Cut Me Free

by J. R. Johansson

  The money disappears into Jim’s pocket before I can blink, and he leans a little closer. His breath smells like he drinks more liquor than he pours for customers, and I fight the urge to take two big steps backward. “Yeah, I know him. That it?”

  “No.” A dark thrill of anticipation sweeps through me. “Have you seen him recently?”

  “Yeah, he comes in pretty regular.” Jim stuffs the corner of the towel into the waistband of his jeans, and I’m glad I didn’t order anything to drink. “Don’t talk to him more’n I have to though. We get some twisted customers in here.”

  I hear a low chuckle from Cam behind me and he mutters, “No freakin’ kidding.”

  “He moved a little over a month ago and I’m trying to track him down. Any clue where he’s living now?” I ask.

  Jim shakes his head and his jowls keep moving when his face stops. “Nah. But come back with more money tomorrow and I’ll introduce you to his buddy. He’s always here on weekdays.”

  I bend closer, pretend I can still breathe and my throat isn’t threatening to close up just from being near him, and smile. Jim grins back and I see a couple of missing teeth on each side. “I want to surprise him. You don’t mind keeping our chat a secret, do you, Jim?” I pull out another hundred and tap his chest with the corner.

  “Nope. I’m good with secrets.”

  “I bet you are.”

  * * *

  My mind is a jumbled mess as we walk back to my apartment. What we’d discovered at the library, plus Jim and the bar, made me want to take a hundred scalding hot showers. Even with Cam sleeping on the couch, my nightmares plague me. I’d awoken this morning, screaming, from a world filled with hanging knives, the Father, Brothers, and blood—so much blood. Sanda cowered in the corner as Cam tried to hold me, but I’d pushed him away. That’s the answer. It’s the only way to stay safe from the pain.

  Only I’m not sure I want to be safe if pushing him away again and again is what it takes.

  As he walks beside me, I can’t meet his eyes. I’m pretty sure he’ll find mine empty, haunted. I don’t want him to pity me. I’m stronger than that.

  “I’m confused.” The truth comes without thought. My brain is too overwhelmed to battle with honesty.

  “I know.” Cam doesn’t need me to clarify. This has been hanging between us like a dark cloud. He knows exactly what I’m referring to. “I was wrong. I don’t know that I would’ve done anything different in those situations. You did the best you could with what you had and there is nothing wrong with that. I’m sorry.”

  My relief on hearing his words isn’t nearly as sweet as it should be. So many things have been poisoned between us. If I’d never told him about my past, if Sanda and I had never been in danger … There are so many ifs, and at the end of each is something I wish I could take from him right now. Something I’ve never asked for from anyone: a moment of solace, a moment of protection, of safety in his arms. I wish I could take it now with no consequence to either of us, but I know I can’t. Ours is a world where the choices have already been made and we can’t go back without risking us both.

  Yet, even with me fighting him every step of the way, he’s still here beside me, climbing the stairs to my apartment.

  I only speak two words before I walk through the door he’s holding open for me.

  “Thank you.”

  One fact remains after everything else settles. I will not let Cam or Sanda become collateral damage in the carnage of my life.

  * * *

  Sanda and Rachel skip ahead of us the entire way to school. I’ve never seen Sanda this happy. Cam went home to get some fresh clothes as long as I promised to stop by the studio and pick him up as soon as I’m done.

  I lied.

  “It’s my first day. My real first day! Can you believe it?” Sanda comes back, squeezes my hand, and giggles.

  “Yep. It’s real.” I smile, and Janice laughs next to me as Sanda skips up to link arms with Rachel.

  Rachel’s excited squeal can probably be heard a block in any direction. “I’m so excited! First days are the best.”

  “I want to walk home with you,” Sanda yells back to me. “You’ll be there to pick me up from school, right?”

  “Right.” My hands shake and my fingers slip as I struggle to bring the envelope out of my pocket and hold it in front of me. I’d mulled this over all night. Inside, it holds everything Janice will need if I ever stop coming home. The combination to my safe, a letter to Sanda, and instructions on what is in the safe and what to do with it. It’s a just-in-case plan, and I hope she never has to use it. Reaching out, I press the envelope into Janice’s hand.

  “What’s this?” She turns the envelope over, but it’s blank on both sides.

  “It’s for you. If anything ever happens to me, please open it.” I plaster a grin across my face when Sanda looks back at me again.

  “What do you mean ‘if anything happens to you’?” Taking her cues from me, Janice keeps smiling, too, but she grips the envelope anxiously.

  “The person who hurt Sanda is back. I’m going to find a way to stop him.” I hope this is enough explanation for Janice, because it’s the only one I am comfortable giving.

  There are a million reasons to go after Brothers. I’d been running and hiding since I left the attic. I don’t know if I can go back to that or force Sanda to live that way without losing the pieces of myself—the sanity, the security, the hope I’ve fought so hard to regain. On top of that is an intense desire to stop being a victim … to fight. Even if it’s the last thing I do, I must make certain the man who has spent the last year hurting Sanda will never have the chance to put those scars on any other child.

  Janice stares at me, biting her lip. She glances at the backs of the girls giggling in front of us. “Are you sure you don’t need help?”

  I shake my head, and my jaw tightens. “I don’t trust the police, and I’m afraid if I go to them and give them enough information to put him away they could take Sanda. We have too many secrets they could uncover, and this life would tumble down around us. Besides, you said it yourself, she’s better off with me. But I promise I won’t let him get to any of you. No matter what.”

  Janice stuffs the envelope in her massive purse but doesn’t speak again until we’re almost to the school. “Okay, but please be safe. She needs you more than you know.”

  “I promise.”

  * * *

  Child mayhem is the only way to describe the grassy area in front of the school. Kids are everywhere, running, playing, and giggling—so much joy. A boy with blond hair that hangs in his big blue eyes runs straight into my legs and I fight for control of my emotions. He grins up at me, and everything about him is so much like Sam, except the smile. Sam never smiled that wide. He never had a reason to.

  “Oops, sorry.” And then he’s gone, sprinting off after another boy toward the front doors of the school.

  Sanda tugs on my hand, and I remember why I’m here. I crouch down. Her fear is back as she watches all the other kids and flinches when one runs too close. “What if I’m scared now?”

  “It’s okay to be scared.” I remember something Nana used to whisper in my ear when she came to visit us in the attic. “You’re strong enough to be brave anyway. If you can do that, you can do anything.”

  Sanda looks around again and nods, but she’s still trembling. I reach in my pocket and pull out the bolt. I take one of her small hands and press the black metal against her palm. Her eyes get huge and she shakes her head.

  “No. This is—”

  I nod and gently squeeze her fingers shut. “It gave me what I needed already. When you’re afraid, squeeze it or rub it and remember everything we’ve survived. You are strong, Sanda. Don’t forget.”

  Her dark eyes blink up at me a few times before she sticks the bolt into her pocket. Then a shy smile spreads on her face. “I won’t. Thank you, Charlotte.”

  “Good.” I give her a quick hug. “Now, try to remember
everything that happens. I want to hear every detail after school.”

  “I’ll do my best.” She nods and yanks her purple backpack up on her shoulders.

  A small redheaded boy runs up to his mother on the sidewalk a few feet away and I hear her say, “Remember, don’t talk to strangers.”

  I know I’ll never have to remind Sanda of that.

  “One more thing,” I say, and her muscles tense as she waits, poised to sprint back home if I say the word. “Have fun, okay?”

  “We’re going to have the mostest fun ever!” Rachel yells as she comes over and grabs Sanda’s hand.

  They grin at each other for a moment and then Sanda turns to me. “I promise.”

  The bell rings and kids everywhere rush toward the front doors. Sanda waits as several run past her, but then she waves at me and follows Rachel toward the entrance. “Bye, Charlotte! See you after school!”

  25

  There are a few more people in the bar this time, but the moment Jim sees me, he grins and walks over.

  “Welcome back. Your friend beat you here. He’s in the arcade.”

  My eyes whip up and I see the “arcade” is a small area in the back with two nasty, beat-up games. Leaning against the wall in front of them is Cam. He is angrier than I’ve ever seen him when I cross the room and say with a sigh, “Why did you come?”

  “You promised you wouldn’t do this.” His arms are crossed over his chest, and he keeps squeezing his left forearm with his right hand like he desperately needs to crush something.

  “I lied.” I step closer because I see one guy at the nearest table who seems to find us more interesting than the soccer game he had been watching. “Please go home. I don’t want you here.”

  He doesn’t move a muscle but his smile is so dark it’s almost scary. “I am not letting you do this alone.”

  As much as I want him to go, to be safe, I can see that arguing this point isn’t getting me anywhere.

  “Okay.” I poke him in the chest with my finger. “But if you get hurt, I’m going to kill you.”

  His face breaks into a twisted grin and he nods. “Ditto.”

  As we walk back over to Jim, my eyes do a quick sweep of the room. The soccer fans in the back, three guys sitting alone at the bar, the same guy still passed out on the table in the corner—I’m beginning to wonder if he’s dead. “Is he here?”

  “Not sure.” Jim shrugs and begins wiping some water off the bar with a nearby towel. “Did you bring our friend Benjamin?”

  Pulling out the money, I place it on the bar with my hand over it and wait for Jim to answer my question.

  “Yeah, over there.” He inclines his head toward a guy with a white shirt and blue tie sitting at the other end of the bar. BRADY’S LOCK & KEY is embroidered in red on the pocket. He’s staring at the brown liquid in his glass with slightly bloodshot eyes, but still, he’s the last guy I would’ve picked as Brothers’s friend.

  “Name?” I don’t take my hand off the money.

  “Sean Brady.”

  “Thanks.” I stick my hands in my pockets and move down the bar.

  “Don’t be a stranger.” Jim doesn’t even glance at us as he slips the new bill into his pocket and walks over to wipe down the tables on the opposite end of the room.

  “I think we have a mutual friend,” I say, as I slide into the chair beside Brady and Cam stands behind us.

  “Doubt it,” Brady answers. As drunk as he appears, his response is swift, his tone aware. There’s also a hint of an accent to his voice, but I can’t place it.

  “I can make it worth your while to tell me where he’s been hiding and keep our visit between us.”

  “Doubt that, too.” He still hasn’t lifted his eyes from his glass. Back and forth, he swirls the ice in the cup one way and then swirls it the opposite direction.

  I turn toward Cam and he raises one eyebrow at me. When I nod, he sticks one finger inside the back of Brady’s tie and yanks it with one hand while pushing between the man’s shoulder blades with his other. I can tell immediately that Cam’s been holding out on me in our classes. He’s much stronger than I knew. Brady’s eyes bulge and he sputters at the sudden lack of oxygen. I check around the bar, but the only person paying attention is Jim, and when he sees me pivot to face him he quickly focuses his attention on the tabletop in front of him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to help her?” Cam’s voice is low and calm. Brady’s face reddens as he struggles to loosen the tie currently standing between himself and the rest of his life. Then Cam releases him. Brady coughs a few times before taking a swig of his drink.

  “Okay, okay. I don’t want trouble.” He spins on his barstool, seeming uncomfortable at having Cam where he can’t see him. “He didn’t mention your bodyguard, sheesh.”

  His words slow down time as I meet Cam’s eyes and see his teeth grind together. I close my eyelids tight before asking, “Who didn’t mention?”

  “Steve Brothers.” He watches me carefully when I reopen my eyes, a strange expression on his face—something between fear and satisfaction.

  “He knew I would come.” My words are almost a whisper as the implications sink in. Brothers is so much like the Father. Too smart, too much enjoyment drawn from my fear and pain.

  Cam frowns, picks up the end of Brady’s tie, and pinches it between two fingers. The man jerks it free and holds up his hands, cowering behind them.

  “I’m only the messenger.” Brady waits for Cam to lower his hands back to his sides before reaching in his pocket and pulling out a phone. “He asked me to give you this.”

  Cam extends a hand, but Brady tucks the phone against his chest. “No. He said it’s for her.”

  I try to read the intentions behind the bloodshot eyes, but the only thing I can tell for sure is that focusing on me is a struggle. “Why would I want to take that phone?”

  “I don’t know. You said you were looking for him. Maybe this is how you do it.” He swallows and his gaze darts between us. “Brothers is nothing to me. And you can bet I won’t be doing him any more favors.”

  I feel unsteady and unsure. Brothers keeps outmaneuvering me. Toying with me, pulling my strings like the puppet in my closet. Each move he makes twists me up further, binding me until he feels like playing again. There are so many things wrong with this, but I might have to play along for a while. Holding out my hand, I wait as Brady places the phone in my palm and releases a breath thick with the smell of alcohol.

  “Now, why don’t you two go away so I can enjoy my drink in peace?” Brady sags over his cup and begins swirling it back and forth without another look in our direction.

  Cam and I walk in silence halfway back to the apartment. My mind is going over and over every box Brothers left, every message, trying to make any sense of it. “I know your secret.” “Safety is illusion.” “No more hiding.” And then he builds me a torture closet and leaves me a phone. One grim fact is undeniable: he knew I had come to the bar before. He’s obviously been watching even closer than I thought.

  Why doesn’t he corner me, kill me, take Sanda and get his revenge? I know the answer even if I wish I didn’t. He wants something more from me. Something I won’t give him, but I don’t think he’ll leave me alone until he gets it. Brothers has proven he’s nothing if not persistent.

  “I think you should give it to me.” Cam’s voice is strained.

  “You weren’t even supposed to be there.”

  “I might be able to get some information from it. See if he’s made any calls on it. Stuff like that.”

  I flip open the phone and go to call history. Even I’ve spent enough time with my phone to understand the basic menu. When I tuck it in my pocket, it’s like an anchor dragging me down, one more string tying me to Brothers. “Nothing. And I’m keeping the phone.”

  His jaw flexes and he stares hard into my eyes. “Fine. Then after I grab some extra clothes, I’m staying at your apartment indefinitely. Until that phone rings I’m not leav
ing your side.”

  I can see it’s useless to fight him on this. Besides, for right now, we’re probably both safer together. “Fine.”

  * * *

  Cam ran to Jessie’s in total frustration when I refused to go with him. I’d watched him jog down the street from my window, even his stride looking angry. I wish he’d stay away, stay safe, but at the same time I’m glad he’s hurrying. I hate being this powerless and alone. Brothers has me cornered. My only idea to find him didn’t exactly play out the way I’d hoped. I can’t seem to get warm and no matter where I stand in the apartment, it seems like Brothers’s phone is watching me.

  I wrap up in my heating blanket in the hopes that it will stop my shivering. As I finally start to feel normal, the new phone rings and I’m cold again. All the way down through my bones. I lift it off the dresser with shaking hands. Opening it, I can’t think of any greeting that I want to say, so I just listen. Slow breathing and a soft chuckle come through the line before he speaks.

  “I’m glad you got my gift.” The voice is so slick it almost sounds wet.

  “What do you want?”

  “So direct. One of the things I like most about you.” He speaks each word slowly, almost lazily. It makes me want to scream. “You always get right to the point.”

  “Answer my question.” I force in deep slow breaths.

  “I want you to pay, Piper. Or is it pay the piper? So confusing,” he says with a laugh.

  My whole body tightens, but I fight to remain calm. I breathe slowly in and back out. I can’t let him know how much he scares me. “Why do you call me that?”

  “Because it’s your name.”

  “I know it’s my name. How do you know it’s my name?” I wait, but the only response is silence. “Fine, but I want something, too.”

  “Do tell.” He breathes heavily into the receiver and I’m nauseated.

  “I want you to leave Sanda alone.”

  “Okay.”

  I sit down on the edge of the bed, my mind struggling to piece together whatever I’m missing. I repeat, “Okay?”