There had been no one on my side. No one I could trust. I still have Dave, no, Demon’s number that he gave me the other day, but what do I know of the man he’s grown into? After Nathan’s funeral, he hadn’t come to my parents’ house again. I’d seen him briefly a few times in the distance when I was in my late teens, but never close enough even to say hello to.
Demon. Yes, his new name suits him. He’d always had these remarkable dark eyes flecked with gold which seemed to glow when he’d gotten excited or angry. The main differences since I last saw him are how long he’s grown his hair, that he’s become even more muscular, and his hardened expression that I don’t recall ever seeing before.
I’d seen the patch saying ‘President’ on his leather vest, and I doubt you get a higher rank than that in a motorcycle club. I’d known he’d joined, that his father had been president before him. But I’d never been exposed to the club or had any reason to think of Dave as a biker. When Nathan was home on leave, they were just two normal friends. Hellfire had never been anything other than Mr Black to me; he was my brother’s friend’s father, not a criminal. It wasn’t until later, when I was older, that I’d heard rumours of the sort of things they were into. Drug running and guns.
Nathan had still been friends with Dave, and I’d often wondered why. My brother had stood for law, democracy and the right to freedom. He didn’t join up to escape or get thrills; he’d really believed in what he was fighting for. Was going to be a career soldier, and I used to imagine him becoming a general one day. All that ended with the sniper’s bullet. Yeah, I couldn’t reconcile what I knew of my brother and the man whose friendship he’d made sure to maintain every time he came home on leave.
Now I’m in Demon’s hands, and I neither know nor care what he’s going to do with me. What I can’t understand is why he’s so upset about Theo? Why he’s so angry with me? Why had I blurted out that my son was the result of me being raped? And why had Demon walked out before I could explain the danger Theo was in?
Will Demon be returning? I frown as I stare down at my fingernails, bitten so short they’re barely there at all. If he does, will I want to tell him anything? Surely, he won’t turn me into the authorities for abandoning my baby? That can’t mean anything to him, can it?
You’re Nathan’s sister.
Is that it? Does he think he’s responsible for me, as he was my brother’s best friend? Huh! If so, where was he when I buried my father? Where was he when my mother scalded, and could have killed, her grandchild? Where was he when I wept through the night when she first hadn’t recognised me? Where was he when I mopped up the blood when she hit me across the nose?
There’s no clock down here, and I refuse to ask—Mace, wasn’t it?—how much time has passed. I refuse to try and get information; it really doesn’t matter to me. For the first time in months, I’ve no invalid or child to look after. No pregnant body to care for. Nothing else to think about except how much I miss my baby. Theo’s gone now, I’ll never see him again.
My plan had been to leave Theo and then kill myself. The world wouldn’t miss me, and it would mean Theo would be safe forever. I’d left no clue, nothing for anyone to follow. The assumption, hopefully, would be he’d disappeared with me. Demon has to let me go, then I’ll put my original plan into play. Soon I’ll be breathing no longer and won’t have to think anymore. I don’t even have a plan how to do it, but know it needs to be done.
If Theo’s father finds me, he’ll try to make me talk. I don’t like to think of the methods he’d use to force me to give my son up.
But I’ve nothing to tell. I don’t know where Theo is. That’s the bargain I’d made. No information given in either direction.
If I’m going to die, I’d rather do it painlessly.
Seeing Demon the other morning had brought back happier memories. Oh, I know I used to annoy him and Nathan; I’d been so irritating, telling them Mom had said they had to let me play with them. That squirrel Hellfire had mentioned? That was one of those times. I shouldn’t even have been there. The memory brings a fleeting smile to my face.
I’d looked up to my big brother, but even more, had revered his handsome friend. I’d even boasted at school he was my boyfriend, back when I’d been five and him fifteen. It wasn’t until I reached puberty that I knew what it was to wish that could be reality. Oh, how I plagued him when Nathan was at home on leave. I’d been sixteen the year we lost my brother. My cheeks redden as my thoughts make me blush. Demon was twenty-six, and embarrassed when I’d dressed up when he’d come over, at my early attempts to put on makeup, and oh, my vain endeavours to flirt. Looking back now, I can see how I’d made him uncomfortable. Back then, my only desire had been to steal a kiss.
I hadn’t been successful.
I’d left, gone to college, after that moved to New York. Lost my virginity to someone with long, almost-black hair and dark eyes, and looking back, every boyfriend thereafter was a Demon stand-in. Would I have been able to handle the real thing? Hell, no. As today has shown, he might be an attractive package, but what’s inside is rotten to the core. I hadn’t missed the inherent violence that he seemed to only just be holding back.
This Demon no longer attracts me. If I cared enough, I’d be scared.
Theo. No. Don’t go there. Don’t think about him anymore. A silent prayer for his safety, that will have to be enough. Jeez! Suddenly it hits me. I’d been so deep in my misery, I hadn’t asked the obvious. How does Demon know what I’d done? How does he know I handed Theo over? For a second, I worry he might have upset all my plans. But it’s me he brought here, not Theo. Please, let Theo be gone, where neither I nor anyone else will ever be able to find him.
A sob starts to rise; I push it back down. To keep my mind occupied, words come out of my mouth. “Aren’t you bored?”
My sudden question takes Mace by surprise, and he needs a moment to answer. His eyes flick first to the other man, then back to me. “Bored? No.”
“You’re not curious, either?”
“Nah. What reasons you had for what you did are between you and Demon. No concern of mine.”
“No thoughts? You’re not going to berate me?”
His head tilts as he thinks about it. “I reckon you’re going to get what you deserve.”
Maybe I won’t need to kill myself. Maybe Demon will do it for me. Do I want to know? While I’m wondering what question to formulate next, Mace turns his back. Conversation over.
His companion? One look shows it’s not worth wasting my words.
I swear this building’s making noises, subtle creaks and groans, but otherwise, down here, no sound reaches us. If half the rumours about the Satan’s Devils are true and my suspicions correct about what the basement is used for, I expect it will be soundproofed. Time’s dragging. Whatever will happen, I just want to get it over with. I’m starting to wonder whether it’s possible to die just from the pain I’m feeling inside. All my life’s been about loss, my brother, father, and then my mom’s living death. Theo was mine, a life dependent on me. A living, breathing creature who carried part of my soul as well as my blood. As he grew I knew I’d see Nathan in him, Dad as well, even my mother. Wrapped in an exterior that would be unique to him too. I’d never blame him for his existence; both he and I were innocent in that. His start to life never for one minute made me love him less.
The door opening makes me jump. I didn’t even hear footsteps.
Demon enters alone, pulling the door shut behind him. “You can leave us, Mace, Thunder.”
I watch, wondering whether they can sense the danger in the air, the threat that violence may well be done. Would they be worried about leaving me alone with Demon? But if either of the two men have such concerns, they don’t show them. Mace leads the way to the closed door and opens it again.
In the brief moment the heavy wood is held open, sounds reach us from up above. Music playing, voices talking. Laughter, and the unexpected wail of a hungry baby. A cry I know well, and whic
h has its normal affect, amplified as it’s been so long since I last fed him. My breasts swell, my nipples leak, and the front of my shirt dampens.
I stand so fast the chair topples over. “Theo. How? Why? What?” Then realising the questions don’t matter, torn between being beyond grateful I’ve been given another chance and the hopelessness that my hurriedly thought out and executed plan had failed, I’m rushing toward the door, but come up against an immovable force.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To feed Theo. He’s hungry. He needs me.”
“Fuckin’ shame you didn’t think about that earlier.”
I slap at him; he takes hold of my wrists. I kick at his legs, it’s like kicking tree trunks. It’s only when I raise my knee that he moves back, somehow swings me around until my back is to his front. Then he hisses menacingly into my ear, “Calm the fuck down. We’re going to talk. Once we’ve done that, I’ll decide whether you are ever going to see your son again.”
The door might have closed, meaning I can no longer hear my son’s hungry cries, but the echo is going around my head. “He needs me,” I repeat. “I have to go to him.”
“He doesn’t need you. Just needs someone who’ll take care of him, and he’s got exactly that. You didn’t care who’d be looking after him earlier, did you?”
“I cared. You have no idea how fucking much,” I shout, knowing I’m sounding unreasonable. “What do you mean he’s got someone to look after him? Who’s got him?”
“One of the ol’ ladies.”
That statement makes me feel no easier. The last old woman he had caring for him tried to drown him in a too-hot bath. I’m beyond frantic with worry.
“Calm down, woman. Violet, calm the fuck down. Answer my questions and maybe I’ll let you see him, okay?”
I’m still struggling, my brain seems to have switched off, settling on only one thing. Now all I want to do is get back to my baby. I realise I’ve been in some sort of fugue since I left him; now it hits me how wrong it was, and maybe, just maybe, there’s another way to sort this mess out. A way which means both Theo and I can be together. Trouble is, I have no idea how it could be achieved.
“Calm down. Breathe.”
I’m pulled back more tightly. I can feel movements of a chest behind mine. A ribcage that rises and falls rhythmically. Unconsciously I find my lungs beginning to work in time with his.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Theo’s in very good hands. Breathe, that’s it. Breathe. You’re safe, Violet. Safe.”
It’s his quiet, reassuring voice that breaks me. One minute I’m struggling to get loose, the next all the fight goes out of me. The last breath I’ve taken comes out on a sob, soon followed by another. Now he turns me, my arms go around him, my muscle memory seeming to remember the man who had comforted me when I was a kid, who’d held me at Nathan’s funeral, encouraging me to let all my grief out. He’s Demon no longer, but Dave, my brother’s best friend.
I cry for ages. All the tears I’d held back as I survived my ordeal, pregnancy and becoming a single mother, all the despair I’d kept inside as my mom grew worse, all the fear and escalating horror, all the months when I couldn’t allow myself to be weak. A hand is rubbing my back, a voice murmuring nothings into my ear. I’ve no idea how much time has passed before I’ve recovered enough to speak.
“He wants Theo,” I tell Demon. “He’ll stop at nothing to get him.”
“Here is not the place for this conversation,” Demon says gruffly as he lifts me up into his arms, carrying me bridal-style, as if I weigh nothing, to the door. He shows no signs of exertion as he carries me up the stairs. In the main room I look around eagerly, but there’s no sign of Theo, just a few men drinking or with their arms draped around women who might as well be naked for what little they’re wearing. A fog of cigarette smoke makes me worried for my son’s lungs, but Demon might be the only person who can help me.
It’s time I tell him the truth.
Up another stairway and I start to worry about his back, but it’s as if he’s carrying a feather, not a woman who could never be called skinny, and who’s still bearing weight gained through pregnancy. Down to the end of a corridor, and then to a room on the left. He puts my feet on the ground but still keeps one arm around me as he reaches into his vest for a key. When he finds it, he places it in the lock.
“Worried people might steal your stuff?” After my initial surprise that he keeps the door locked, I don’t wonder about it. The men here are criminals, after all.
“Nah, worried about Bitch making herself at home.”
Well, the thought that Demon has to fight the women off shouldn’t, and doesn’t, shock me. But the fleeting pain the thought brings is unexpected.
Then we’re inside. I have a second to appreciate the tidy, but very masculine, room, before Demon points me toward the bed. As I hover, unsure whether to stand or sit, he pulls up his desk chair, turning it around before he places his ass on the seat, his arms folded over the back.
“Vi. I reckon there’s a lot I don’t know. Supposition can be dangerous, so why don’t I let you get it all out? I won’t jump to judgement until you’ve finished.”
“You did earlier,” I tell him, as I perch on the edge of the bed, “and you’re assuming there’s judgement to be made.” I’ve already been in front of a jury who didn’t believe me. Why should Demon be different?
He actually looks chided, but then defends himself, “There’s wrong things done for the right reasons, and right things done for wrong. Can’t help but feel what you did isn’t right, but I’m comin’ to doubt you’ve got no feelin’s. Tell me straight. How d’you feel about the kid?”
That’s easy to answer. “I love him with all that I am. There’s nothing more important to me than Theo.”
He nods, slowly, as if re-evaluating everything he’s thought up to now. Then he lets out a long sigh. “Think this is going to be a long session. You want a drink?”
“A water? I’m, er,” I glance down, drawing his attention to my leaking boobs, so quickly look back up. “I’m still breastfeeding.”
“The kid going to be alright with bottled shit?”
“Theo,” I correct haughtily, “is going to be fine. He’s a greedy little bugger; I supplement him with formula every day.” I want to go to him, but Demon talking about bottles suggests at least he’s not going hungry. Mind you, if he was, I’d expect him to be brought to me. When he wants to be fed, his cries soon become deafening.
“Theo,” he repeats as though chastised. “Any particular reason you named him what you did?”
I shake my head as he stands, opens a mini-fridge and extracts two bottles. One of water, one of beer. “Not really. I liked the name. It means ‘God-given’; I suppose that’s what I think he is. Never expected him or…” wanted him, I complete in my head.
He reseats himself and nods as though he’s plucked the words out of my head. “Talk to me, Violet. How much of what you told me the other day was a lie?”
“None of it,” I reply, shocked. “It’s true, I lost my job. Dad died, I came back here. I had been planning to return to New York, but I couldn’t go straight back. I needed to find a new job first. Then, when I saw how Mom was, I knew I had no choice but to stay here instead. She went downhill fast when Dad had gone. She’d found him, you see, when he collapsed. I think the shock was the last straw.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“Pre-senile dementia.” Such innocuous words for something which sucks the soul out of a person, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell.
Another rise and dip of his chin, encouraging me to continue.
“I needed to find a well-paying job here. Vicky was already helping out, said she could do more hours if I was bringing the money in.”
“You studied business management or some such shit, didn’t you?”
It’s my turn to nod. “I majored in art but realising I might find it hard to earn a l
iving doing what I love, I took courses in business studies alongside. Anyway,” I pause, gathering the strength to tell him the cold facts calmly. “I told you the other day I was taking what jobs I could, while looking for something more suitable. Thought I’d found something when I answered an ad for a manager, seemed something I could turn my hand to. By then I was starting to get desperate, I’d had a few interviews, but was never called back. I knew it wasn’t the ideal job, but it was more like the kind of money I hoped to be earning.”
His eyebrow rises as he sees me bite my lip. My hands clench together and begin to twist in my lap. I allow myself a moment to watch his throat work as he swallows his beer, then, when he puts the bottle back down, I resume.
“I had an interview with the person who introduced himself as the owner. It seemed to go well. A day later, I had a phone call, and he invited me out for a drink.” Seeing his quick look, I hurriedly correct any mis-assumption, “It was a business meeting. The job was mine; apparently, he just wanted to go over some details.”
The look on his face, his intense doubting eyes on mine, is familiar. No, the jury hadn’t believed me, either. It makes me sound so naïve, which I was.
Chapter Six
Demon
That it’s gut-wrenchingly hard for her to tell her story is clear. That it’s going to be equally difficult for me to hear is also true. So far I’m reading she was gullible, used. Why should she have street-smarts? She wasn’t brought up the same way as I. Nathan and I shielded her, protected her, when perhaps we should have explained how the world works. When Nathan had gone, I should have kept tabs on her, should have fucking known she was back in town. Should have checked up on Nathan’s kin, not assumed that, as they were the same age as my parents, that they’d have been jogging along just fine. I should have been there for her.
What she’s been through in the past few months? I should have been there beside her. If I had known, what she’s going to say next might not have occurred. One thing I’ve already changed my mind on, there’s no doubt she loves the kid. She truly believes handing him off like she’d done was the best she could do. I’m beginning to suspect there’s a whole load of pain on someone’s horizon, but I’m going to have to coax her to tell me whose it is.
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