by Abbi Cook
It’s only natural. If so much of her time here hadn’t been the worst thing she’d ever experienced, maybe a trace of what we were together could exist in her mind, but to forget the bad, she’ll have to give up the good too.
And then one day, all of this will disappear from her memory.
But as much as her future offers her that chance, mine doesn’t. I’ll return to the life I chose years ago when I didn’t have any other choice. The part of me that fell for her will fade away, replaced with the hardness required to do what I do.
We all have our roles to play. Sometimes, though, we step out of them for even a short time and get a taste of what another life is like.
In the bright sunlight, I squint while I drive Sophie toward her house in that suburban neighborhood I have no business being in this morning. A heavy feeling hangs between us, but neither of us say a word the entire way there. Just thirty minutes from the estate, it’s like I’m driving to another world entirely, one where I don’t belong in the stark light of day.
My only knowledge of this place is Carney’s house, so I drive there and can’t help but notice how perfect it seems as his wife sits on the front porch drinking her morning coffee with one of her neighbors. Does she have any idea of the trouble her husband routinely hovers so close to? One look at her and how happy she looks tells me no, she doesn’t.
Is it all for the better that she remains ignorant, or should I pity her for being in the dark about the man she’s devoted herself to? I don’t know, and as I look away from that idyllic scene at Carney’s house, I realize I’ve never thought that about anyone else.
“Drive one street over. It’s a brown house with white shutters and a little yard.”
Turning to look at Sophie, I nod. Brown house. Little yard. Will she someday be like Carney’s wife sitting on the front porch with a cup of coffee talking to the neighbor while her husband gambles their life savings away or is forced to go to someone like Duke for a loan to hide that nasty habit of his from her?
I hate that future for Sophie.
As I stop the car in front of her house, I can only glance over at it before that future seems to materialize right before my eyes. Grabbing her arm, I hang onto one last moment with her before she leaves my life forever.
“Don’t let yourself be fooled by any guy who seems good. We’re all bad men, Sophie. Some just show it more than others.”
One last time, she gives me one of her gentle smiles that lights up her face. “Then I guess I got lucky finding the one bad man who’s not so bad, after all.”
She leans over and kisses me softly before opening the car door. “Remember, you promised to not forget me, King. And even though you haven’t asked me to do that, I won’t forget you either.”
I watch as she runs into her house, slamming the door behind her and leaving our time together with me.
With one last glance at that brown house with the white shutters, I pull away and start back toward the world I live in. “Don’t worry, Sophie. I won’t forget you.”
By the time I get back to the estate, all the good she brought out in me has receded to a dark corner inside me and I’m once again the same man I’ve always been. I walk into Duke’s office to let him know Sophie’s back home safe and sound, but instead of finding my boss, Tap and Marsh are sitting in the chairs in front of his desk waiting for him.
“Where’s Duke?” I ask Marsh, even though Tap spins around to throw me a nasty look.
“He’ll be down in a few minutes,” Marsh answers without turning around.
“Fine.”
I turn to leave and Tap is on me before I take two steps toward the door. He sneaks a few shots in to my kidneys, but when I get him face-to-face, whatever advantage he had disappears. I quickly look at his hands for his usual weapon of choice but see no knife.
Too bad because I came ready for him today.
My switchblade is out of my pocket and in front of him before he knows what happened. For all that he did to Sophie, and for all the hate I have inside me for that, it’s time he paid with blood. I don’t give a fuck that he’s Duke’s favorite anymore.
All I care about is revenge. Sophie couldn’t strike back at him, but I can for her. And now he’s going to find out what happens when you take a shot at the king and miss.
For the first time since I’ve known him, fear fills his eyes at the sight of the light glinting off the blade in my hand. “How’s it feel, asshole? You’ve been playing with those fucking toys of yours all this time, and the one day you need even one of them on you, here you are without it.”
“What the fuck is this about?” he asks in a squeaky voice that shows how terrified he is.
I point the tip of the knife toward his face and laugh. “It’s about having to deal with you every fucking time I don’t want to. It’s about you being a fucking asshole who makes my life more difficult. But most of all, it’s about you taking what was fucking mine.”
Tap lifts his hands like he’s surrendering to me, but it’s no use. There’s no chance for a reprieve this time.
“I didn’t touch her. Not that way anyway. Why the fuck do you care so much anyway?”
“Because she was mine. I made that perfectly clear to you, and still you thought you could come into my home and snatch her from where she belonged.”
I take a step toward him as he backs up closer to the corner of the room. “Not such a big man when you’re not the one with the knife, are you?”
When I woke up this morning next to Sophie, loving the feel of her body pressed close to mine in the bed we shared, I didn’t plan to strike against Tap. I was lost in the ecstasy of being with the one person who gave me a reason to smile.
That all changed when she slammed the car door behind her and ran back to her life.
From that point on, the desire to avenge Sophie pushed out everything, except for the memory of her smile when she tried to tell me I’m not the bad man I know I am. Tap couldn’t be allowed to continue to walk around without suffering the punishment he was due.
My mind filled with pure rage for what he did to her, I slash at him with surgical precision. He lifts his hands to protect himself, but he’s too slow and the blade slices through his skin from ear to ear.
For a long moment, everything falls silent in the room, except for the desperate sound of him gasping for air. His hands clutch at his neck, but it’s no use. There’s no stopping the blood as it pours out of him, spurting like a geyser from the gash that goes far too deep.
He can’t speak anymore. No more cocky bullshit coming out of his mouth. No more threats to wreak havoc on the world because he wants to.
I watch him slide to the floor, his round eyes bulging out of their sockets in shock that it was me who did this to him. On the other side of the room, Marsh stands watching it all but saying nothing. Older and smarter, he knows better.
When Tap takes his final breath, I turn to look at Marsh and nod. More satisfaction than I thought I’d get from killing that fucker courses through me.
“When you take a shot at the king, you better kill him or he’s going to kill you.”
“Fuck, man. Something tells me we all read that situation with the girl wrong.”
After I wipe Tap’s blood on my pants, I put my blade away and smile at Marsh. “Something tells me you’re right.”
He stares at me in shock, but his eyes grow wide when I pull my gun from my waistband and aim for the center of the old fuck’s forehead. One shot is all it takes. No chance for reprieve. No chance to say a single word that can change my mind. Nothing. Marsh drops to the floor with a thud, and then it’s over.
I walk out into the hallway and head up to where Duke unknowingly waits for me. My job at this fucking place is officially over as of today.
Chapter Twenty
Sophie
For nearly five weeks, my mother has hovered over me like she’s afraid if she leaves me alone for more than a few minutes at a time, I’ll disappear. She doesn’t have to worry. I
don’t know how I know that, but I do.
Five weeks feels like forever, but then again, so did ten days with King.
I’ve tried to forget everything about that time, except when the two of us were alone in that apartment of his that I hated until I was leaving and then I missed it. I stay inside my little house with my mother keeping a close eye on me, but sometimes late at night I wish I was back in that place, as odd as that may seem.
Staring out the front window, I find myself looking for that black car I associate with him. Has he driven by since that day five weeks ago when he let me go and I ran away wondering if I’d ever forget him?
I wonder what he does with his days now. Does his life change with the seasons like so many people’s do? Has he been cooped up in that apartment of his in the heat wave that’s settled in over the northeast in the past few weeks?
I glance out at the flowers I planted back in the spring that dot my front yard now, and I notice someone’s walked over one since the last time I looked. Has he come to check on me late at night and kicked his boots through them, inadvertently stomping on a daisy on his way to the porch to look in through the front window where I now sit?
No. That’s never happened. He left that day to go back to his world just like I went back to mine.
“Sophie, honey, what are you wearing tonight?” my mother asks from the dining room.
I look over at her sitting at the table with her cup of tea and cranberry scone and shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not a black tie affair or anything like that, is it?”
My tiny attempt at humor seems to confuse her. “Well, no. It’s nothing like that. I just think you should wear something nice since it’s the first time you’re going to see your uncle in over ten years.”
“I’m a little surprised Daddy even wants to go to this, to be honest, Mom. They haven’t talked for so long I thought they’d never speak again.”
My observation makes her nod, like it’s something she’s thought about and can finally agree with me on. But it’s nothing but the truth. However, since my mother is convinced it was my uncle’s influence that brought me home to them, she’s persuaded my father it’s time to mend his relationship with my Uncle Victor.
“I think it’s a good thing they finally are talking again.”
What my father wants to do or what he thinks about the whole situation remains a mystery to me. I haven’t brought it up to him, and he hasn’t mentioned it to me. The two of us seem perfectly happy not to discuss what happened to me at all, in fact.
My reasons are simple. I can’t talk about it without having the truth of what I experienced with King show all over my face. I don’t know his reasons for sure, but I suspect they have to do with the utter fear that what he’s hated all his life finally touched his child and he doesn’t know how to deal with that yet.
The truth of that time at Duke’s estate is something neither of my parents know, and as much as I try to keep it alive in my mind, I’m happy to not talk about it with them. My uncle came to see me right after I returned home, but he didn’t ask what happened either. No doubt, he thinks he’s the reason behind why I was let go.
But they’re all wrong. King is the one who gave me back my life. No one else. Not Duke. Not that asshole Tap. Not my uncle.
King.
And for that, I’ll always owe him more than he can ever know. I may never have a chance to repay him, but I hope he knows how much I can’t forget the time we spent together.
My mother clears her throat, tearing me out of my thoughts and back to our conversation about what I should wear tonight to my uncle’s for a party he’s throwing to celebrate my return and his renewed relationship with his brother. I have no idea what dress I’ll choose, so I toss the question back to her.
“I don’t know. Any suggestions?” I ask, loving how excited she instantly gets at being asked her opinion.
“Oh, I think the black dress you wore to Candy’s engagement party last year would be lovely. Don’t you?” she asks, her eyes wide with anticipation as she waits to hear if I agree with her.
It’s actually a very good choice, so I smile and answer, “I do. Black sheath dress it is.”
My head swivels left and right to take in all the sights of my uncle’s mansion. Priceless works of art hang on the walls of the entryway, some sculpture that looks vaguely sexual with two figures intertwined stands in a niche in the wall that looks like it was created just for the piece, and a marble table in the center of the room that I guess cost a small fortune directs visitors past an enormous vase. And this is just the room to pass through to get to the rest of the house.
I turn to my mother as a maid dressed in a black and white uniform greets us and whisper, “I didn’t know Uncle Victor was this…”
My sentence drifts off to nothing as I try to find the right word. Rich isn’t enough to convey how much money he seems to have. Just coming up the circular driveway to this enormous home told me that. Wealthy seems inadequate to describe this place too.
Before I can find the right word, my mother chuckles in my ear and says, “Loaded?”
I look at her and smile at how cute she can be sometimes. “Yeah. Did you know?”
As she’s shaking her head no, my father joins us, and I hear him mumble in disgust, “So, I guess what they always say is wrong. Crime does pay.”
My mother and I both throw him a look that tells him we really don’t want a scene tonight. All I can think about once he says that, though, is that picture of my birthday party with my father and uncle glaring at one another in the background while my mother and I are all smiles for the camera.
From a room off to the left of the entryway, my uncle walks in to join us and I’m instantly surprised at how out of place he seems among all the artwork and expensive furniture. Dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a pale blue dress shirt, he looks more like a middle manager at some company than some big crime boss. His hair is short and not slicked back, like I expected it to look, and he seems younger than I imagined he’d be since he’s my father’s older brother.
“Isabella, I’m so happy you came,” he says full of charm as he leans forward to kiss my mother on the cheek. “You’re as beautiful as you were when I saw you last all those years ago.”
My mother blushes like she always does when someone compliments her. “It’s very good to see you again, Victor. Thank you for inviting us and for all you’ve done for us.”
I hear my father groan as I wait for the fireworks to start. I had hoped we’d get through more of this night than just walking through the front door.
Turning to look at my father, my uncle smiles and it seems genuine. Extending his hand to shake my father’s, he says, “The long lost prodigal brother back once more. It’s good to see you again, Joey.”
No one ever calls my father Joey. He bristles when anyone refers to him as Joe. My father is very much a Joseph. Always has been and always will be. This night is starting off on all the wrong feet.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see my mother’s face contort into an expression of panic. She reaches out for his hand and gives it a squeeze I know is meant to let him know she really wants him to play nice with his brother. When I look at my father, though, his expression says the last thing he wants to be is nice at this moment.
“Victor.”
And that’s it. In the flattest tone possible, my father lets his brother know how his opinion about him hasn’t changed in the least, even if he believes he had a part in rescuing me just over one month ago.
Thankfully, my uncle doesn’t seem offended when he turns to face me. “And Sophie, my beautiful niece. What a lovely young woman you’ve grown up to be.”
His gaze focuses on my cheek where the cut had been when he saw me right after I returned home. As I have since the day I returned, I wear long sleeves to cover the scars from what Tap did to my arms, so he has no idea to look there. When he realizes no scar has been left on my face as evidence of my time at the h
ands of one of his rivals, his smile grows broader.
“I’m so happy to see you’re in such good shape after all you’ve been through,” he says as he leans forward to kiss the spot just below on my cheek.
“Hi, Uncle Victor. Thank you for having us here tonight. This place is stunning. I didn’t realize you had such a beautiful home.”
My flattery strikes just the right note with him, and he beams his approval for my compliments. Taking me by the arm, he says to my parents, “You two take a seat in the living room. I want to spend a few minutes with my niece.”
Once we’re out of earshot, he says, “Let me show you around. I rarely get to show off my house like this. I hope you’ll humor an old man.”
I look back at my parents and see the two warring sides of their love for me. My mother looks as pleased as punch, like I’ve just been chosen Miss America, and my father looks panicked, like I’ve just been carried off by a shark.
“I’m so happy I was able to help with that situation, Sophie. As soon as I heard Duke’s men had gotten hold of you, I let him know there would be hell to pay if you weren’t returned home immediately. Thankfully, you weren’t there even a few hours more or you would have been caught in the middle of a nightmare.”
Confused by what he means, I look at him as he shows off some priceless tapestry hanging in the hallway to his study. “A nightmare? Worse than being grabbed off the street at night?”
My question stops him, and he looks at me strangely, like he can’t believe what I said. “Well, that was terrible, of course, but being trapped in the middle of a massacre would have been a true nightmare, Sophie. You’re very lucky I got you out of there when I did.”
Massacre? The word sends chills down my spine, and suddenly I feel like I’m going to be sick. Was King in the massacre? Is he dead?
I can’t ask my uncle, but I have to know. My head begins to pound as my stomach roils at the thought that he’s gone.
“Can I have a glass of water? I’m not feeling so good right now.”