The Asset

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by Anna del Mar


  “No problem.” Charlie’s voice came muffled but clear. “I’ll come back in a few hours.”

  A few hours? My heart about gave out. I tried jumping to push out the lid, but it didn’t work. The sound of a chain rattling over metal chilled my blood.

  “Hear that?” A rattle of keys came from the outside. “These keys are going in my pocket.”

  The jackass had come prepared. I wanted to kick myself. Charlie had chosen his bait well, a defenseless animal calling for help, the one lure I couldn’t ignore.

  “You need to let me out before I start screaming.” I tried to sound reasonable. “If you let me go now, I won’t press charges against you.”

  “Scream all you want,” Charlie said. “I told Mario you went home for the night. Nobody is looking for you.”

  The bad news kept coming. Charlie was determined to get his revenge. The darkness compressed all around me. The raccoon whinnied.

  “Try not to be afraid,” I murmured.

  Memories of Red’s dark cellar began to trickle out, rivulets seeping through the cracks of the dam I’d built in my mind. Oh, Lord. I strained to contain the horrors and yet the memories dribbled out in fickle spurts—bloodied fingers, scraping against thick concrete walls, wails resonating in the darkness, and screams too, my past’s terrifying echoes.

  “Hola, querida.” Red’s voice whispered in my ear. “My naughty girl is back where she belongs.”

  “Go away,” I said aloud. “You’re not here.”

  “But I’m here, always here, always with you,” the silky voice said. “You can pretend all you want, but you belong to me.”

  No. He wasn’t here. I wasn’t his. I broke out into a cold sweat. Once the flashbacks started, they were hard to stop. I needed to get out of the dumpster and fast. Steady. Breathe. Cope. I tried not to think about Red or his cellar.

  “Charlie,” I called out. “What do you want from me?”

  “Payback’s a bitch,” Charlie said.

  “Fine,” I said. “You got me. You’re the man, Charlie. Now, please.” My voice cracked. “Let me out of here. Please?”

  “I like to hear you beg,” Charlie said. “You wanna get out?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then say the magic words.”

  “Please?”

  “Not that,” he said. “Beg me to fuck you, Lia. Tell me you want my cock in your cunt.”

  What a sick bastard. “That’s a lie and you know it.”

  “It’s what you have to say if you want out.” Charlie snickered. “I’ll make you a deal. You take off your clothes and get down on your knees, naked as God put you on this earth. Then you call out to me, nice and sweet, and beg me to fuck you.”

  A bastard like him would want to have the show on record. He’d film the whole thing on his cell so he could show it to his friends. He might even put it on the internet.

  “Come on,” Charlie said. “You do that and I’ll let your ass out.”

  He was enjoying this. The lust in his voice scared me as much as the darkness and the confinement. But I knew better. No deals with bullies and drunks. I piled a few bags of trash in the corner and tried climbing on top of them. The lid didn’t budge. The bags broke beneath my feet and trash spilled everywhere.

  “Showtime.” Charlie taunted me. “Tell me you want me to ride you on all fours, like those animals you like so much.”

  Helpless and trapped all over again. The walls closed in. The darkness and the smell conspired to make me sick. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was, stuck in the dumpster behind Mario’s or entombed in Red’s cellar for days at a time.

  Don’t freak out. Breathe and cope. I was about to lose it.

  I kicked the walls and banged my fists against the metal wall until my knuckles hurt. “Let. Me. Out!”

  “Querida, it’s for your own good.” Red’s rumbling bass echoed in my head. “Obedience is a hard lesson to learn. When I come back, you can beg me to forgive you.”

  Pepe’s yelps filled the darkness, the sound of unspeakable violence. Red’s fingers slid over my face, smearing something hot and wet on my cheeks.

  “You know what that is?” Red asked. “It’s Pepe’s blood, Lia. Poor puppy. You killed him with your carelessness. You should’ve never tried to run. Now poor Pepe’s gone and I have to punish you for your behavior.”

  I couldn’t breathe anymore. Cope, just try to cope. A sob escaped my lips. My knees failed. I dropped to the floor, folded my legs against my chest and leaned my forehead on my knees. The raccoon’s shrieks chiseled at my brain. I pressed my hands over my ears and dug my nails into my scalp. Pain. I needed the pain to stay sane. It was the only way to remind myself that I wasn’t dead, buried and forgotten. It was my way of surviving the torture all over again.

  Charlie pounded on the wall. “Are you naked yet?”

  A blow. A grunt. A crash and a quake. Something big, something like a body, bounced off the dumpster.

  “You should have never run from me.” Red spoke in my head. “Now you’re going to pay.”

  A violent boom announced another crash. More grunting and lots of clanging and banging. Dread. A muffled voice called my name.

  I made myself small in the corner and kept quiet. Maybe if I didn’t move he wouldn’t find me. Maybe if I didn’t make a peep he’d go away.

  The jingle of keys. A rattle of chains. The groan of the lid opening. A sliver of light penetrated the darkness. The shadow of a figure’s outline rose against the night sky.

  Oh, please, not him, not Red.

  “Lia?” a familiar voice called out gently. “Are you okay?”

  But Red had a caring voice too, a soft, sinuous, melodic voice he used when it suited him, one that had tricked me sometimes, especially at the beginning.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll help you out.”

  He was lying. Again. Pleasantries were Red’s preamble. They came right before the horror. He was up to no good whenever he was nice to me. Poor Pepe. He’d been just a puppy. All those deaths. Red said they were my fault. I dug my nails deeper into my scalp.

  “What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Lia?”

  Smooth, his voice was so smooth. I resisted the urge to do as he said. He’d kill at will, regardless of what I did. He’d kill me too and, some days, I wished he’d do so, sooner rather than later. I rocked back and forth on my heels, shivering. If only I were invisible.

  “Jesus, Lia, hang on.”

  The metal floor rattled with a thud. Steps. Silence. Someone crouched next to me. I braced for the blow. Instead, a gentle hand landed on my shoulder. I shrank into the corner.

  “Lia, baby, don’t be afraid.” The smooth voice again. “It’s me. Ash. Can you hear me?”

  Lia. Red never called me that. He didn’t know. He never knew. Red’s touch hurt. This touch didn’t hurt. Fear made it very hard to think straight.

  Ash knew my real name. I hadn’t told him anything, but he’d known everything about me from the very beginning. I opened my eyes.

  “I need you to let go, baby.” He pried my nails away from my head one finger at a time. “Can you feel it? You’re hurting yourself.”

  Oh, yeah, I could feel where my nails had sunk into my scalp and drawn blood. I wanted to explain how pain was necessary to sanity, but I was shivering too hard. I had no voice left in me, no strength to spare beyond breathing.

  “Those damn flashbacks, they seem so real, don’t they?” Ash kissed my hands and tucked them into my lap. “You’re in shock, but it’s fine, we can deal with shock.” He examined my scalp, blotting the scrapes with his fingers. “If you have to hurt yourself, the scalp is a good spot. Nobody can see the tiny cuts, but you can feel them so good.”

  Did he really understand?

  “When we got hit, pain was the
only way I knew I was alive.” He wiped off a bit of blood dribbling down my forehead. “I looked around and saw the wounded and the dying, the mess of blood, gore and body parts. The pain told me I was dying, but it also told me that I was alive.”

  He knew. He knew!

  “You’re alive, Lia,” he said. “You’re still in the fight. You’re going to be fine. But we do need to get you out of here. Can you help me, please?”

  Help him? Yes. That’s what I was supposed to do. Help Ash. My brain responded to that and so did my body. I reached out with a trembling hand and touched his face, tracing the grim lines bracketing his mouth and the worry lines etched between his eyes.

  “Is it really you?” I said. “Are you sure?”

  “It’s me.” He held out his cane. “Remember this?”

  Ash carried a cane. But Red was tricky. Red was cunning and sly.

  “The man who hurt you,” Ash said. “Did he speak to you like I do?”

  I shuddered. “Sometimes he pretended to be nice.”

  “But did he like talking to you? Did he like listening to your voice like I do? Did he tell you the truth, like I always do?”

  “No truth,” I mumbled. “Never the truth.”

  “Did he cuddle you in bed every night?” Ash put his arms around my shoulder and, rubbing the cold out of my arms, drew me against him. “Did he watch you dream while you slept? Did he love holding you like I do?”

  My eyes queried his. “You love holding me?”

  “I do,” he said.

  I looked down on my knees. “You like holding me even though you know I’m dirty?”

  “You might be a little smelly at the moment.” He lifted up my chin, made eye contact and smiled. “Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

  “Not dirty outside,” I mumbled. “Dirty inside.”

  He frowned. “Inside?”

  “Like dirty laundry, you know, used and stained.”

  “Oh.” His Adam’s apple bounced up and down his throat.

  I looked away. Why had I brought this up, here and now? It was something I’d never said before, something I hadn’t acknowledged until this very moment, not even to myself.

  “Lia, baby, look at me.” He thumbed the line of my jaw and waited until I met his stare. “Whatever happened to you, you’re none of those things. You’ll never be that to me.”

  “But you know, right?”

  “I got blown to pieces by an IED that killed some of the best men I knew.” He wiped the tears from my cheeks. “You got messed up by a son of a bitch who fucked up your life. No lies. No pretenses.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder and breathed in his scent, which was hard, because the stink of the dumpster had poisoned my sense of smell. Still, I recognized water, earth and cedar; consolation, shelter and courage.

  “Just in case you still have doubts...” He lowered his head and kissed me, a soft brush of lips that confirmed his identity for good. My body ratified his DNA as the only person on this earth who could make me feel like life was worth the pain even as we sat at the bottom of a giant garbage bin in a poorly lit back alley.

  “It is you,” I whispered.

  “Now you know.” He braced his hands under my elbows. “Can you get up?”

  I got to my feet. My knees were iffy. I clung to him until I found my balance. Everything looked hazy, undefined and out of focus. I shuffled toward the light as if I was ancient.

  Ash clasped his hands and offered a stirrup to my foot. “Ready?”

  My brain sputtered an afterthought. I remembered something important. I turned around in circles until I spotted the little raccoon. By now, the creature panted with exhaustion. Its little pink tongue stuck out of its mouth. Its eyes flickered with desperation.

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Ash cautioned. “Raccoons carry lots of diseases and this one could maul you.”

  “He’s tired.” I approached the creature tentatively. “I doubt he has much fight left in him.”

  “Let me do it,” Ash said.

  “I can do it.”

  He glanced at my shaky hands. “Are you sure?”

  “I need to do it.”

  “Okay.” He handed me his utility knife. “But you can’t go at it all alone.” He took off his jacket and circled the growling raccoon. “You’ve got to learn to rely on your friends. You’ve got to learn to trust your team.”

  In one swift movement, he flung his jacket over the raccoon, dove to the ground and held it down. “Now,” he said. “Be careful.”

  “Easy.” I knelt next to the raccoon. “Let’s get out of here.”

  My fingers quaked like aspen leaves, but the ropes were frayed and easy to cut through. My knuckles brushed against the raccoon’s coat. It was so soft and it reminded me of poor Pepe. Damn the tears streaming down my face. The old wounds gaped and oozed, but I forced myself to breathe and cut the last rope.

  “Ready?” Ash said.

  I stepped away. “Go home, buddy.”

  Ash went from knees to feet in a flash. The raccoon leaped and, hackles raised, lunged toward me. Ash intercepted it with his cane, which ended up getting the brunt of the critter’s frustrations, before it bounced off the walls and darted out of the dumpster.

  “You’re welcome,” I called after him.

  “That was close.” Ash cocked his eyebrows. “Better?”

  “Much.” My knees locked and my mind flowed with a measure of clarity.

  “Up,” he said and this time I accepted the boost and vaulted over the side.

  Behind me, Ash wrapped his fingers over the edge of the metal wall and pulled himself up and out like the athlete he was. He landed on his good foot without a sound.

  The cool air freshened my lungs and cleared my mind. The night was quiet. I gawked. Charlie Nowak was fastened to the lamppost by the chain coiled around his neck. His jacket was ripped in several places. Bruises darkened his face and blood oozed from his violently crooked nose. He wasn’t breathing too comfortably either.

  “Once a bully, always a bully,” Ash said. “If I remember right, you were also the class clown.”

  “Please,” Charlie rasped. “I can’t breathe!”

  “A pile of shit like you is a waste of good air.” Ash undid the chains from the lamppost. “If you ever bother Lia again, I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes.”

  It wasn’t a threat or a boast. It was a promise. There was no violence to Ash’s voice, no showing off, bluster or excess testosterone. He meant exactly what he said.

  “Walk.” He led Charlie by the chain. “Climb up the crates.”

  “But why?” Charlie struggled to scramble up the crates with his hands fastened behind his back.

  “Genius.” Ash boosted Charlie up. “You’re about to get a dose of your own medicine.”

  “Ash?”

  “Stay out of this, Lia.”

  “But—”

  “No buts,” Ash said.

  “It was a joke,” Charlie said. “I never meant to hurt her.”

  “But you did,” Ash said. “You frightened her, and for that, you’ll pay.”

  Ash grabbed his cane by the ends and, wedging it beneath Charlie, pushed him up as if he was a barbell. Charlie teetered on his belly at the edge of the dumpster, babbling senseless pleas. With a final thrust Ash pushed him in. Charlie made a monumental racket when he landed. Ash closed the lid and jammed it shut.

  “That’s done.” He wiped the dirt off his hands.

  “Remind me never to piss you off.” I wavered. “We can’t leave him there all night.”

  “After what he did to you, I could.”

  The fury I spotted in his eyes frightened me. It brought memories of Red’s simmering violen
ce, always boiling beneath his skin. I stumbled away from Ash. Were all men vicious at heart?

  Ash pulled me into his embrace. “Don’t run away from me.” He kissed the top of my head. “I said I could leave him there to be shredded by the garbage truck. But I won’t.”

  I let out a long breath and held on to him with all I had. I didn’t realize how stiff and cold I was until I made contact with his body.

  “Repeat after me.” He placed his jacket over my shoulders. “I will not get into a smelly dumpster all by myself. I’ll count on other people to help to solve my problems.”

  It was a credo that went against everything I believed.

  “Others can help,” Ash said. “You don’t have to go at it alone.”

  But I did have to go at it alone, if I wanted my friends—and Ash—to survive.

  I gulped down the fear and forced my thoughts to flow. “How did you end up showing up when you did?”

  “I had some informal meetings with a couple of people tonight, including the sheriff.”

  “You went in the bar?”

  “I did,” he said.

  “Wow,” I said. “I bet that took some serious effort on your part.”

  “The one time I manage to go in there and sit for a while, and you’re nowhere to be found.”

  “Why do I have a feeling that you being around wasn’t a coincidence?”

  Ash ignored the question and whistled instead. Neil sprang from the darkness, trailing his service leash.

  “Where was he?” I said.

  “I wanted him to hang back, so I left him in the truck.” Ash picked up the leash and patted Neil behind the ears. “You did good, boy. It’s something we’ve been working on. I didn’t want him in a fight.”

  I squeezed his hand. “I didn’t want you in a fight either.”

  “Most fights are better fought sooner, rather than later.”

  “But how did you know about Charlie?”

  “It wasn’t so hard to figure out,” Ash said. “I put my ear to the wind. The day after you came home with those bruises on your wrists, his guys were calling him ‘Blue Balls.’”

  “You did more than put your ear to the wind,” I realized. “You decided he would try again. That’s why you insisted on driving me to and from work. Have you been waiting all these nights for him to make his move?”

 

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