Bittersweet Chronicles: Pax

by Selena Laurence

  As if someone took a Karmic vacuum and sucked the very soul out of her, Carly drains. The color from her face, the steel from her spine, the love from her eyes. She drains of everything that makes her Carly, and it happens right before my eyes.

  We stand for a beat, watching each other, and then she releases a breath, the final essence of her dissipating into the damp air of my apartment.

  “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice stilted and hollow. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’ll be out of your place in just a few minutes. And don’t worry about your deal with Lagazo. I’ll get the money back. You’re off the hook.”

  She strides toward the bedroom, determination written all over her body.

  “Carly,” I call out, reaching for her even though she’s long gone.

  Just then, the front door opens and in walks Vaughn.

  “Hey, cuz,” he says as she passes him on her way to the bedrooms.

  She stops and whispers something to him. I see his eyes dart to me and his expression turns grim.

  “Okay,” he mutters. “If you’re sure.”

  She nods her head and then continues to the bedroom. Vaughn looks at me, concern and questions written all over his face. I can’t deal with him. Not now. So I turn and walk out the back door, onto the sand, and down the beach.

  It’s nearly midnight when I slide the glass door on my patio aside and try to silently slip into my own home. Before I’ve even cleared the threshold, Vaughn is up off the sofa, staring at me in the moonlight, big and so pissed that I can feel the heat coming off him even from across the room.

  “Hey,” I mutter as I close the door and awkwardly face him, the couch between us.

  “What the hell, Pax?” he snarls. “What the hell was all that about? I leave for a few hours and come back to Carly looking more lost than she ever did when her dad died. She wouldn’t tell me a damn thing, but she packed up all her shit, told me she’d made arrangements with Lagazo to clear this whole thing up, and had me drop her at the dorms. I almost called the cops to come help me with her, but I realized that there wasn’t anything they could do if an adult wanted to go live at her own place.”

  I run a hand through my hair, my heart beating double time, while my head pulses in sharp waves of pain. “It’s complicated, man.”

  Vaughn strides around the sofa, stopping in front of me. He’s very close to the same size I am, and I know that, if he decides to deck me, it’s not going to be pretty.

  “It’s complicated? You’ve got to be kidding me, Pax. I gave you my blessing. Told you to go ahead and start a thing with my baby cousin. You knew how tough she’s had it. You knew the kind of trust I was placing in you. How could you break her like that? Because that girl I dropped at Keller Hall was broken. Don’t think she wasn’t, dude.”

  I walk to my computer and tap the keys, bringing the screen to life. “This is what happened. I found this sort of hiding out in the files. No one has had access to this computer except for you, me, and Carly.” I hold it up so he can see the document.

  He looks at me, confused as hell. “I don’t understand…”

  “This document is called Lush, and this is what it says—Lush. I didn’t put it there. It’s a message from someone. To say they know who I am. When I pressed Carly, she admitted that she’s known who I am since day one. Day one, Vaughn.”

  “How?” he questions, seeming genuinely perplexed.

  “You told her when you were a kid, and she always remembered my name, so as soon as she was introduced to your buddy, Pax, she knew who I really was.”

  “Shit. I had no idea. I’m really sorry.”

  I put the computer back down on the desk and start to pace.

  “But Carly wouldn’t put that document on there. You know that. She’s not after you, Pax. She’s not that kind of a person.”

  “As much as I’d like to believe that—for your sake as much as anything else—there’s no other explanation. I think Lagazo’s calling the shots and he told her to leave this little warning.”

  Vaughn shakes his head vehemently. “No. There’s just no way. She hates him, and she cares about you. There’s no way she’d sell you out to Lagazo.”

  I stop pacing and step up to Vaughn. “Well, I think somebody did. My mom’s brakes failed. My dog was poisoned. Lagazo knows who I am, and the warning signs have been here all along, I was just too stupid to see them.”

  Even in the dim light, I can see Vaughn’s face pale. He swallows so loudly that it seems to echo around the room.

  “No,” he whispers.

  “Yes,” I answer. “And you have to accept that Carly may have been the one to tell him.”

  The next morning, the doorbell awakens me. I stumble out of bed and pull it open, still shirtless and in sweats. A deliveryman hands me an envelope and has me sign for it.

  After I close the door, I shuffle to the couch and sit down, rubbing a hand across the stubble on my chin. I look at the envelope and see that the return address is an anonymous post office box.

  I tear it open and slide out a piece of folded paper. It’s blank, but inside is a check made out to “Pax Reed” in the amount of $120,000. It’s signed by J.J. Lagazo himself.

  My heart races as I hold the smooth, crisp paper in my hand, the numbers swirling in front of my eyes. All I can think is, What has Carly done to make this happen? What sacrifice did she make to ensure that I wouldn’t be involved in paying off her debt? I’m sick at the thought of it, and I realize that I’ve probably made a very big mistake. Lagazo might know who I am, but Carly isn’t the one who told him.

  “God,” I whisper as Vaughn comes slouching into the room, still half asleep.

  “Was that the doorbell?” he grumbles. “Is Carly back?”

  I have to clear my throat before I can speak. “No. It was a delivery. This.” I shove the check out to him.

  He takes it and his eyes grow wide. “How—oh shit,” he says as he realizes what—or who—has most likely brought this money to us.

  “Yeah,” I say, heat creeping into my face as I look at the floor.

  “What do you think she’s done?” he asks, a look of panic settling into his features.

  “I don’t know, but we sure as hell better go find out.”

  He nods, and we both head to the bedrooms to get dressed and grab car keys.

  I pound on the door a second time, finally hearing scuffling noises from inside.

  “Jesus,” Vaughn mutters. “It’s like trying to wake the dead.”

  The door swings open and a very grumpy blonde in very small pajamas stands before us.

  “Hey, Vanessa,” I say, giving Carly’s roommate a big smile.

  She crosses her arms over her chest and glares first at me then at Vaughn. “What do you want?” she snaps.

  “We’re just hoping to talk to Carly for a minute,” I tell her while I inch back out of her reach. She looks like she might bite.

  “She’s not here.”

  “When will she be back?” Vaughn asks with forced patience.

  Vanessa gives both of us the evil eye. “I’m not sure you deserve that information,” she answers, finally settling her look of death on me.

  I sigh and lean against the doorframe. “Look, I know she’s pissed at me right now, but I swear I’m here to make things right. We’re worried about her, and she needs her family right now.” I gesture at Vaughn, who gives Vanessa the charming smile I’ve seen him use on dozens of women over the years. It’s always very successful.

  Vanessa just rolls her eyes. Vaughn looks desperate.

  “Well, even if I wanted to help you, I can’t. She packed up all her stuff last night, said she was dropping out of school, and took off.”

  “What?!” Vaughn jumps to attention, stepping closer to Vanessa and obviously startling the poor girl.

  “Look, I’m not her keeper.” Vanessa gets defensive now. “It’s not like I could force her to stay. I told her I thought she should give it a couple of days, y
ou know, think it over, but she refused. Just said she’d be back sometime next week to pick up any leftover mail and left.”

  Vaughn and I look at each other, and he mouths, “Lagazo,” as I nod my head.

  I turn back to Vanessa. “Okay. Thanks for everything. I know you did what you could. We’ll take it from here, I guess.”

  Vaughn looks at her, his expression somber. “Yeah, thank you. I really mean that. Carly hasn’t had many friends in her life, I appreciate you caring about her.”

  Vanessa’s expression softens, and she reaches out to touch Vaughn’s hand. “I’m sorry I couldn’t stop her. I really hope she’s okay.”

  We both nod and head to the car, apprehension warning us that we’re not going to like what we find next.

  The drive to Lagazo’s strip club is short, and neither Vaughn nor I say much. He tries texting Carly again, but just like the first three times, we get no response.

  The club looks abandoned by day and run-down. What glows in the dark or is covered in shadows looks dingy and filthy in sunlight.

  I pull the truck to a stop and glance around the nearly empty parking lot. Carly’s P.O.S. VW bug is nowhere to be seen. Honestly, I don’t know if the thing even runs anymore. It’s been left parked at the dorms for the last couple of weeks, and it was on its last leg before that.

  “Listen,” I tell Vaughn. “I feel like this is my fault. If she’s here, I mean.” I lean my head back against the seat. “I’m scared, man. Scared what it is Lagazo wants from me and my family. I let that fear control me and I let it color my view of Carly. I know she wouldn’t hurt me, and I can’t explain why I forgot that in that one moment, but I need to make it up to her.”

  Vaughn nods like he understands what I’m saying even though I’m not sure I understand what I’m saying.

  “I’d like to go in there alone to get her,” I continue. “I need to talk to her. I need to try to make things right. Will you let me do that?”

  Vaughn looks frustrated, and he lightly thumps the back of his hand against the side window. “Okay, but if you’re not back out here with Carly in ten minutes, I’m coming in.”

  I put my fist out for a fist bump and he complies.

  “That’s cool. I’ll try to get in and out fast, and if she’s there, I promise I’ll bring her with me.”

  I hop out of the car and stalk across the barren parking lot. Patches of grass sprout between the cracks in the asphalt, and the paint on the metal door is peeling.

  I enter the building and have to stand still for a moment to let my eyes adjust to the dimly lit interior. To my left is the bar, its surface permanently coated in sticky substances, and ahead of me are tables scattered everywhere, cheap metal chairs pulled up to them in groups of two or four.

  Beyond the bar, lit by a single spotlight, is a stage. I can see the millions of dust motes filtering through the air under the lights, and in the midst of the dirt and the harsh lighting, wrapped around a pole and wearing something that covers only the bare essentials, is Carly. My heart races and my stomach does a complete flip as rage bubbles up inside me. I step forward, my eyes laser-beamed on that glowing figure rotating around the pole while cheap dance electronica plays in the background.

  A movement to my left tells me that someone is coming toward me, but I thrust my fist out and stiff-arm the guy before he can get close enough to stop my forward trajectory. No one and nothing is going to stop me from getting that girl off that stage.

  “Carly!” I shout, as I get closer.

  She pauses in her rotation around the pole, her eyes big in her face as she turns to see me marching toward her.

  “You’re coming with me,” I demand as I get to the stage. I reach my hand up, giving her my most determined look and also conveying, I hope, just how damn sorry I am that she’s here at all.

  She looks down at me, her eyes sad and her cheeks flushed. Our eyes lock, and an entire conversation takes place in seconds—I’m sorry, you hurt me, I never will again, please take me back, please trust me. Then she reaches her hand out, a small smile starting to form on her sweet, sweet lips, right before a shot rings out, and she crumples, falling off the stage and into my waiting arms.

  Part IV

  I’m holding Carly, frantically looking for some indication of where she’s been hit. She’s wearing very little clothing—it shouldn’t be that hard to see a bullet hole, right? My heart is racing, and I realize that I’m calling her name over and over.

  “Carly! Carly!”

  It’s like being in a parallel world, I hear things going on around me, see things happening out of the corner of my eye, but at the same time all I really process is Carly, her pale face, her cold skin. My own heart is pounding so loudly I feel like my dad’s playing his drums next to me.

  My eyes rake over her yet again, and then I see it—blood, seeping from her side. Oh God, oh God. I reach behind my head and rip my t-shirt off, taking each arm out of the sleeves one at a time so I can continue to hold Carly’s head. I wad it up and stuff the shirt against her side where the blood is leaking out, where her life is draining away.

  I hear shouting, things crashing to the floor, Vaughn’s voice, “Pax! Shit, Pax!”

  “Carly,” I whisper. “Baby, please. You gotta’ stay with me right now. Do you hear me? Carly?”

  “Oh God.” Vaughn is leaning down next to me now. “What the hell happened?”

  “Hospital,” I grit out as I stand with her in my arms, my body finally catching up with everything that’s happening. “We have to get her to the hospital, Vaughn.”

  I look at him and his face is white, his eyes huge. “Come on,” he croaks out as he puts one hand on my shoulder, ushering me toward the door. As we leave the building I see a guy on the floor, holding his jaw in pain, guessing by the way Vaughn is cradling his right hand they’ve already met. Just as I start to step outside my gaze lands on the bar, standing behind it, arms crossed, stance relaxed, is Nicky. He looks me right in the eye and smirks, watching me struggle to carry Carly out.

  **

  When we pull up to the emergency entrance of the hospital Vaughn is out of the truck and opening my door before I can blink. I climb out, Carly still in my arms. She hasn’t made a sound or moved a muscle the entire drive, and I’m really scared. I kept checking the pulse in her wrist while Vaughn drove like a crazy person. I know she’s alive, but I’m not sure if she’ll stay that way for long.

  “We need help!” Vaughn yells as we run through the waiting room toward the sign in desk. “My cousin’s been shot.”

  A nurse comes out right away, telling us to follow her. She leads us through double doors behind the intake desk. We enter the big ER that is broken up into small cubicles lining both sides of the room, each separated from the others by curtains that hang from the ceiling. I lay Carly down on a bed and the nurse steps to her other side, as she pulls out a stethoscope.

  “Tell me what happened?” she asks as she leans down to listen to Carly’s heartbeat. I point out the wound, tell her I heard a gunshot before she collapsed, and that she hasn’t been conscious since then. As I talk I feel Vaughn becoming more and more tense standing next to me.

  “Okay,” the nurse says as she punches buttons on the wall above the bed. “The doctor is on his way, I’ll need both of you to move to the waiting room.”

  “No,” Vaughn says firmly. “I’m her next of kin, I want to be here with her.”

  The nurse looks at him for a moment then seems to realize that he’s not going to go easily. She nods once.

  “But you,” she points at me, “You’ve got to go. We need space for the doctor to maneuver.”

  I gulp, releasing Carly’s hand as my chest tightens so much I feel like I can’t breathe. “Okay,” I say. “Okay.”

  “I’ll get you back in as soon as I can, man.” Vaughn looks apologetic.

  I lean down and kiss her forehead. It’s cool and pale. “Please wake up for me, Carly. Please. I’m waiting for you,” I whisper, be
fore I turn and head back to the waiting room.

  The waiting room smells like disinfectant and has about twenty rock hard plastic chairs along with a TV hanging on one wall, playing MSNBC news. I don’t even notice other people as I sit down, the cold plastic making my bare skin pebble for a moment. My eyes are glued to those double doors that separate me from Carly, and my heart hurts so badly it’s like a marching band is in there. I run through the chain of events in my mind—me walking into the club, the guy who tried to stop me, Carly looking at me with her big brown eyes, the way she moved as if she was going to lean down and put her arms around me, then the expression on her face—

  Wait. The way she moved because she was about to lean down. She moved to her left. I see her injury in my mind. The bullet hit her left side. I was below her but slightly to her left. She moved left to line up with me. And when she moved left the bullet hit her. My entire body goes cold and my vision dims as I realize the truth of what just happened in that club. The bullet that tore through Carly was meant for me. Inadvertently, she stepped in front of a bullet aimed at me.

  I swallow down the bile that rises up in my throat and look around the waiting room for the first time, suddenly aware that I might be in danger. Everyone there seems legitimate, there for a real purpose, but now I’m agitated, uncomfortable. I stand and move to a seat with its back to the wall, away from the windows, trying to appear as casual as possible. Inside my heart is racing and my mind is frantic as it tears through scenarios. When it finally lands on something, it’s the thought that I’m in over my head. We’re in over our heads—Vaughn, Carly and me. We always have been. We were fooling ourselves thinking we could somehow deal with a guy like Lagazo and walk away unscathed.

  I take my phone out of my pocket, nausea rolling in my gut and panic in my chest. I take a deep breath and then let it out as I hit speed dial number one.

  “Pax,” my dad says the second he picks up. “We’ve been worried about you, son, is everything okay?”