Savage

by Kade, Teagan

  I remember. “It’s Geena. We have a weekly movie night.”

  “Send her away,” he says.

  “It will look suspicious,” I retort.

  He closes his eyes and rocks his head back. “Alright, let her in, but any funny business and we’re going to have a problem, yes?”

  “Yes,” I reply meekly, lifting myself from the sofa and drifting to the door.

  I paste on a smile when I answer it. “Geena, hi.”

  She looks past me, a customary block of chocolate in hand. “I hope I’m not intruding, but we did say…”

  “’Rain, hail or shine.’ I remember.”

  She offers the chocolate.

  I take it. “Come on in.”

  I follow her into the living room where Ian’s busy shuffling through papers.

  Geena looks to me before putting on a smile. “Ah, hi there. I’m Geena.”

  Ian looks up, looks at Geena like she’s a cut of meat. “The infamous Geena.”

  Geena appears slightly chuffed, not quite sure how to respond. “I didn’t know my reputation proceeded me.”

  Ian simply returns his papers with a snide “Hmm.”

  “Anyway,” I cut in, standing between them, “don’t worry about Grumpy Pants over there. You grab a seat and I’ll rustle up some drinks.”

  “Make mine a double, won’t you, babycakes?” says Ian, smiling.

  I want to give him a double alright—a double tap right to the back of the head, but I hold myself together and fix the drinks.

  I hear Geena try to make conversation, but all she gets in response are grunts or sarcasm, and that’s before she starts Ian on what he thinks of the town.

  He puts his papers down. “What do I think?” he laughs. “I think this whole shitty place would be better burnt to the fucking ground.”

  “Right,” says Geena, inching away and bringing her arms tight to her sides.

  I arrive with the drinks and give Ian the death stare, quickly putting on the movie to avoid any further embarrassment.

  Ian settles back while the movie plays. I place myself between him and Geena well aware of the heightened tension in the room. It’s like sitting in on someone diffusing a bomb.

  Jennifer Garner is laughing on screen in 13 Going On 30, but the mood in the room is far from jovial. Ian’s quick to make his feelings about the film known.

  “What the fuck is this shit?” he exclaims, draining his tumbler of whiskey. “I bet that’s not even her real ass.”

  “Honey.” I smile, trying desperately to make that poisonous word sound natural. “Quiet please.”

  “Garner’s tits,” Ian goes on, “A-plus, but as for that face… I’d rather fuck a baboon.”

  Geena, something of a closet feminist, takes serious offence to that. She leans past me. “Are you being serious right now? Sorry, Lex, but he’s out of line.”

  “I’m out of line,” laughs Ian, pointing to himself with the tumbler, “why don’t you do yourself and this whole town a favor and go fix those teeth of yours, huh? I could drive a bus through that gap.”

  Geena stands up, mortified.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s the way,” continues Ian. “Get back to your hick cabin and your shitty, nowhere life, Big Tits.”

  I get up and try to apologize, but Geena’s already at the door. I catch her just before she goes through it. “Geena, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  She wipes away a tear. “What’s going on, Lex? Tell me.”

  I close the door, resisting the urge to spill everything but knowing it wouldn’t do any good. “Nothing.”

  She shakes her head and walks away. “I’ll see you around.”

  “Geena!” I call, but she’s headed down the stairwell. I hear her car start, screech out of the parking lot.

  Great. Just freakin’ great.

  I enter the apartment furious, standing in front of the TV. “What the hell was that? You’re undoing everything I’ve done here.”

  Ian stands up, stepping until he’s only a foot away. “Really? Because it looks to me like you’re doing jack shit on my dime. You think these people are your friends? Think again. I am in control here. You’ll do what I say and you’ll do it with a smile on your face or so help me god you’ll wish you were never born.”

  “You can’t threaten me.”

  He takes another step until we’re eye to eye. “I can and I will to get. What. I. Need. Done,” he enunciates. “If you want to stand in my way, fine, but don’t expect to be there in the morning.” He throws his tumbler at the wall where it shatters, the remaining whiskey dripping down the wallpaper. He stalks off to the spare room, sniffing and I finally realize just how deep in this mess I am. There’s not a shovel in the world big enough to dig me out.

  *

  I go down to Gracie’s first thing to find Geena. She’s stacking crates around back, looking away when I approach.

  I stop with my hands in my pockets. “Geena,” I start, “please.”

  She huffs and straightens up, her hair in a ponytail and her shirt pulled into a tight knot just below her cleavage. “There’s nothing you can say, Lex.”

  “I can apologize.”

  “For that creep you’re living with? You heard him. How can you put up with that?”

  “He’s going through a rough patch.” I want to strangle myself at the words coming out of my mouth. It makes me sick defending him.

  Geena shakes her head. “You know what really gets to me, though? You didn’t even tell me you were engaged.”

  “I wanted to. I was just waiting for the right moment.”

  Geena’s eyes are glossy. She’s genuinely hurt. “I thought we were friends, I really did, but I’m starting to realize I don’t know you at all.”

  She walks away and I let her, unsure what to say because, hate it as I might, she’s speaking the god honest truth.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  DEX

  “Daddy!” I place Talisa down to go running to her dad.

  Dean scoops her. “Ready to meet your little brother?”

  Talisa gives an approving nod of her head, her pigtails swishing past her ears.

  Dean claps me on the shoulder. “You did it, brother. Come on,” he says, “I’ve got someone for you to meet.”

  Ava’s sitting upright in the hospital bed when I enter the room. She’s sipping down an apple juice like it’s the last left on earth, waving to me. I wave back.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy Daycare.”

  I turn to find Deric approaching me from the corner of the room. Edie’s there too coochie-cooing at what I’m pretty sure is the new man of the moment.

  Deric embraces me, holding me away from himself. “Shit. You haven’t changed a bit.”

  I circle his face with my finger. “Is that a fucking tan?”

  “It’s the holiday glow, brother,” he smiles.

  I move over to greet Edie who’s also looking suitably sun-kissed. “I thought you guys weren’t getting back until tomorrow?”

  “We caught an earlier flight,” says Deric. “There’s only so much sun and sex a man can take.”

  “Why, you find yourself a nice pool-boy over there?” jokes Dean.

  Deric throws a box of latex gloves at him.

  “Easy,” says Edie, shielding the baby, “precious cargo here.”

  I take a moment to look down into the bundle of blankets she’s holding. Tucked in there is a tiny face that looks none too happy about finally being out in the world.

  “Tiberius,” says Ava.

  I turn to the bed. “Sorry?”

  “His name,” she says. “He’s Tiberius.”

  I have to admit I was not expecting that, but hey, to each their own. “Ah, cool,” I reply, “how very Gladiator.”

  Dean shoves me from the back, everyone cracking up. “Fuck, man, as if we’d do that to the poor kid.”

  I’m confused as fuck. “So, his name’s not Tiberius?”

  A
nd that just starts the laughter all over again. Edie almost drops the baby she’s chuckling so hard.

  “Ty,” says Dean, reaching out to take hold of the baby.

  “Ty-ler,” corrects Ava.

  I exhale, reaching up to my chest. “You had me worried there for a second.”

  Eventually it’s my turn to hold the baby. His little hands come from out of the blankets, grasping at the air for what I have no idea, but he’s a cute lil’ fucker. If he’s anything like his dad, the girls of Hell’s Bitters are going to go crazy over him. I see Ava in him, too, in the shape of his chin and nose.

  I don’t know why, but I immediately think of Lexi.

  I snap out of my daydream when Dean mentions the West Group.

  Dean’s sitting in a chair beside the bed, Edie and Deric against the wall.

  “Look,” says Deric, business mode activated. “I’ve been holding off on any further discussion until I got back.” He gestures to me. “I know how you feel about it too, Dex, so don’t think I’m not taking everything into account, but this last day or two I’m getting emails, calls… For some reason these guys have suddenly got really aggressive about it all. To be honest, it’s sort of rubbing me the wrong way.”

  “You’ve got Edie the right way,” laughs Dean, which is met by a slap to the back of the head from Ava.

  “Anyhow,” continues Deric, “I say we hold off from accepting any offers for the time being until we’ve had more time to work this through. What do you say?”

  “Amen,” replies Dean.

  ‘Sure,” I reply, silently relieved.

  The conversation turns to the baby, the inevitable labor story starting to unfold.

  “I thought you could handle a bit of blood,” says Deric.

  “A bit?” laughs Dean. “This time it was like the gates of hell had opened.”

  Ava slaps him again. “Hey, that’s my vagina you’re talking about, mister. If you ever want into it again you better be treating it with a bit more respect.”

  Dean takes her hand, kissing the top of it. “Whatever you say, baby,” he says winking at me in the process.

  “You got a second to step outside?”

  I look up to find Edie beside me, flicking her eyes towards the hall.

  “Sure.” I stand and excuse myself.

  Edie closes the door once we’re outside. She looks serious.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Is it Deric? Because we’re cool. No hard feelings.”

  “Deric’s fine. It’s your friend I want to talk about.”

  For a second I’m clueless. I look back into the room through the window in the door. “Which one? They’re all gathered in there.”

  “Lexi Shane,” she clarifies, “or should I say ‘Allie Smith.’”

  “Allie?” I stammer. “What are you talking about?”

  Edie moves a closer to me. “I thought the whole thing with Lexi was weird. I don’t know. Call it professional instinct. Anyhow, I did a bit more digging, and you know what? There is no such person as Lexi Shane. She doesn’t exist.”

  Now I’m seriously confused. “What do you mean she doesn’t exist? I saw her an hour ago, at the café?”

  “I ran facial recognition on a photo of her and got a match. Her real name’s Allie Smith and she’s done a pretty damn good job of covering her tracks.”

  It’s like I’ve been hit by a wrecking ball. “I don’t understand. Why? Why would she lie about who she is?”

  Edie reaches into her handbag and takes out a manila folder. “I really shouldn’t be doing this, but here. I haven’t read it and I don’t feel like it’s any of my business, but I thought you’d want all the facts.”

  I take the file completely outside of my body, going through the motion of reaching and applying pressure with my fingers, the weight of the file forcing my hand down.

  “You don’t need to read it either if you don’t want to,” continues Edie, crouching to look into my eyes. “I can have it destroyed, shredded, whatever you want, but I figured you deserved to know the truth.”

  “Thanks,” I reply numbly, looking down at the folder.

  Edie reaches out and places her hand on my shoulder. “It’s a lot to take in. Are you okay?”

  I’m still waiting for her to tell me this is a joke, an elaborate plan hatched by the Devils, but I know this is real. Edie wouldn’t joke about something like this. “I will be,” I reply, as soon as I get to the bottom of this clusterfuck.

  *

  I drive straight to the Den and immediately open the file on my desk. Edie’s right. She could get into serious shit for providing this to me, but that’s who she is—always looking out for others.

  As for Lexi…

  I take the first leaf of paper and study it. The picture at the top confirms it. She’s younger, but there’s no doubting it.

  Holy shit.

  It’s not pretty.

  Allie Smith is nothing like the friendly, warm, small-town sweetheart I’ve come to know. She was abandoned as a baby in an alleyway and taken in by foster parents, bouncing from family to family as time went on.

  Notes on her schooling follow. Somehow she managed to earn a scholarship to a WASP-y school not far from New York, basically an A-grade student with high marks in computing and math. There’s a blank period following that and little else as far as any sort of steady job or employment is concerned.

  I read through the rest with mixed emotions. I feel some sympathy over her upbringing. At least my mother left me in a home, not an alley.

  I move onto the Child Services caseworker’s notes about a spate of bullying and the resulting counselling Allie went through because of it. But it’s the next few pages that are truly alarming.

  They detail her implication in a number of corporate espionage cases. Shady activities are outlined in detail, the scant evidence collected against her. Instead of providing closure, all I’m left with are more questions. Why here? Why Tamanass? A small town of three-thousand in the sticks? It makes no sense.

  West Group.

  The words jump off the page. I read on. She’s been linked to the company, tied to cases but no indictment made, no investigation drawing a solid connection.

  I close the file and push it off the desk, standing so fast the chair kicks back to the floor.

  I pace around the Den with my hands on my head angry and confused, but one thing is clear.

  I was right not to trust her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  LEXI

  The last place I want to be is the Ranger’s station, but Ian was adamant there was to be no change in routine, nothing to arouse further suspicion.

  I’m always the first to arrive in the morning, which is why the lone truck parked out front is curious, less so when I realize it belongs to Dex.

  He’s standing out the front of the office with something in his hand, a folder.

  I approach him slowly unsure where this is going but pretty damn positive it’s nowhere good.

  He holds the folder up. “Do you know what this is?”

  I stop a short distance from him. “No.”

  He slaps it with his hand. “This is you.”

  I’m not following. “Dex, I’m sorry, but—”

  “No!” he shouts, clearly angry, slapping the folder again. “I’m fucking done with apologies and half-truths, all these lies. I know who you are, who you really are.”

  I’m overcome by a strong instinct to turn and run, but I remain fixed to the spot. I have to know. “What do you mean, Dex?”

  He’s shaking his head, looking up at the sky. “I know your real name is Allie Smith, for one.”

  I try not to let the surprise show even though it’s like a grenade’s gone off under my feet.

  “I know you were abandoned as a baby, kicked from foster home to foster home, that you probably felt abandoned and unloved. I know you’re smart, far smarter than any of us, but the game is up.”

  He’s walking towards me.

&nbs
p; I don’t know how to reply. I don’t even know how he figured this all out.

  “You never felt like you belonged, did you?”

  A renegade tear runs down my cheek. “No.”

  I don’t know why I’m falling apart, why now my body chooses its moment to betray me when I should be strongest, denying every allegation, using the carefully prepared cover story and outs I know I could spin.

  I can’t do it to him. Staring into his eyes, only a few feet away, I cannot abandon this person I’ve become. This identity I’ve assumed is feeling far more like the real me, the person I want to be, than any identity I’ve assumed before. Dex is right. I’ve never once felt like I belonged… until here, until now.

  I can see Dex fighting off his own emotion.

  It kills me to see him this way, such a strong man brought down by my own deception.

  “Just tell me,” he says. “Was everything a lie?”

  I consider how to reply. I wipe away another tear with my sleeve. “No, of course not. Everything I said about myself, about who I really am, that’s true.”

  He’s shaking his head again. “How could I possibly believe you?”

  “Do you know what they used to call me at school?” I say. “What those preppy private-school bitches used to say? They called me ‘Alley Trash.’” I wipe my eyes again, the hurt now as real as it was all those years ago. “No prizes for guessing why, but I got them back. Instead of a social life, instead of planning prom I was learning how to hack and phreak, even made a nice business out of digging up dirt on my fellow classmates.

  “Wait,” he says, but I go on.

  “I couldn’t afford morals,” talking more to myself than Dex, “so I found a way to leverage my skills and make a stable life for myself. I’ve become good at discarding my conscience, I suppose, at becoming different people. I figure I’m only cheating people who have done their fair share of evil deeds. That’s how I justify what I do, or did.”

  I can’t read Dex. “And your fiancé?”

  This question I’m happy to answer, a weight lifting from my chest. “He’s not my fiancé, thank God.”

  Dex holds the bridge of his nose continuing to shake his head. “Again, what do I believe?”

  I know this is the moment of truth—literally. What I’m doing right here is going to determine everything that is to come. I either start anew or say goodbye to Dex and Tamanass forever.