Edge of Darkness

by Barker, Freya

  It shouldn’t matter, but it does. It matters a fuckofalot hearing my father say that.

  _______________

  We’re just finishing up dinner at the clubhouse when I notice Lissie yawning for the third time in a row.

  “You tired, baby?” I ask her softly.

  “A little.”

  Earlier we ripped out all the upstairs carpet and just made a start on the flooring, when Ahiga came to tell us dinner was on. It took promises to finish up the master after dinner to get Nosh to break for a bite.

  “I’ll take you home. Let me talk to Nosh.”

  “You don’t have to. Lisa will be heading home soon, I can just hitch a ride with her.”

  “I can drive you, gorgeous,” Tse, who has been shamelessly listening in, pipes up.

  “Do you have a death wish?” I ask him sharply, making Lissie snicker beside me.

  I know he’s looking for a reaction and I’m giving him exactly what he wants, but I can’t seem to help myself. If Lissie wasn’t holding on to my hand under the table, I might’ve been tempted to plant my fist in his widely grinning face. It would’ve been very fucking satisfying.

  “Can I ask you a favor?” she asks Lisa, who comes walking out of the kitchen.

  “Sure.”

  “Are you heading home soon?”

  “I’m getting the kids now,” Lisa says, indicating the small group of kids crowded on the large sectional watching something on the tube.

  “Do you think I could hitch a ride back with you? Tse is gonna help Yuma finish up a floor at Nosh’s.”

  “Of course,” she says over her shoulder, as she rounds up the kids.

  “Hey,” Tse complains. “Who said anything about me helping out?”

  “I did,” Lissie says. “Least you can do for egging Yuma on every chance you get.”

  I fucking love this woman and I’m letting her know by leaning in and taking her mouth in a hard kiss.

  “Mr. Yuma, why do you kiss Lissie?” Kiara wants to know.

  “She his girlfriend, stupid,” her brother grumbles, ducking when Lisa threatens to cuff him in the back of the head.

  “Call your sister stupid one more time, boy, and there’ll be no gamin’ for a month, you hear me?”

  Poor Thomas, who walked up behind them, stands frozen at the sharp tone in the woman’s voice. Lisa is a sweet woman but she is not one to mess with. I notice Lissie shooting a wink in the boy’s direction. At first sight, it looks like he doesn’t react, but then he lowers his head and I can just see the beginnings of what actually might be a smile. That would be a first.

  Lissie is like a siren no one can resist. Not even my grumpy father or this distrustful young boy.

  I walk her to the car, where Lisa is already herding the kids into the back seat.

  “Are you sure, baby?”

  “Positive. You go help your dad. Make sure he doesn’t overdo it.”

  “I shouldn’t be too late,” I promise, kissing the side of her head.

  “If it’s easier for you to stay here, that’s fine by me.”

  I turn her to face me and lean close. “Not by me. I’m not sleeping without you.”

  “Okay,” she says with a smile, her hand stroking my jaw. “I should get going, they’re waiting for me.”

  She goes up on her toes and presses her lips to mine, kissing me sweetly, before she pulls open the passenger side door.

  As they back out of the parking spot, Lissie signs, “I love you.”

  Lissie

  “So Mr. Yuma is your boyfriend? Are you going to get married? Do I get to wear a pretty dress?”

  Kiara is asking a million and one questions from the back seat, not giving me a chance to answer any one of them.

  “Sweetheart, take a breath and give Lissie a chance to talk,” Lisa admonishes the girl gently.

  “Women,” Ezrah grumbles, making me chuckle.

  He is so much like the big men he hangs out with at the club. It’s cute since he’s still so young, but I can already tell he’s a handful.

  I turn in my seat so I can see Kiara.

  “Yes, Yuma is my boyfriend and if we ever get married you get to wear a pretty dress.”

  “Yay!” She does a little fist pump.

  Her excitement wanes quickly, and by the time we get to the Riverside her eyes barely stay open. Lisa hands Ezrah the keys and sends him to open her door as she lifts Kiara from the back seat. The little girl clings to her, putting her head on her nana’s shoulder.

  “Night, Lisa, thanks for the ride,” I tell her at the top of the stairs.

  “No problem. Night.”

  I lean over and kiss the little girl’s cheek. “Night, honey.”

  “Night, Lissie,” she mumbles.

  I watch them walk into their apartment before I turn to my door. I fish my keys from my purse and let myself inside, closing the door behind me before I reach for the light switch.

  Nothing happens. The lightbulb must’ve burned out. I think I might have a spare in the hallway closet.

  I walk into the living room and hit the switch there.

  Nothing.

  CHAPTER 29

  Yuma

  I CAN’T REMEMBER the last time I did something constructive with my father—if ever—but I’m thinking we should’ve done this years ago.

  After decades of not seeing eye to eye on anything, this simple manual labor, working side by side with him toward a common goal, has been eye opening. He’s still a grumpy old man, and I’m sure he still sees me as a pain-in-the-ass snotnose, but it’s no longer all we see. For as long as I can remember, I colored every look or word my father directed at me through my expectation of him, although I didn’t see it at the time. It became easy to interpret anything he said in the light I believed he saw me in.

  Fucking expectations never left room for anything else.

  Not until now, with Momma gone and emotions still raw, it feels like we’re seeing each other for the first time.

  “Take a breather, Pop,” I tell him, after seeing him struggle to get up from the floor to get another board. Fuck, my knees are killing me and he’s got thirty years on me.

  I don’t even realize what slipped out without thinking until I see the emotion on his face.

  Pop. I used to call him that a long time ago. Before I dropped it in favor of Nosh somewhere in my teens, because that’s what all the other guys called him. Later it just became something to underline the division. Something to lash out at him with.

  Fuck, it shames me to see what the simple three-letter word I’ve kept from him for so long means to him.

  “We should call it a night. Go see your woman.”

  “I will as soon as I finish these last two rows. Why don’t you start heading over to the clubhouse? I’ll be right behind you.”

  He nods and I watch as he gingerly heads down the stairs.

  Tse actually helped for a couple of hours before he’d taken off to parts unknown, and of course Wapi was here, but he’s responsible for the boys’ bunkhouse at night and had to go. We did manage to get all of the upstairs floors done, except for the bathroom and a few rows in the master.

  It doesn’t take me long to finish those before I clean up, shut off the lights, and head over to the clubhouse. Trunk is on the porch, smoking a cigarette.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here.” I motion for him to hand me his pack.

  “Been a crazy fucking day,” he grumbles.

  “How so?”

  “Had a breakthrough with those boys today. Started this morning when I caught Thomas calling Ezrah a nigger. Spent the morning holed up in my office with him.” He shakes his head and takes a deep drag, before continuing. “Those kids have been fucked up. Boy’s telling me some of the shit they were put through and I had a hard time not to ram my fist through a wall. These bastards methodically desensitized the kids from as young as three years old. That was Thomas’ age when he ended up in the ANL’s hands. Remember you told me what he’
d said about mothers?” I nod and grunt an acknowledgment. “Apparently that’s how the kids were kept in line. They were told their mother would end up in a hole in the ground if they misbehaved. Then they were told to dig a hole where they’d find human remains. One of those locations was at the fucking development right here in town.”

  “You’re shitting me.”

  “Not even close. Hard to believe one person could be that fucking depraved, but a whole group of them? That’s some sick shit. Talked to the older boy after school. After he realized what I’d already found out, he opened up too. Fuck, man. I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again knowing there’s that kind of evil in the world.”

  “Have you talked to anyone? Law enforcement?”

  “Yeah. Went to the FBI office this afternoon. I would’ve talked to Luna, but she’s not back from Telluride yet. I didn’t wanna wait.”

  He lights another cigarette and I see his hand trembling.

  “Brother, you need to get home. See your woman and your boy.”

  He stares off in the distance at the mention of Jaimie and River, a muscle ticking in his jaw.

  “She’s pregnant,” he says in a monotone voice. I’m about to congratulate him, knowing they’ve been trying for a while. “Kept it quiet for a bit. Wasn’t the right time with Momma dying and all.” He runs his hand over his bald head. “Twelve weeks. Happiest fucking moment of my life when she told me.” He takes another drag of his smoke. “Now? I can’t help wonder what the fuck we’re thinking bringing another kid into this fucked-up world.”

  I get what he’s saying but he’s missing a point.

  “Are you kidding? It’s exactly what the world needs; kids like yours, raised in a family where love is the color of everyone’s skin. Parents to teach them basic human morals, without feeding them ideological bullshit.”

  “Shee-it, brother. Sobriety has turned you into a fucking philosopher.” He chuckles, tossing his smoke in the can, and clapping me on the shoulder. “Or was it love?”

  “Whatever,” I mumble with a grin. “I’m gonna go in and say goodnight before heading home to my own woman.” I start walking for the door when he calls my name.

  “Yuma. Appreciate the sentiment, brother.”

  I lift my chin and go inside. I quickly check on my father, who’s having a drink at the bar with Paco and Honon, and promise him I’ll be back in the morning.

  It’s almost midnight when I pull into my parking spot. A quick glance at Lissie’s dark apartment tells me she must have gone to bed. I take the stairs two at a time and pull my keys from my pocket, unlocking the door.

  In the dark I kick off my boots and hang up my jacket, trying to be as quiet as I can, heading straight for the bedroom. That’s where I first notice something wrong. Light from the parking lot filters into the room, something I know Lissie always closes the blinds against. My eyes drift to the bed, which looks just like we left it this morning. Empty.

  My skin suddenly feels too tight as alarm bells go off, and I reach for the light switch. Nothing happens. I rush down the hall to the second bedroom and it is empty too. The light’s not working there either. It isn’t in the bathroom, or the kitchen, and when I reach for the bulb I notice it’s been loosened. The moment I tighten it the light almost blinds me. I do the same in the living room, the hallway, and then I’m back in the bedroom, where I find the bulb loose as well. The entire apartment is lit up, but there’s no sign of Lissie.

  Then I notice her purse tossed on the loveseat, and that’s when panic closes its cold fist around my heart.

  “What’s wrong?” Lisa, disheveled and sleepy peeks through the crack in her door after I almost banged it down.

  “Where’s Lissie?”

  “What? She’s home.”

  “She’s not there. Where did she go?”

  “I don’t—”

  Not waiting for her to finish, I pull out my phone and find Ramirez’s number.

  Lissie

  Had it only been the cold steel pressed against the base of my skull, I would’ve taken my chances.

  It is the promise of unspeakable things to be done to Lisa and her kids if I fight him, that has me comply with his demands. I figure if I can bide my time until we are far enough from the apartments, I might get an opportunity.

  He pushes me out of the apartment and to the other side of the gallery, where a secondary set of stairs leads down to the garbage containers in the small parking lot at the rear of the complex. I make note of as much as I can, his unfamiliar voice, his size, his scent, but every time I try to sneak a peek at him, he presses the barrel harder into my skin.

  An old, black Cadillac DeVille is parked beside one of the dumpsters and he pops the trunk as we approach. I know what’s coming and I try to brace myself, but with one arm banding around my waist, he simply lifts me off my feet and tosses me in. I cry out when I land on my bad shoulder and immediately roll on my back, even as he’s already closing the trunk. But not before I get my first look at his face.

  In the darkness that follows I try to remember where I saw it before. I noted in my quick glimpse of him he’s at least mid-forties, if not older. With small eyes set too close together and his nose clearly busted a few times, but the bottom half of his face was mostly obscured by facial hair. I know I’ve seen him before.

  I can feel the vibrations from the engine when he starts it up. The moment the car starts moving, I use my right hand to feel around the trunk for a safety latch or anything I can use as a weapon. When I pull up the edge of the carpet lining, I encounter wiring and start pulling on it. Anything in my hands is better than nothing, and in a perfect world I may have taken out his taillights and he gets pulled over by the police.

  I want to kick my feet against the inside of the trunk lid, but I’m afraid he’ll hear. Instead I yank hard at the wire until it pops free.

  After what feels like an eternity, I notice we’ve hit a more uneven road surface. Probably a gravel road, judging by the stones I hear pinging against the underbody of the car. When the car slows down, I pull my knees to my chest and brace my feet against the lid. The best defense is offense, and I’m planning to catch him off guard.

  I listen for the door closing and then the crunch of dirt under his feet coming closer. I clench the length of wire I looped into a whip of sorts in my fist and wait for the latch on the trunk to pop.

  The moment I hear it, I kick up as hard as I can, and note a satisfying thump and a loud “Fuck!”

  I must’ve knocked him on his ass. Jumping at the opportunity, I scramble out of the trunk and plan to beeline it to the edge of the trees I see, but I’ve barely taken a step when my feet are pulled out from under me and I go down hard. My training has me ignore the sharp pain in my shoulder, and I instantly roll to my back so I can see him coming at me.

  But before I can do anything he’s looming over me, sitting down on my legs, his face distorted in anger. In a last ditch effort, I swing my right hand holding the wire like a whip and catch the bastard in his face. A sharp cut along his cheek opens up and he raises a hand in surprise. When his fingers come away bloody, the anger is back in full force.

  “You fucking cunt!”

  The last thing I see is his fist coming at my face.

  Yuma

  The parking lot is packed with patrol cars. Every fucking cop in Durango showed up within minutes of my call.

  “Luna is on her way too, brother. She’s already in touch with her team,” Ouray assures me.

  I called him as soon as I got off the phone with Ramirez, and he just called me back to let me know he’s coming over with Nosh. I pace back and forth in the parking lot outside the office, afraid if I stop moving, the edge of darkness creeping up on me will swallow me whole.

  “Okay.”

  “We’re a few minutes out. Hang in there.” Then he ends the call.

  I’m terrified and feel paralyzed, as everyone around me seems to be moving with a purpose and all I can do is pace while envisioning L
issie broken and bleeding at the bottom of a hole in the ground. I don’t know what to do, wouldn’t even know where to start looking. I can’t even.

  I wish I had my old friend Jack at hand.

  A squeal of tires draws my attention, as a black SUV pulls into the parking lot a little too fast. I watch as it’s parked haphazardly behind a cruiser and Luna gets out of the driver’s side. She clocks me and walks my way, clutching a box in her hands.

  “I need your help,” she says when she reaches me, and just like that thoughts of Jack dissipate and purpose takes their place. I walk ahead of her into the office, where she plunks the box on the desk. “I got that this afternoon from a cop who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the wall. A waitress at the restaurant in Telluride noticed it in the booth where Lissie had been sitting before the shooting, and handed it over to him. He had it in the back seat of his patrol car and forgot about it for two days. His ass is fucking toast.”

  “What do you need?” I prompt her, eager to do something.

  “I just had a quick peek in there before I left, but I noticed a few pictures of Lissie’s friend with a biker I don’t recognize.”

  I open the box and grab a handful of pictures out. Some are of Dani and Chains, her face no longer holding the happy smile it had in that snapshot from Vegas. Guess reality wasn’t quite as grand as her dream had been. Then I get to a couple of images of her with someone else and before I even notice who it is, I spot the stark fear on the woman’s face.

  “That’s Bones.”

  “Who?”

  “Bones, Moab Reds. Nasty motherfucker. Almost as bad as his buddy, Chains.” I hand the pictures to Luna, but she’s reading a piece of paper she pulled from the box.

  “What’s that?”

  “Birth certificate of one Jesse Gorman Brentwood, dated June 21, 2013.” She looks up at me. “Brentwood was Chains’ name: William David Brentwood.”

  “She had a kid with him?”

  “That’s what it looks like. Show me that Bones guy.” I shove the images her way.

  “I got into it with him not that long ago,” I admit.

  “With who?” Ouray walks into the office with my father right behind him.