by Eve Bradley
There are a few hushed moments as I watch the man’s body settle and blood pool around his head. Rhett appears solemn, and shuts his eyes briefly before stuffing the gun into the back of jeans. He hurries to gather me in his arms and holds me for a second.
“Are you hurt?” he asks me, and I shake my head, nearly numb from shock.
“Oh my god,” I say, repeating it over and over. “We almost died.”
“Yeah, but we didn’t,” he grumbles, releasing me. “We need to get Alexi and get out of here immediately.”
Rhett opens his phone and sends out a quick text.
“Do you think he was with the Young Brothers?” I say, heart pounding in my chest like a beast I can’t control. Because if he was, which is the most likely thing, that means they know we set them up. It means every one of us is in danger, and that they have the upper hand because they know where we are.
Rhett’s sharp mouth moves into a flat line, and he inclines his head, giving me my answer. He walks ahead of me, hurrying through the trailhead.
We run down the mile-long trail, down towards the resort. Will Alexi be ok? Have they been scoping out where we stayed last night and everything? Rhett is silent as we move through the trees, loping down the hills towards the cabins. Aside from the death I’d just witnessed, the resort is eerily calm. Couples and families walk together through the sections, I hear people laughing from the poolside, and others snuggle as they come out from the spa, all oiled and steamy from massages. I look around at every edge, every corner, every shadow, to try to locate any of James’ men. But I see nothing, and neither does Rhett because we swiftly head straight back to the cliffside cabin we stayed in the night prior.
“Don’t say a word when we come in. Let me sweep the area,” Rhett whispers, and I hide behind the corner of the entryway as he slowly lets the door creak open. He enters and I slowly peer around the corner and watch as he enters, gun raised, pointed at all potential attackers. He swivels around in the entry, straining his neck to see into the kitchen and then the bedroom.
I hold my breath. This is a nightmare. As long as we can get away, things will be fine, right? I try to tell myself this because every instinct inside me is telling me to run. The homeless girl mentality thickens up so that it’s almost the only thing I can see. Neon letters flashing in my brain: Run you stupid bitch. The only thing stopping me is them. I can’t leave Rhett or Alexi, as much as my survivalist self wants to. Even now, I can’t combat my thoughts. Go into hiding. This is a distraction, they won’t focus on you if they’re dealing with the men. Go home. Hide in a different state. Start over. They don’t love you. This is just sex. Sex means nothing. You’re the only one who can look out for you. But I stay, firmly rooted to my place on the wooden plank walkway. Waiting.
Rhett walks toward the bedroom, and I step forward. For a second, things seem fine, but then a black figure knocks him over so quickly everything’s a blur. I hear the gun clatter on the floor, there is a struggle, and then silence.
“Boo,” a deadly whisper penetrates my ear. I know that voice. It’s Daniel. But, before I can scream, everything goes black, and I lose myself as I spiral into an unconscious state that I cannot fight, nor resist.
Thirteen
The Best Lies I Can Tell
I don’t know when I come back to myself, but it’s a painful and sluggish process that has me groaning. For a moment, I can imagine I’m still in bed, that I’ve just been fucked too hard, and that I’m exhausted from a poor night’s sleep. But reality is so much darker than I want to believe, and although I’ve escaped the demons in humanity before, I have a feeling this is one of those times where they are inescapable. Evil has me in its talons.
They must have gotten us here by drugging us, because why else would I have passed out? I blink, and the darkness doesn’t go away; I think I have a bag over my head. I can hardly hear anything, but as my senses return to me, I catch monotone voices in a nearby room. I can’t see anything through the linen covering my face, but as I look down, I notice I can see out of the edge of the sack. I see Alexi’s feet, clad in his grey running shoes, and then I shift to the left and see Rhett’s dark jeans and forest green Nikes. My hands are strung up above me, awkwardly tied together with what feels like rope that is burning my skin and cutting off circulation.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. This is bad; this is what happens right before you die or are tortured, both of which I do not want to experience.
I start to wriggle around, like a fish on a hook, trying to knock my rope into something, anything. Maybe if I can just get it to a sharp edge…
Suddenly, there are footsteps purposefully striding towards me. The blackness is yanked away from my head, and I blink against the dull lighting that comes from an old office lamp set on a rotting wooden desk in the corner of the room. The room itself has cement floors and fits with what I imagine to be an unfinished or abandoned building. I take in the surroundings and then piece by piece the figures come into focus. James and Daniel are standing right in front of me, sick twisted grins of their faces, their scars even more deformed than when I last saw them. Four other men stand around watching the windows, doors, and eye the three of us with visceral disgust.
Crusted blood has formed on Alexi and Rhett’s faces. Alexi’s eyelids are swollen, blood smeared across his handsome face, and Rhett’s jaw and nose are bruised black and blue. Both of them are still out cold. Anger pulses in the pit of my gut, and I don’t know how I can ever make up for this. I shouldn’t have gotten involved. This is my fault. We’re all going to die because of me.
“Hello pretty Penny,” James’ slithering voice reaches me, and I almost vomit all over the floor.
“Fuck you,” I spit, willing him to die on the spot.
“We’re only going to ask you once. Where’s our money?” Daniel asks, everything about him utterly glacial.
I’m shaking now because I see the glint of guns at each of their hips. And I cannot…I can’t die. I still have too much to do. I have to see my mom and Emily again, and Shawn, Alexi, and Rhett…they’re special. I can’t explain it, and although I feel so much guilt for wanting them, this is the first time in my life that I haven’t felt like I’m a dead woman walking. I can’t just lose this. Not when we’ve just started.
“Now, now, Daniel. Calm down. Let the girl have a second. I know this is really, truly, an unfortunate situation. If we’d met under any other circumstances, things might have been different, wouldn’t they?” James simpers and he comes towards me and pets a thick greasy hand down my face and neck.
“I don’t know. That depends on if you’re going to kill us or not,” I yank my face away from him, and he chuckles heartily.
“You’ve been such a bad girl, though, Penny!” James chuckles, mostly to himself. “I’m actually very curious how you did it.”
How I did it? I pause, utterly confused. What exactly does he think that I did? Isn’t he the one that thinks I’m a dumb blonde bimbo? Or maybe he’s asking about how I made myself look dead and got away with it? I’m honestly at a loss, so I decide to stay silent. If there were ever a time to choose words carefully, right now would be it.
“You don’t have to be shy,” James tilts his head and reaches out to fondle my breast. The way his fingers twist over my nipple and cup my flesh makes my insides crawl. I try to get away from him, but I can only move so far.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap, and he retracts his hand and sighs.
“I had hoped…with your expertise, that you would join me, Penny. I think you’ll soon find out that men like them…they can only get so far in life before a bigger, nastier version comes along,” he says, his soulless black eyes catching me in a suffocating grip that I cannot look away from.
My expertise? I swallow, trying to feign confidence. Trying, more than anything, to play into whatever role they’re giving me. Is it better for him to think I’m this person he’s talking about than for me just to flounder my way through? If anything,
I feel like they’re giving me a way to steer the conversation in my direction, and I guess I can work with that. I have no other choice.
“Why should I help you?” I say.
“Well first, you can give me back the money you stole. Second, you can tell me how you conned Shawn Van Doren into acting as your pawn. You don’t need any other reason to help me, other than knowing that this could be your last few hours here on earth,” he says, pacing the floor.
Me? Shawn as my pawn? I almost, almost laugh out loud. But I hide this immediate reaction because I know that he is serious; and serious is a deadly place to be. But how can I move forward in this place? No matter what I do, even if it’s lies, they’ll see through it. I’m unable to know exactly what they think I’ve done, and because of this, I have no way to forge my way out.
“I’ll remind you that I can wake up your boy toys, and we can have some fun with them if you don’t talk,” James says encouragingly.
“If Shawn Van Doren is my pawn, then where is he right now?” I ask him. I truly do wish he would barge in and save us, but at this point, the future looks dismally unavoidable.
“He’s right where you want him to be, is my guess,” Daniel mutters and flicks a cigarette butt onto the ground.
“Okay, let’s just think about this for a second,” I say, trying to gather myself professionally. “If I were to return your funds to you, would you let them go? Are you going to let me go? Let’s be honest here. There’s nothing I can do to stop you from killing us. So why wait? Is it because you want your money back that bad? Why not just off me and call it a day?”
James chuckles and rolls his eyes.
“Because this guy right here,” he slaps Alexi’s face a couple times. “Had me fooled that he was an assassin, and this one,” he slaps Rhett’s face on both sides, “I trusted him like one of my own. You think I’m just going to kill you without knowing how you did it? You got a group of men to do your bidding, pretend that you were the innocent one in the entire scheme, made us think that they’d killed you, and then thought you’d walk away with all the money?”
I don’t know what to say. My mind is racing, frantic for an idea. But then I have it. It might be crazy, and it may not work, but I have nothing else.
“Why would I choose to con you?” I say, trying to sound demeaning. “Unless…one of your own men reached out to me for help and offered me a cut of the money.”
James’ brows lower, and he glances around as if suddenly thinking every one of his men are suspects. What an idiot.
“Daniel, do you want to tell him why you did it?” I say, trying to keep my tone soft.
“You fucking…!” Daniel raises his gun and points it at my forehead, and I shiver, trying to find one fraction of space in my mind where this is not happening. I let out a shudder. Remember Shawn. He told me to trust him until he gives me a reason not to, and right now I really need to trust that something, anything, is going to change our fate.
“Don’t fucking listen to her,” Daniel seethes. “You read the cunts file. She’s a liar.”
James reaches out and grabs the gun from Daniel in a smooth motion.
“You don’t want to do that. You know you don’t,” James says, and then stands at ease. “Why don’t you wake up the boys and hear what they have to say? Seems like they’ve had enough of a nap.”
Daniel rolls his eyes and then goes to grab a bucket of water in the corner. He pours ice-cold water over both of their heads, and both men gasp, waking to the nightmare of a scene in front of them. I want to cry, because no matter what I do or say, I feel like there’s no way out. I shouldn’t have ever gone home with Shawn. I should have kept walking and ignored his angel eyes. I shouldn’t have even met Alexi or Rhett. I knew that things in life, things like fairytale happiness and passionate sex weren’t real. Maybe I’d dreamed all of those experiences too, and now all I need to do is wake up. Wake the fuck up. Please, Allie.
But this is no dream, and reality itself is the definition of hell.
“Rhett, nice to see you. But, then again, it’s not so nice…seeing as you betrayed us the entire time. How long have you been working with us…a year? Two?” James’ tone is lethal and composed.
“They don’t know anything, James. Sorry to disappoint you. Daniel and I are the ones with the answers. I wonder…how does it feel to have your own brother take you down?” I say, and in this moment, all eyes swivel to me, blinding me with undivided attention.
Daniel throttles the gun against my face and stars speckle my vision, my cheek and face pulsing with pain.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Alexi rages, straining against the ropes.
“Leave her alone. Fuck with us, not her,” Rhett snaps.
“How do you think I got away when your men caught me outside of the hotel? Who was there? Oh…that’s right…Daniel,” I say, trying to goad them into an argument.
There’s a bristle of tension in the air, and then James stares at his brother as if he doesn’t know him. It’s painfully silent, but the looks that all of the men exchange are nearly palpable, reminding me that it only takes one bullet for everything to be lost. All of the good things. Every moment of realized freedom and ease, thrown out the window as if none of it mattered.
But then, maybe my life never mattered. Maybe I just got too wrapped up in the feelings. Shawn makes me feel like a princess under his gaze. Alexi brings out passion and comfort. Rhett challenges and makes me think more deeply than I am used to. But each of them has given me something that I’ve never had, and that is a genuine connection. I’ve been alone so long that I’ve told myself it’s better this way. Loneliness is safe. But loneliness, now that I recognize it, is the pinnacle of human suffering. As we exist alone, we crumble into ourselves; living dead. Because although I don’t need someone to tell me I’m worthy, sometimes feeling devotion, freedom, vulnerability, and passion with another person can be a reminder that life isn’t pointless, and that I can, and should, remember that I am worthy. That maybe these things I’ve been telling myself aren’t true. Maybe life is worth living, and me, worth living it.
James nods his head in Rhett’s direction, and one of the guys comes forward and sends a jab rocketing into his gut.
“Stop!” I scream. “Stop!”
Rhett coughs and sags against his ropes.
The man continues, beating him, his stomach contracting in defensive reaction as the man’s fists beat into him.
“Please, stop!” I cry, tears forming in my eyes; tears burning with anger.
“Okay! Okay!” I shriek. “I’ll help you.”
James signals for the man to stop, and he steps away, leaving Rhett limp and sputtering, gasping for breath.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper, and through the haze of his pain he looks up at me and gives me the ghost of that signature lazy smile. I glance at Alexi and bite my lip. Just last night he was holding me in his arms, his cock deep inside me, penetrating not only my body, but my heart. Sadness quakes in my chest as James’ men come to untie me. My body flops downward, and I catch myself on all fours, my wrists crippled from the awkward placement.
“Don’t. Whatever you’re going to do, don’t do it,” Alexi tells me. But I have to ignore him.
“I’ll make you a deal,” I say, wrestling myself to a stand.
“Shut the fuck up,” Daniel says, but James raises a hand to signal his brother from speaking.
“You know your empire is fucked without this transfer. Why else would you have given the money to Mr. Van Doren so easily? You need a place out from under the government’s eyes, yes? You thought what you were getting was a cheaply bought account with no strings attached,” I stop, although James is watching me, intently curious. I don’t know what they think has happened. They assume that I’ve been in control of the situation the whole time, so I must be the one getting all the money. But how?
“I’ll get it back for you and place it in a true account that can’t be linked back to you. That’s wh
at you wanted in the first place, right? Then Daniel gets none of it, and he can’t ruin you like he wanted.”
James nods as if satisfied, and motions for me to follow him into the back room where they’d been talking before. I’m afraid to follow him into the small space, but as I go, I sentence myself to death. As long as I give Shawn enough time to show up, then this all will be worth it. Even if I do die in the process.
“Don’t take her back there. Hey. Penny don’t,” Alexi’s voice is furious at my back, but I have to ignore him. If anything, leading them away from Rhett and Alexi is what I should be doing.
“Daniel, you’re coming with us?” I ask as if chastising a small child. “It was enough you wanted to ruin your family business.”
James is silent and allows me to come through the doors. Daniel enters as well, and slams the door behind him, leaving me electrified, every nerve in my body on edge. Both men tower over me, James, with his plump hugeness and Daniel with his wiry-framed leer. With them looking at me now, I can’t help but think that this was a bad decision on my part. I have nothing to offer them, and they’ll see if they don’t already, that I’ve just been fucking with them.
Immediately Daniel’s fist comes hurtling towards my face. He punches me, and I collapse against the wall, my face on fire. I hear Alexi and Rhett cursing beyond the door. The tip of Daniel’s boot comes crashing into my gut, and I cough violently, nearly purging all over the floor.
“Penelope Windsor,” James grabs something off of the metal desk and crouches down low so that he can examine me. I groan and cough, unable to focus. But then he tosses something down in front of me. Papers and photos. It’s my face that comes into focus, only I have dark short hair, and streaks of black makeup in hard lines around my eyes. But how? I’m so shocked that I can’t say anything. My words are frozen in my throat. It can’t be real…can it? Next to my photo is some official government seal, and below that, there’s an explanation of what I’ve done. Arson, perjury, grand theft, petty theft, robbery, assault, murder. Under further inspection I find that the person inputting the information says that I’m a sociopathic liar. Also, surprisingly, my age is twenty-four. Not eighteen.