trying to pull from Landon. He stops but doesn’t let go of me.
“Go, Charlie. Go with him. For some reason,”—she flicks her gaze to him, then back to me—“I believe him.” I nod, knowing what she means. With Landon’s intense stare and the tone of his voice, it’s hard not to believe him. At least I know I’m not doing this just because I may be falling for him. I use my other hand to pull her close, taking in her cocoa scent and programming it to memory in case we’re both wrong. In case Landon does indeed drag me back to the estate and… I can’t even finish that thought.
“Be safe,” I whisper in her ear.
“You, too,” she whispers back.
TWENTY-TWO
CHARLIE
I sit in Landon’s beautiful black car. The smell of leather from the seats is strong, and it curves to my body like they were especially made for me. We drive out of the city, leaving the lights of Vegas behind us. The sun sits high in the sky without a cloud in sight, making Landon turn the air conditioning on. The tension in the car is so palpable you could poke it with your finger. I want to turn and demand why he killed my mother, demand to know who he really is and what he’s hiding, but I’m simply scared of the truth. I don’t know who to trust, what to fear. I curl into myself and stare out the window, my back facing Landon.
I hear him shift, and the warmth of his hand suddenly envelops mine. I turn my head, looking at his palm grasping mine. It’s so big compared to my hand, so warm, and the gesture is tender. My hand tingles from his touch, the feeling shooting up my arm and to my chest.
“Everything is going to be okay, Charlie. I promise,” he mutters, squeezing my hand. Does he not have any resentment toward me after I shot him? I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing back the tears.
The car turns into a suburban area, and I sit up straight in the seat to look around. There are houses of every color and every size, spaced accordingly to give one another privacy. They seem fancy, with the palm trees and cars that look brand new sitting in some of the driveways. Landon turns the wheel and pulls into the driveway of one. Its roof is tiled in some cream color, and the frame is made up of some stucco tan hue. The lawn is made up of palm trees, rocks and bushes, matching a lot of the properties around Vegas. The garage door opens and Landon pulls his car into the space with ease, the sound of the motor vibrating off the walls once we are inside.
“You hungry?” Landon asks, turning the car off. I tilt my head slightly and look at him with an arched brow. Has he lost his mind? That’s what he says? That’s what he leads with to break the silence?
“No. I’m just tired,” I mumble, opening the car door. I hear Landon sigh as he steps out.
“Charlie, we really need to talk.” He looks at me with such pain it takes me aback. I cross my arms, rubbing my hands up and down my forearms, trying to soothe myself. All I wanted before was to be with Landon, have that normalcy. But now, knowing what I know… I’m not sure that’s what I want anymore.
I nod and shut the door. Talking is the first step in figuring out what the hell I want next, though.
Walking inside the house, it’s huge. The ceilings are high and the space is large, but it’s clean. There are no empty food boxes, or mail sitting on the counter.
“You live here?’ I question, surveying the place.
“Sometimes. Not often, though,” Landon admits, tossing the keys on the counter.
Walking into the kitchen, there is a white tiled island with matching counters behind it, stainless steel appliances of the best quality placed accordingly. I explore the space, venturing into the living area. A massive U-shaped couch made up of white cushions occupies the space, a large TV placed on the wall in front of it and a fireplace beneath that.
To the left of the living room is nothing but windows and a sliding glass door. Looking through, I see little twinkling lights from the city as the sky starts to cloud over. My eyes trail to the right of the room and find wooden stairs. I make my way up them, Landon following behind me.
I pass more windows and closed doors, my eyes set on the one door that’s open at the end of the hall. Entering, I find a large bed with white sheets, and a large floor-to-ceiling window in front of it overlooking the city of Vegas from afar. It’s like this house is tucked out of the eye of Vegas, just watching from its own safety. There are shelves lined with books, and of course a TV directly across from the bed.
I sit on the bed, the blanket so cushioned I sink. I vaguely smell Landon’s freshness and spice waft around me from the fabric.
He’s staring at me, the intensity making me shift uncomfortably. I slowly trail my tongue along my bottom lip and risk looking at him. He’s squatting, his elbows resting on his jean-clad thighs. His face is unreadable as he pins me where I sit.
“What?” I whisper.
“Charlie, I don’t even know where to start.” He looks down and blows out a tired breath. I shrug and purse my lips.
“You can start with why you killed my mother,” I suggest, my tone coming off snappier than I intended. Landon’s brows furrow, his jaw ticking as he takes in what I said.
“Your mother, Maria, was a turning point in my life,” he starts, his eyes leveling with mine. “Growing up, I envied my father. He had power, control, money, and women at his feet. He was like a king. There was nothing he couldn’t have and not a damn thing he couldn’t talk himself out of.” Landon’s face turns hard as he points to his chest. “I wanted that. I wanted to be on top. I wanted to be the king of the estate.”
He shakes his head and looks at the wall. “Roman and I fought about who it would be. Who father would chose to reign over the estate. Every Blackwell gets the throne until one of his heirs proves to be of quality. Hell, Roman and I couldn’t piss without making it a competition.” He chuckles and looks at me, but I don’t laugh.
“What does this have to do with my mother?” I ask, irritated, my fingers clawing at the sheets in anger.
“Your mother was one of our escorts, Charlie. One of the best, actually. She was very quiet, didn’t give much detail about her life, and my father had his sights on her. My
father cheated on my mother regularly, but it didn’t seem to bother her so it didn’t bother me. I think she had her own partaking in cheating, but I’m not sure.”
I nod, not knowing what else to do. I just want him to keep talking, to tell me more about my mother.
He continues. “One day, my father brought me to the side, loaded a gun and slid it across his desk toward me. He said, ‘Landon, today is the day you prove that you’re the worthy son. The next in line to become king of the estate.’ I didn’t know what he was talking about. I was only sixteen. Holding a gun at that age, and given my time to shine, I was up for anything.”
He stands and runs his hand over his head, giving it that messy look. “He took me to your mother’s apartment, not far from where you live now.” Landon shoots me a quick glance before he stares out the window, placing his hands in his jeans pockets. “When we entered, Maria was frantic, sweating even. But man, she was truly beautiful.” He whips his head around and smirks at me, like he is staring at my mother again. I close my eyes, tears threatening to spill as he continues.
“She screamed for us to leave, that she wasn’t returning to the estate. My father roared that she was his indefinitely since she was pregnant with his child. She got this evil look across her face and said she had an abortion.” Landon steps over to me and squats in front of me again, my hands digging into the sheets the more he tells me what happened that day. A piece of me still doesn’t want to know.
“I’ve never seen my father so angry. He was blistering red, his body shaking with rage. He lashed out at her, told her an Evans would never roam this Earth again. That she killed his seed, and he’d see to it that her DNA never disgraced this Earth with its presence, starting with her. That’s when something caught the corner of my eye.” He grabs my clawing hand from the sheet and squeezes it. My heart races and sweat is forming on my forehead. It’s like watching a movie, the climax happening right before you that has you by the seat of your pants. You know it’s going to end badly, but yet you sit there watching with a racing heart.
“I saw you hiding under the table, looking right at your mother, fear written across your face like you’d just realized the devil was real. I saw my father reach behind him, going for his gun while walking toward Maria. If he made it just one step more, he would have seen you, Charlie, and not only killed your mother, but I know he would have killed you, too. So I did what I thought was right at the age of sixteen. I pulled my gun out, stepped in front of the table you were hiding under, blocking you from my father’s view, and…” He pauses, squeezing my hand harder. “I shot your mother.”