“I said, his name is Sam. And my name is Piper.”
“You little…” She walks toward me. Her head is an easy target, so within reach. There is no logic, only wrath, only bitter hatred as I swing the shovel and she’s down. The formidable opponent so easily stomped beneath my feet. I let the shovel fall to the earth beside her.
I stand over the Mother, panting, my thoughts trapped in a hazy fog where everyone I’ve ever known is dead or dying. Everyone but the man who deserves it most. The Father curses when he walks onto the porch and his eyes meet mine. It is the first time—the only time—I’ve seen fear in their blue depths. It lingers there for only an instant, until they harden and he steps backward. He doesn’t even blink as he moves slowly, steadily, toward the rack just inside the door where he keeps his gun. I can see it in his eyes. The game is over. It’s time to sweep away the toys.
He’s going to kill me, but not before I do everything in my power to make him pay for what he did to my little brother.
My heart pounds blood through my veins so fast that everything else slows in comparison. I reach down and tug the knife free from beneath the Mother’s hand. My muscles coil beneath me and explode up as I launch forward. My fury won’t let me stop. His fingers scratch across the wood, flipping the latch, but I’m faster than either of us expects. My knife slices through his arm. Damaging his muscle, so when he reaches for the gun it dangles limply from his fingers.
Losing Nana and Sam in a few weeks was more than even I could take. The Father said they were punished for my mistakes. Both of their deaths were my fault. Now he had been punished, too.
I shake my head hard and push my palms against my temples, trying to shove away the images of what I’d done. I don’t want to see this, don’t want to think about the loss of control and sanity. About the blood pumping in my ears so loud, so hard I couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but stab him. Even with the gun in his grasp, the Father couldn’t protect himself from the monster I’d become.
They were barely alive when I walked to their bedroom, took the money they’d stolen from Nana, and ran.
I push my fingertips hard over my eyelids. No more thinking about them. They couldn’t have survived. Impossible.
Not them. No, not them again. Never again.
Who else could’ve been watching me from the booth? I’d walked past Brothers’s apartment today on my way to work. It is little more than rubble. He couldn’t have survived that. Every instinct urges me to run home to Sanda, just in case, to be certain he hasn’t taken her again.
He deserved to die. He had to. He was a bad man.
My chest hurts, quick gasps burn my lungs. I focus my energy and draw in a deep breath, trying to keep it as steady as I can. Whatever is happening, now is not the time to panic.
Cam walks in, smiling, and I’m across the room in an instant.
“What happened?” My fingers are gripping onto his shirt before I realize what I’m doing, but I don’t care. “Who is it?”
“Whoa, calm down.” He curses under his breath and wraps both arms around me. Everything inside me withdraws from the world, the fear, his touch. I crumple to the floor and scoot into the corner to escape.
He keeps talking, his voice low enough I can barely hear him with my face buried against my knees. “I’m so sorry I scared you.” The remorse in his tone is pure and his concern reaches out to me through it, offering acceptance that I don’t know how to receive. “There isn’t anyone in that booth. Mary doesn’t remember seating anyone there. Your eyes must’ve been playing tricks on you.”
My fingers are balled into fists that refuse to release, and my emotion leaves me in a huge gush. I lean my head against the wall behind me, unable to hold it up under the mountain of everything that has happened in the last year. Flashes of Sam’s body, his fresh grave, the blood, the Parents, the burning house, Brothers’s closet, Sanda’s eyes. They pelt me from every direction, unexpected, like hail in a summer storm. I don’t cry—I can’t. But I’m humming, and Sam’s humming, and I feel I might break under the weight of everything I’ve done, everything I’ve lost.
I don’t know how many minutes pass, but when I become aware again Cam is sitting beside me, as close as possible without touching me. I hear a slight scratching sound and look down to see he’s rubbing his hand against the ground beside my fist, like somehow the comfort will pass through the ground and into me. I steal choking gasps of air. I don’t know when I stopped humming, but Sam continues in my head. It’s slower, quieter. Like Sam is trying to make me feel better.
I’ve calmed enough to be embarrassed now, but I’m not. The wall that keeps my past carefully caged has crumbled and I can’t do anything to rebuild it. It’s good not to be alone, that Cam didn’t leave me, didn’t run away. He raises his hand off the ground, holding it still in the air, and waits. Without his saying a word, I know he wants to help. Sucking in a deep breath, I realize I want it, too—a small piece of protection, of human comfort. My hand shudders as I slide it beneath his and he lowers his hand to rest over my still-closed fist. It’s better than I hoped. He shouldn’t feel good, not this good. But his warmth penetrates my skin and sinks deep into me. His smell fills me with peace and knowledge that everything will be okay. I want to stay here. I want him to help me through it. More than that, I think I need someone if I’m going to make it through this at all. I can’t do it alone.
And that scares me more than the disappearing man from the corner booth.
The door opens and Lily walks in. Her jaw drops, then her lips curve into a sneer. I move to twist my fist free, but Cam’s hand tightens and won’t let me go.
“If you two are done making out, maybe she can go help Mary. She doesn’t get any privileges because of you, Cam. Specifically, taking an extra-long break just so you can ‘make sure she’s all right,’” she mutters, as she walks toward the door, but her next words are crystal clear. “She looks just fine to me.”
As soon as she walks out, Cam releases his grip. I slide my hand out and get up from the floor. Yeah, now I’m embarrassed. It’s important he understand that this doesn’t … can’t mean anything—even if I am still overwhelmed by his kindness and the warmth lingering from his hand on mine. “Thank you, and I’m sorry. I’ve had a hard time lately and you were there. It won’t happen again.”
He gets to his feet and moves toward the door. His eyes are guarded, but I can see a lingering sadness beneath. “It’s fine. I’m only doing what you paid me for.”
A very tall, very loud man blocks the door before it’s even all the way open. “Hey, Marco!” He slaps Cam across the shoulder. I move a few steps back. The name Marco sends a chill through my veins and suddenly makes Cam look less trustworthy in my eyes.
“Me and the boys need to talk to you about a few things.”
Cam shakes his head before the other man even finishes. “Not now, Oscar.”
“Oh, now’s not convenient for you, is it? What if we decide not to make it optional?” His voice lowers a bit and he turns and his eyes find mine, looking me over before he leers back at Cam. “Well now, who is this?”
Cam’s expression flashes anger as he glances back at me, but just as quickly it’s gone. “Her name is Charlotte.”
Oscar winks and nudges Cam with his elbow. “Yeah, sure it is.”
Cam ignores him and continues. “She’s new. She’ll be replacing Mary.”
“I’d better get back to work. Thanks for your help, Marco.” I slide past them into the hallway. The way Oscar’s eyes move over me is making my skin crawl to get away.
“No.” Cam’s voice is sharp, but his eyes beg me not to argue, not this time, so I stay silent. He turns back to Oscar. “Wait in Lily’s office. I’ll be right there.”
Oscar inclines his head and grins at me before walking away.
I follow Cam back into the room, staying close to the door. Everything he’s ever told me suddenly feels colored with shadows of doubt.
“Marco is my fi
rst name. Marco Cameron Angelo.” He stares me straight in the eye as he continues. “My mom wanted Cameron, my dad wanted a family name, and I prefer my mom’s choice.”
I tilt my chin down but don’t say anything. He steps closer, and with my back against the door already, I can’t retreat. “I swear to you. You clearly have your reasons not to trust people, but I want you to trust me. Everything I’ve told you is true.”
His warmth seems to jump across the inches between us, and I have to fight the pull I feel toward him.
“Trust doesn’t matter. Neither does your name, honestly, and I’d better get to work before Lily comes for me.” I give him a half smile and continue. “I really don’t want to face her wrath any more than I have to.”
Cam sighs, resigned, then reaches out and inches even closer, grabbing the handle to the door behind me. Every move he makes, every word he utters fills me with a confused sort of longing. It makes me feel like I’m losing control, and I know I shouldn’t like that, but somehow it isn’t bad with him. “I’d hate to get you in any more trouble with Lily on your first day.” His breath is warm through the fabric covering my shoulder.
I slide a step to my right so he can open the door, then I walk through it without a word or a glance back in his direction.
* * *
Before I leave for the night, I’m certain I’ve proven I’m the worst employee ever. I used the wrong cleanser and stained the bathroom counter, broke three glasses, and offended their most loyal customer when I couldn’t make myself shake his hand.
“I’m sorry. Maybe next time will be better?” I shouldn’t have agreed to take this job to begin with.
“It wasn’t that bad,” Lily lies, then shrugs and groans as she rolls her shoulders back. “I’m exhausted.”
“Right, thanks. I’ll see you later.” I walk to the door, but when I open it I see a man standing across the street in the shadows. He doesn’t move, he watches, he waits. My body goes cold and I step back, slamming the heavy door. It’s the only thing I can put between us besides the city street and the night air. When I hear a crash I scramble behind a table and everything is silent.
Through the window on the door, I see the man across the street step out of the shadow. His short gray hair shines in the light of the approaching bus. It stops and he climbs on board. I take a deep breath and stand up, relaxing my tense muscles. Then I hear a soft sob and the scraping of glass against the wood floor.
“Lily?”
When I step forward, I see her crouched on the ground behind the host station. Broken bits of glass cover the ground before her. Cradled in her hands is the picture frame with her sister that I’d asked about earlier. Tears slide down her face, and I don’t know what to say. It must’ve fallen off the wall when I slammed the door. All I can think is how it would crush me if someone had broken a picture of Sam.
“Get out.” Her voice sounds haunted. Gino walks over from the back room, and without a word moves to help clean up the glass. His eyes are cold and accusing when he glares up at me.
I struggle to find the right words, any words to express how sorry I am, but it doesn’t matter. I know, were I in her place, there is nothing anyone could say or do to ease the pain. I whisper, “I’m sorry,” as I slip out the door into the night.
10
Jessie’s Studio is a martial arts school on the corner a few blocks from my apartment. They specialize in a form of self-defense called Krav Maga. The studio is actually a bit closer than Angelo’s. I hadn’t warned Cam about Sanda when I asked him to teach me. I figure if I spring her on him, he might be less likely to argue and ask questions in front of her. At least that’s what I hope.
Sanda and I are a few minutes early so we sit beside the wall while another class is finishing up. Eight adults move in sync with the instructor. Sway to one side, duck, sway to the other, kick, punch, punch—it’s a violent dance. I’m glad I’m not on the receiving end of the instructor’s kicks. She’s petite, not much taller than me, and probably in her late forties. Her feet could do serious damage though. I wonder if this is Cam’s aunt. Her dark eyes remind me of Lily’s, but more friendly, which says a lot considering she just pinned a guy twice her size to the mat in two moves.
Sanda’s watching every motion like she’s trying to burn them into her memory. Her shining hair feels like evidence that I’m still a good person. I don’t know how I’m going to make this work, but the only thing I’m sure of is that any life I build for her could disappear in an instant.
And if that happens, I want Sanda to be able to get in a few good kicks the next time she meets someone like Steve Brothers.
His name sends a chill down my spine and the dream from last night flashes through my mind. She’s been with me five days now, but the memory of what I did to save her is still fresh. Nightmares of Brothers’s skin melting in the flames as he screams and writhes on the dirty brown rug are far too regular. I’d been relieved more than once when Sanda woke me up—until I’d realized she was screaming, too.
Nightmares are just part of the territory. No matter how far we run, we can’t escape the memories of where we’ve been.
I tried letting her borrow the electric blanket, but then we were both restless. She didn’t understand why it helped me and I didn’t feel ready to tell her about Sam. She sleeps better now that I started lying on the bed next to her. She doesn’t let go of my hand most of the time. This morning, I’d thought it was Sam’s hand for a few sweet moments. When I saw her dark hair instead of his spiky blond mess, it destroyed me all over again. I’m glad Sanda was sound asleep so she didn’t see me fall apart.
The instructor and her class bow to each other and their lesson ends. The people gather their belongings to leave, and I get to my feet with Sanda only a moment behind me. The teacher walks over.
“Hello! What can I help you with?” she asks as she takes a long swig from her water bottle.
“Hi, I’m Charlotte. We have an appointment with Cam.”
“I’m Jessie.” She smiles and points across the room to where a guy just came in. I have to blink twice to recognize him. “He’s right over there.”
Cam looks like an entirely different person in loose sweatpants and a sleeveless white shirt. His biceps are far more intimidating than I expected, but the rest of him is so casual, he could’ve walked in off the beach. The way his brown hair falls across his face as he sets down his bag doesn’t help.
“Um, wow,” I say. I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this.
I don’t realize I’d said it aloud, let alone how it sounded, until Jessie sputters the water she’s drinking and coughs. My cheeks burn and I turn my attention toward smoothing Sanda’s hair. “I’m sorry.”
Jessie glances behind her and Cam tilts his head toward us. “He may not look that experienced, but he’s my nephew. He really is the best. He teaches all the private lessons.” She grins and her skin wrinkles around her eyes. “Give him an hour, and I promise you won’t be disappointed.”
I nod with an exaggerated sigh, knowing Cam is listening.
When I turn his way, he’s leaning against the wall watching us with his arms crossed over his chest. He walks forward, his voice echoing in the large room. “Is this a friend of yours?”
“Yes, this is Sanda.”
He extends a hand to her and waits. She pivots to face him and stares at his fingers a moment before I see her swallow and place her hand in his. My heart aches; I know how hard that was for her. In so many ways, I wish I were more like her.
“Very nice to meet you.” He raises his face to watch me, leaving a list of implied questions in the air between us.
I clap my hands together. “Okay, so where do we begin?”
Cam laughs. “You want to dive in?”
“I think that might be best.” My voice sounds a little shaky. I know I’ll have to let him touch me. I’ve been preparing myself. The idea alone turns me into a boiling pit of emotions, but I know I have to try.
“I am.” Sanda speaks from beside me. She is scared, but I can tell she’s trying hard to be brave. I’m filled with sympathy. The first few weeks are the most difficult … especially around boys.
I step forward, but Cam motions for me to stay and beckons Sanda until she stands in front of him. “I’m going to take a minute to figure out what you two already know.” He kneels down by her and smiles, but I know him better. I see recognition in his eyes as they take in her fear. This is Cam after all. The first thing I learned about him was he always sees more than you want him to. “You look strong. How old are you?”
Sanda glances back at me and waits for my nod before answering. “I’m nine.”
His grin widens and he hops back up on his feet, moving fluidly into a defensive position. “Okay, Sanda. I want you to put your arms up like this. I’m going to come after you, like I’m going to grab you, and you try to stop me.”
Sanda doesn’t move and her face seems like it’s turned to stone.
My instincts flare and I have a strong urge to grab Sanda and run. “Wait, can we have a minute first?”
Cam stands and walks back to his water bottle. He shrugs like he couldn’t care less, but his eyes never leave us.
Sanda walks over to me and I kneel down before her. “This isn’t going to be easy. He’s going to try to touch you. He will touch you.”
Her eyes are filled with panic and determination. “But it’s okay?”
“No, it’s never okay unless you feel okay, but I think we both need what he can teach us. You know?” With Cam listening, I don’t want to say anything more specific. He might not be super-excited about teaching a killer like me how to defend herself. “For safety, in the future.”
Her lip trembles but she nods and turns back to face him. I can’t stand seeing her fear and not taking it away, not trying to erase it when I know I can. Maybe we don’t have to do this, maybe not yet, not today. I don’t want to let Cam touch me any more than she does.
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