by A. J. Summer
There’s a chick with wicked red streaks in her hair standing at the front door checking us out, but when we climb up the stairs, she moves out the way and lets us pass. Ana mumbles something about bitch when we are out of earshot, and I elbow her in the ribs. “Ouch,” she giggles.
“So where is this hunk of yours?” I say, looking around at all the people. Ana takes a look around the lounge, and she pulls me toward the kitchen. There’s a bunch of people sitting at the table drinking tequila, and I immediately think of Runner. That guy has ruined me for my favorite Mexican poison.
A guy with blond hair and clear blue eyes, sitting at the corner of the table, stands up and walks over to Ana. She smiles brightly and throws her arms around him. That must be James. He is lanky, with jeans that fit just right, and his baby face is clear of any facial hair. Wow, a total turnaround from her last boyfriend, Mike. I look at the other people at the table. There’s a guy that’s so perfect he actually hurts my eyes, so I look at the girl next to him, but she’s almost worse. So I end up staring at a devil with meadow-green eyes and pitch black hair. A shiver snakes up my spine and I look down. Wow. That guy is intense; I could feel that stare all the way to the soul I sold a long time ago. I bounce a little on my temporarily weakened knees. All that from just one look. I feel like all my dirty secrets have been burnt straight to the surface of my skin.
I’m grateful when James and Ana move outside, and we take a seat on the opposite side of the pool.
“Talon, this is James. James, Talon is my best friend,” Ana says, making the introductions. I shake James’s hand. “Nice party,” I say. “Thanks. It’s a welcome home party for Jase,” James explains with a charming smile. He is quite handsome. A real darn cutie. Ana better watch herself or this guy is going to fall right through her slippery little fingers.
“Jase?” I ask out of pure curiosity. I like people with strange names.
“The guy with the piercing and tattoos sitting at the table,” James grins. Oh wow, he really is a cutie. I can’t remember seeing anyone with tattoos or piercings inside. Just possessive green eyes.
“You were staring right at him,” Ana says, when I don’t say anything. I really can’t remember anyone with tattoos or piercings.
“What? I didn’t stare at anybody,” I defend quickly. Then I laugh because I did look at green eyes just a little bit too long.
“Does he have green eyes?” I ask James. What? I saw five people on our way here. The chick at the door, the perfect pupil-scorching couple, Green Eyes, and James. I’m not very observant, bite me. James throws his arms in the air and lets them slap loudly onto his thighs. “It’s always the eyes that get them,” he says while laughing at me.
“Well, they are some pretty amazing eyes,” I say, laughing with him.
James pulls a straight face and then looks back at the house. “Don’t let Mia hear you say that. She’s pretty protective of those green eyes,” he says, popping a cute smile at the end.
“Would you ladies like something to drink?” James offers. I’m really starting to like this guy, and I hope for Ana’s sake that she can keep it together. He’ll be good for her.
“Sure, I’ll have whatever you have, and Ana will have a water,” I rush to say before Ana can say anything. She starts protesting, but I give her a shut-up-and-take-the-damn-H2O look and she mercifully closes her mouth.
“Okay,” James says then disappears into the house. “He seems nice,” I say to Ana. Her only answer is her big smile.
“Oh fuck,” she says as her smile falters and slips off her face.
“What?” I manage to ask right before Mike walks up to Ana. At first I think he is going to hit her, he looks that mad, but then he surprises me and ask her in the kindest way to please leave with him. But Ana, being Ana, must always be stubborn.
“Ana, please, I’m asking you nicely. Something’s happened. We have to go now. Runner is already on his way to Bailey,” Mike pleads with big eyes.
“What happened?” I ask Mike, but he doesn’t even look at me.
“Ana, now,” Mike says a little louder, but she continues to ignore him. Then Mike bends down and throws her over his shoulder, but Ana puts up such a fight that they both fall down. And that’s when Mike loses his patience. I don’t know if he meant to grab her by the hair, but he pulls her face up to meet his and screams in her face.
“You silly little girl, you have no idea what you’ve done!” In the next breath, Mike is against the wall, and all I can see is black tattoos flying as Jase swings his fists into Mike’s face over and over again. Mike grunts on each blow until all I can hear is the air puffing from his lips and the relentless blows of Jase’s fists.
Fuck! I grab Ana and pull her toward the back door. On our way there James grabs onto Ana’s arm, but I push him off when I see Jonah heading our way. We need to get out of here. When I look back, Jonah is busy punching James in the face. Ana sees it too, and she’s crying hysterically now. She fights my hold on her, but I tighten my grip to the point of bruising her, and I push our way through the house. The chick from the front door is screaming at another girl who is hovering over a guy on the floor, his face is covered in blood and I’m pretty sure it’s the perfect dude from the table. I drag Ana behind me faster until I finally get her out the door and into my car.
Thank goodness the stubborn door worked. My hands are shaking so much I can’t get the key into the ignition. After the second time of dropping my keys, I sit back and take a deep breath. I try again, and this time I manage to finally get it in. I let the car idle as I take out my phone and dial the police. I give them the address and tell them about a fight in the neighborhood. I don’t want anyone in that house getting hurt because of Ana’s and my stupidity. I should’ve phoned Mike the minute she showed up at my apartment.
I back away from the curb and floor the gas as soon as we round the corner. I can’t wait to get home and safely away from this mess. There was just blood everywhere back there at the house. I hate blood. It reminds me of him. Of my secret, and it seems like my demons are just waiting to rip me apart. They are howling and hissing, salivating at the thought of me failing. But I won’t, I’ve already won. I’m halfway there.
Once we are home I send Mike a text telling him to come get Ana. The further I stay away from these people the better. What happened tonight was way too extreme for just an overprotective ex-boyfriend. And what does Runner have to do with it?
RUNNER
When I get to Reno’s house, it’s dark. It’s past midnight so that explains the lack of lights. But even when I use to stay here, there was always a light on. Even the light of the fountain in the middle of the driveway is off. It’s like the whole house is mourning. The brick and mortar, the very foundation of the house, now seems so somber. I press the intercom button and Stephan answers. “It’s Runner.”
The big iron gate starts swinging open slowly. The whirr of the motor, slowly pulling the gates open, reminds me of the day I first got here. The day I agreed to die, the day I agreed to shoot Daniel Migelli’s son.
A minute or so later the porch light flicks on, and Emily steps out the front door. She’s still wearing her white apron even though it’s way past working hours. I park my car and climb out. Ten steps, a fountain on the right. Two dogs barking on the left. Five stairs, and I’m face to face with a pale Emily. She immediately throws her arms around me. “He didn’t do it,” she sobs. “Shhh, I know.” I console her and move us through the door so I can close it before anyone sees me. I don’t know if there are any more reporters hanging around.
I walk us to the kitchen and switch on the kettle. I don’t see any of the guys around. I’ll have to ask Stephan how it went.
“Stephan,” I say into the small intercom on the kitchen wall. “Yes?” he answers immediately. I have to choose my words carefully. “How was the meeting?” I ask. I know he’ll know what I mean. “Just got back. The blues showed up. We split up,” he says dryly. “Okay,” I say. I can’t r
eally say anything else. Why did they need the police? I’ll have to go find Stephan after my chat with Emily.
“You should get some rest,” I say to Emily when I walk towards the kettle that’s now boiling. She takes two cups from the shelf. “I can’t sleep knowing someone came into this house and killed Mr. Parker,” she says. Then she dabs the fresh tears spilling from her eyes. I try to take the cups from her, but she shoos me away just like she did when I was still staying here.
“I’ll find out what happened, Emily.” The old woman just shakes her head. “Mr. Xavier is here. Handsome boy, just like his dad. Bit quiet, but I suppose it’s a lot to take in. Poor boy, never even knew his dad.” She clucks and looks at the door angrily, saying something I don’t understand. “What is it, Emily,” I ask, touching her arm softly.
“It’s not my business,” she says, looking like she regrets saying anything. “You can tell me. You know you can trust me,” I say. My interest is piqued, and something tells me Emily might know something.
“Come,” she says, taking the two cups to the table. I sit down next to her and take my cup, thanking her. “This boy, he comes in here, being rude to your friends. Mr. Parker wouldn’t like that. This is your house, just as much as his. Your friends were always guests here. Guests deserve respect,” she says. Emily is right; Reno was very specific about how people must be treated in his house. But maybe this Xavier guy is feeling a little unsettled after everything that’s happened. Then I remember something. “Emily?” “Hmm?” she says absentmindedly, staring at her coffee mug. “Was there a girl here yesterday morning?” I ask as casually as possible. I know she wouldn’t like to gossip about Reno’s comings and goings, another thing he was very specific about. The question seems to startle her, and she lifts her old salt-and-pepper-covered head from where it’s still bent over her cup so fast I fear it might snap off. “A girl? No-no, no girls here. Not since the last time your friends were over,” she says. Her old eyes look confused and I can see she’s tired.
“It’s okay, Emily. You go on to bed now,” I say, tapping her arm lightly with my hand.
“First, I take you to your room,” she says, shuffling to her feet.
“I need to speak to Stephan. I can see myself to my room. It’s still the same one, isn’t it?”
She doesn’t look happy, but she smiles when she confirms that my old room is indeed still mine. I’m not sure for how long, though, with the new Parker in charge. I finish my coffee when Emily finally shuffles out of the kitchen and into the direction of her room. I rinse my dirty mug and set it on the rack to dry. Let it never be said my mother didn’t teach me any manners.
I look around the darkened living area of the Parker residence when my eyes scan across to the door of the room where Danny Migelli shot Ethan, and a lot of old demons rush to the surface. Fuck it, tonight is as good a night as any to finally slay the sleep ruiners. I open the door and flick the light switch. Everything in the room still looks the same, except for the area rug that covers the spot where Ethan was shot. I stand in the same spot where, just six years ago, we made a deal with the devil. It doesn’t seem all that terrifying now.
“Do you know who has my bag?” Danny Migelli asked Ethan. “No.” “Then you are of no use to me,” Danny Migelli drawled in a flat, bored tone. The shot goes off, and Ethan tumbles forward. Danny Migelli moves down the line until he is tapping his gun against my jaw.
“Fuck you, I’m going to kill you,” I say to the ghosts of Danny Migelli’s memory. A laugh rips from my throat, and it grows louder with each breath I take. It sounds manic, but I can’t stop it. All this time I’ve been avoiding this house, afraid of my own nightmares, and now that I’m here, it’s nothing. It’s just a room, made of brick and sand, no ghosts of past mistakes hiding in the corners. Come on, Runner, you’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for. And I am, I’m fucking unbreakable now. I have to be if I’m going to stand up against the father of the man I killed. Daniel Migelli isn’t the cocky S.O.B his son was six years ago. He is seasoned in breaking the law and not being caught. He lives for the kill. Well, I live because I want to stay alive. I’d say that makes us worthy opponents.
I don’t find Stephan in the control room, and that could be because it’s already 2 a.m. So when I get into my bed, I fall asleep. My demons slain for the day.
DAY FOUR
*
“Who are you?” My head snaps up from the newspaper article I’m reading in Reno’s office to the guy hovering in the door. A younger version of my boss looks back at me. Eyes, nose, the only difference is this guy’s lack of grey streaks by his temples. I stand up slowly from behind Reno’s desk, and the guy takes a step forward. This must be Xavier Parker. I come to a stop a foot away from him. He watches me closely. He looks nervous.
“Runner,” I say, extending my hand out towards him.
He straightens his shoulders before asking, “What are you doing here?” I sigh under my breath and almost run my hand through my hair. I’ve noticed I do that when something upsets me. And when I get upset, the headaches normally get worse. Hence the hands on my skull.
“I work for Reno,” I answer with my hand still suspended mid-air. Doesn’t this guy have any manners? Damn mob children, think they are better than everybody else.
“Oh…” He takes a deep breath like he is pulling himself together. Then he finishes his sentence, “I’m Parker.” Only then does he finally shake my hand, firmly. I incline my head to him and give his hand an equally firm squeeze. Just Parker then. Maybe he isn’t fond of his first name.
“I don’t know what to do with this mess,” Parker says, looking down to the floor. I drop his hand and turn away towards the window looking out onto the fountain.
“Right now, you don’t have to do anything,” I say, trying to sound sympathetic, but honestly I’m not. In six years, this is the first time I’m seeing this guy. He looks about my age, maybe a year or two older. So what beef did he have with his dad? I suppose it doesn’t matter now, because Parker over here just slipped and landed with his ass in a whole ocean of butter. This house, fucking mansion really, is all his, the restaurant in town is his. The money is his. He can sell it all, and he’ll never have to look at this place again. And frankly, I think that is what Mr. I’m-too-good-for-this-shit is going to do.
Luckily, we gave up on the drug trade when people started asking questions about Pete’s warehouse. No illegal shit is going on over here. The loan house and casino are legit, and they are going to be mine soon. I worked hard for that shit, and me and the guys will make it work. I might not con people into borrowing money from me to pay me back after they lose their money at the Indigo.
“So what do you do for my dad exactly?” Parker asks from behind me. I turn around, and the guy is staring at the picture that Reno always keeps on his desk. It’s similar to the one out in the hall. A blonde-haired woman and the little boy. I ignore his question and ask one of my own. “Is that you?” I realize I just told him that his dad never said shit about him, but I’m not here to play happy homemaker, so I don’t really give a shit. What I do care about is Mike and Jonah not being back with Ana yet.
Parker picks the frame up, looks at it for a second, and puts it down lightening fast. The little silver frame sways forward and lands face down on the desk. “Yeah…shit,” he says then clears his throat. “So what do you do?” he asks a lot clearer and more determined. I consider telling him to fuck off, but seeing that I’m in his house now and me and my friends don’t really have anywhere else to go, I decide to play nice. Can’t be wandering around these streets and risk someone seeing me. “I run the Indigo and the loan house in the next town, the Square. Maria’s Square.” And I own them now, I add in my head. “Oh, like a manager?” Parker asks. Fuck. “No, like the owner. Reno signed them over to me. His lawyer phoned me last night. The same guy who probably phoned you.”
Parker’s eyes widen and then narrow slightly. It looks like he wants to say something.
And for a minute, I wish he would ask me why. Why does some guy that’s obviously younger than him get a multi-million dollar casino while he gets a restaurant? I don’t know what Reno did with all his money, but I bet this guy is getting a hefty inheritance. All that drug money had to go somewhere. The casino was bought with some of it, same as the restaurant here in Bailey. I know the place. A little Italian bistro. They sell the best homemade ice cream. Mia’s favorite. The loan house was just a cover-up for the last drug deals we did, to make sure all loose ends were tied. You don’t want to leave those kinds of enemies behind. But Reno realized how desperate people become when they need cash, and I think he had a bit of a moral power struggle with himself. He craves the power and fear, and loan sharks have that.
My phone starts to ring, and I slip it to my ear without looking. “Runner,” I answer. It’s quiet on the other side, and the silence sends an icy chill down my spine.
“Mr. Runner, so nice to finally speak to you.”
“Who is this?” I say, turning away from Parker, who isn’t even trying not to listen to my conversation. I walk to the other side of the room.
“I think you know,” the voice on the other side says dryly.
And I do know, I just won’t admit it. My pulse is kicking wildly in my neck, and I have to concentrate on each syllable before I say it, but I take a chance and bluff.
“You are wasting my time. I don’t have time for games,” I say.
“I knew there was a reason my brother kept you around, and I doubt it’s because you’re another bastard son. You are a cocky son of a bitch. Let’s see if you are still so cocky after… I have someone who wants to speak to you.”
Please don’t let it be my sister. The thought flashes in my mind, but when Mike’s voice carries over the phone line, I sit down on the table in relief. “Runner, fuck I’m sorry…”