Bittersweet Chronicles: Pax

by Selena Laurence

  She laughs. “But in lieu of that, I want to be a social worker in the foster care system. No one ever took me away from my dad. I was too careful for that. I never let on to teachers or coaches that things were as bad as they were at my house. But if someone had known, I would like to think that they would have cared enough to get me help, to place me in a home where there was the kind of love I can hear in your voice when you talk about your family.”

  I’m struck, as I have been more and more these last two years, by just how fortunate I’ve been in my life. And not because my parents are wealthy or famous, but because they love me. They love me enough to let me go when I said that I needed to. They love me enough to keep hope that I’ll eventually come back to them. I just wish that the love could be separate from the rest—the expectations of others, the name, the fame, the melding of Pax and Walsh.

  Carly looks me in the eyes. “I’m so sorry I got you mixed up in this,” she says.

  “What? You didn’t get me mixed up in this at all. This bastard who’s after you pulled me into it, and that’s fine because you don’t deserve to face him alone. Also, Vaughn’s one of my oldest, closest friends and I’d do pretty much anything for him and his.”

  “You’re too nice, Pax.”

  “I don’t mind—“

  “No. I’m being serious. You’re too nice. People are going to take advantage of that. You’re too good. Too perfect and gentlemanly and”—she flaps her hand around as if she doesn’t know what other words to use—too nice.”

  This isn’t the first time someone’s said the same thing to me, but for some reason, coming from Carly, it hurts. A lot.

  “You didn’t seem to think I was too nice back at my condo,” I shoot back at her, sounding petty, which is not what I intended.

  Her face crumples for a moment, and I realize that she’s delicate, this girl. “I take it back,” she replies all heat and bluster. “You’re kind of an ass.” She stands and stomps off to the other side of the room. It’s about three of her little stomps wide.

  I sigh, running a hand through my hair, trying to get my Zen back. “Sorry,” I mumble.

  “Excuse me?” she asks, her arms folded and her face turned away from me. She’s like a mad toddler.

  Why do I find that so attractive?

  “I said, ‘I’m sorry.’ I didn’t mean that. I’m kind of defensive about the ‘nice’ thing. It’s something I’ve heard my whole life. I’m too nice, too good, too perfect. It’s not true. I’m just me. I have plenty of faults and vices, just like anyone.”

  “Okay. I get that.” Her voice is soft, and I realize that, even though she hardly shows it, she’s scared.

  I am too, but for her sake, I won’t admit that.

  “Carly? I am a nice guy, but I’m also a smart one, and I’m not so nice that I won’t take a piece out of someone if they’re dangerous. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?” I think I might, in fact, devote myself to making sure nothing bad happens to her. I can think of worse ways to spend my time.

  “I can take care of myself.” Her words are tough—her voice isn’t.

  “You’ve had to do a lot of that, I’m guessing.” I stand up and brush my sweats off.

  It occurs to me that I’m glad I was sleeping on the sofa when all of this went down. If I’d been in my own bed, I’d have gotten kidnapped without a stitch on. That would have been awkward.

  Before my imagination can follow that one to some unpleasant conclusions, I hear voices from outside the door. I leap across the small space and throw myself in front of Carly, backing us both against the wall.

  The door flies open, slamming against the wall as the asshole I’ve been sparring with off and on for the last week strolls in, flooding the space with light from the hallway.

  “Well, looks like wonder boy woke up. Guess I didn’t hit him hard enough.” He chuckles, and his sidekick, the same guy Vaughn threw down with at Carly’s dorm mutters something foul.

  I cross my arms in front of me, pressing back against Carly, who is trying to either peer around me or wiggle out of the little cage I’ve trapped her in. I’m a lot taller, so she’s not having much luck.

  “Let’s get down to business,” I say, my voice reverberating in the small room. “Your boss thinks Carly’s responsible for her old man’s debts. I disagree, but I’m tired of the hassle. I’ll pay it back. I just need access to a phone and a few hours for the transfer to come through.”

  This isn’t how I envisioned the whole thing when I offered to pay off Carly’s debt. I thought I’d give the money to Vaughn and he’d be the one to take care of the handoff. It would make sense—he’s her family, and it’s logical that a family member would come to town and help her out. It also made sense to keep me anonymous, because if these guys know who I am, they might decide I’m a lot more valuable than Carly. But now, I’m forced to be directly involved in the money transfer—something I hope I won’t regret.

  I was seven the first time I realized that my family wasn’t like everyone else’s. Around Portland, the guys of Lush and their families were a pretty common sight, so we didn’t get too much unwanted attention. But when Portland became even more crowded, overtaking Seattle as the crown jewel of the Northwest, there were more and more tourists, more and more newcomers, more and more people who didn’t understand that Portland was Lush’s haven, the place where my dad and his best friends could be themselves, have normal lives, and make the music they loved.

  Sometime early in second grade, I was out with my dad at a game arcade. My little sister wasn’t even two yet, and she still took up a lot of my mom’s time, so every couple of weeks, Dad would grab me and we’d head out for the afternoon, just the two of us. We’d do all kinds of stuff—go to Studio B and play with the equipment, hit up an arcade, go skating at one of the year-round ice rinks. But no matter what we did, it was always my favorite kind of day. Because I loved my mom and my sister, but Dad was my best friend.

  This particular day at the arcade, I’d become fascinated with skee ball. No matter what other games Dad suggested, I wouldn’t leave that skee ball game.

  “Pax,” he said, after a couple of hours of it, “I’m glad you love that so much, but little dude, we have to get home before your mom sends Uncle Joss out after us.”

  Just then, a big guy with a beard and a baseball cap pulled down low stepped between Dad and me.

  “Joss, huh?” he said, his voice sounding raspy. “I was right, then. You are Walsh Clark—big, fancy, rich rock star, yeah?”

  I looked around the strange man and saw Dad glance at me. I knew by the look on his face that something wasn’t quite right.

  “Yeah, man. I’m Walsh,” he said, giving the guy a tight smile.

  The man reached behind him and put a hand on my shoulder before he pulled me out to stand next to him. His hand squeezed my shoulder a little too tight, and I squirmed, trying to get free.

  “And this must be your kid,” he said, looking down at me with a menacing grin.

  “Hey,” my dad said, reaching into his back pocket. “Can I buy you a beer, maybe some lunch?” He pulled his wallet out and opened it up, showing the guy the money that was inside.

  I noticed that he kept looking at the guy’s other hand. Not the one that tightened further on my shoulder until I muttered, “Ouch.”

  “Pax?” Dad said, glaring at the guy. “You okay there, buddy?”

  I swallowed and nodded, wondering why Dad didn’t just tell this bad man to quit touching me.

  “Seriously, man,” Dad said, removing all of his cash and holding it out. “Just take it. There are way too many people around, you won’t get far, and I don’t think you want to hurt him.”

  The guy looked at me. I scowled at him. Then he grabbed at the money but didn’t let me go.

  “I’ll find you again if you try to stop me,” he growled before he shoved me away and started running through the place, slamming into people as he went.

  Dad grabb
ed me before I could fall and wrapped me in his arms. “Oh my God,” he whispered. “God, Pax, I’m so sorry, buddy. Oh my God. I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay, Dad. I’m okay. But who was that man?”

  “Come here, little dude.” He lifted me off the ground and moved at the speed of light to the main counter where the arcade workers were.

  Within a few minutes, there were police crawling through the place and Dad was sitting in a back room with me on his lap, telling the story to a guy who’d said that he was a police detective. I still didn’t know everything that had happened, but I did hear my dad say the man had had a gun. The next thing I knew, Uncle Joss was there with Ethan and some more of the security guys Lush used when they had concerts at the big venues. The security guys took us home, where Aunt Mel and Mom were waiting, and there was a lot of crying and people kissing me.

  It was lucky that the only attempt to kidnap me was made by a mentally unbalanced dude who hadn’t planned the damn thing at all. The police caught him within a couple of hours, and he was prosecuted for attempted kidnapping, possession of an illegal weapon, and some other minor offenses. But it changed my parents’ outlook on our safety in Portland. It made them realize that, while it might be their hometown, they weren’t just Tammy and Walsh anymore.

  Money changes everything, and now, I’m admitting I have access to a great deal of it. Admitting it to the kind of guy who won’t hesitate to use that fact against me in any way he can.

  Asshole raises his eyebrows and smirks as he glances at his buddy. “Well, well, well. Mr. Lagazo will be interested in this new twist. Found yourself a sugar daddy, have you, Carly?” he asks, looking at my left shoulder, where I assume Carly is peeking out.

  In all of her maneuvering to see around me, her hands have landed on my waist, and I feel her fingers tense as he addresses her. He shouldn’t be allowed to look at her, much less speak to her, and it takes every bit of patience I can muster to keep from flying at him with both fists cocked.

  “Think of me as her agent,” I growl. “And address your remarks to me, not my client.”

  “Yeah.” He snorts. “Whatever. Let’s go. You can list your client’s demands to Mr. Lagazo himself.” He and Sidekick bust out laughing as they move into the hall and gesture for us to follow them.

  Once we’re out of the closet, Sidekick leads the way with my least favorite man at our backs. I make sure to keep Carly in front of me, my hand resting on her hip. I feel like I need to stay in physical contact with her. I hate the idea of these guys anywhere near her.

  As we leave the small hallway, I find that Carly was right—we’re in a warehouse. The main area is full of wood crates that I’m guessing are not boxes of toys for needy kids. Judging by the size and shape of them, some are guns. I can’t tell what the others are, but I sure wouldn’t be surprised to open one and find drugs.

  We’re escorted to the far side of the room where a middle-aged guy in shirtsleeves and cheap, gray slacks is standing, talking on a cell phone while a couple of other minions lounge around smoking. As we get near, dude on the phone, who must be Lagazo, points to the door, and the two jerks with us peel off and leave the building.

  I try to maneuver in front of Carly, but she’s wise to my tricks now and moves just as quickly to cut me off. Her little hip is jutted out in front of me, and we’re about to get into a wrestling match over who’s in the position of prominence when I solve the problem by grabbing her hand and jerking her over to my side. Then I throw my arm around her shoulders, pulling her against me.

  I hear her hiss out a breath just as Lagazo ends his call. She freezes, and I’m grateful that I have her pinned to me. It’s where I plan to keep her no matter what these guys think they’re doing.

  “Carly,” Lagazo rumbles in an unmistakable New Jersey accent. I feel like I’ve fallen into an episode of that old show the Sopranos. “You’ve been giving Martin and Nicky a hard time. That’s not so nice. I thought your old man taught you better.”

  The dude has yet to acknowledge me, but I have no intention of being ignored, so before Carly can respond, I speak up. “I told your guys that I have the money to pay off whatever it is you think Carly owes you. I just need to make a phone call and the money will be transferred in a few hours.”

  Lagazo examines me, a look bordering disgust on his face. “And who, exactly, are you?”

  “My name’s Pax and I’m a friend of Carly’s family.”

  “Pax.” His voice is emotionless as he says my name. “You really think you can have one hundred K to me in the next few hours?”

  “Yeah, I can.”

  “And if I say that won’t cover Carly’s debt?”

  Carly tenses at my side, and I rub a thumb along her shoulder, feeling the smooth skin there under the edge of her T-shirt sleeve.

  “Why don’t you explain that to me,” I answer, noticing the minions smirking behind Lagazo.

  He steps forward, coming almost nose-to-nose with me. He’s not as tall as I am, and he’s a few decades older, but that doesn’t seem to faze him. He’s tough as hell, and I imagine he fights damn dirty.

  “I don’t explain myself to punks with rich daddies,” he snarls.

  I’m about to say something far less polite than what I’ve said so far, but Carly must sense it and interrupts me.

  “Mr. Lagazo. I’ve told your guys—my dad didn’t leave me a thing. Honest. I had to borrow money from my aunt to pay for his funeral.”

  He looks her up and down, a disgusting leer on his face. My fingers on her shoulder tighten, and I hear her squeak as if I’ve hurt her.

  “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “But see, little girl, it’s not that I don’t believe you, just that it doesn’t matter. You still owe, and now, you owe more because of the trouble you’ve caused me. I’m running a business here, and when you force my guys to chase you all over town for days, that’s an expense. When you make us take a risk like grabbing you out of some chump’s house in the middle of the night, that’s a cost.”

  He keeps talking to her, but he looks at me, his lip curled up on one side. “These kinds of costs can’t be put into dollars, Carly.” He grins, walking away from us and then pausing before turning back. “The only way you can repay this debt now is to go to work for me.”

  “Oh hell no,” I say before Carly can answer.

  The mere thought of her up in front of all those dirty, old men has my blood boiling. An image of us touching at my condo flashes through my mind and the one thing I feel is ‘I’m not sharing’. She might not know it yet, but when all of this is over, she and I are going to spend some time together—quality time, time without so many clothes.

  Lagazo raises an eyebrow at me before jerking his head at one of the minions nearby. The big guy lumbers over and pulls out a gun, which he lodges between a couple of my ribs. It’s not too comfortable, and I hear Carly’s quick intake of breath. It matches the sharp throb of my heart, which is now in my throat.

  “Maybe I haven’t made myself clear enough, son,” Lagazo growls. “You’re not in a position of power here. Carly will do what I say when I say to do it, and you don’t have any choice in the matter.”

  This is the moment at which a smarter guy might shut the hell up and just let things play out, but I can’t. I’ve never been able to stand by and let things happen. It’s just not who I am.

  “You may have the guns, but I can promise you, if something happens to me, there will be things raining down on your head that you can’t even imagine. I am a rich guy’s son, and more than that, I’m a rich guy’s very well-loved son. If you hurt me, or any of my friends, my family will hunt you down. They’ll never stop, I promise you that. And they aren’t just rich. They have connections to anyone and anywhere they need.”

  It’s all true, and maybe that’s why Lagazo seems to take it seriously. He’s not scared, but he does seem thoughtful, and he calls off the gun-toting freak at my side.

  “Well, we seem to be at an impa
sse here. I can’t put a dollar amount to what charming Carly has cost me. But I am willing to propose a compromise.”

  I nod at him, but my heart is racing in fear of what he might suggest.

  “What is it?” Carly asks, her voice trembling a bit.

  “If Carly doesn’t work for me, you’ll need to.” He looks pointedly at me.

  Carly shivers under my arm, and I open my mouth to protest yet again.

  “Hold on there, Romeo,” Lagazo says, putting a finger up.

  I clamp my mouth shut.

  “You want to protect the girl or not?” He smirks. “I have some extra errands that need to be run—some trips up to Birmingham, some local stuff. My guys have other things to keep busy. You’ll do just fine. I get you for thirty days.”

  “No way—” Carly interjects.

  “Deal,” I say, putting out my hand to Lagazo.

  “What? Pax, are you crazy?” she squawks at me, her eyes wide in disbelief.

  “Carly,” I grit between my teeth. “Just be grateful that the man is willing to compromise with us. We don’t have much of a position to negotiate from here.”

  All that keeps cycling through my head is that I’ll do anything to keep Carly from working in a strip club. Somewhere deep inside, I know that this is a huge mistake, but I just can’t bear the idea of her being humiliated like that. If someone has to be destroyed over this, better me than her.

  “Smart boy.” Lagazo grins. “I’ll also need some extra cash to offset the loss of Carly’s assets in the club.”

  My stomach churns. “How much?”

  “I think twenty K ought to do it. That’s in addition to the original one hundred.”

  “Fine.” I try hard to keep my voice steady. “I’ll have it to you in twenty-four hours.”

  Lagazo smiles. “Well son, looks like you got yourself a deal. Boys, take Carly and her friend here home. And make sure he has Nicky’s number so he can call in to get his assignments.” He looks me over one last time. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “This oughta be fun.”

  **

  By the time we get back to my house, Vaughn is halfway to crazy town. I scowl at the broken lock on my front door as I walk in.