Naked or Dead

by Murphy, A. E.

  And my bitch of a sister snoozing beside me.

  Willow

  “Shhhhh,” I say, giggling as Nokosi lifts the metal barrel and carries it out of the garage. He grunts with each step but that’s unsurprising because it looks really fucking heavy.

  “What’s in here? A dead body?”

  “It was here when we moved in so maybe,” I reply, dragging my eyes from the top of his bulging shoulders to his ass. He really does have a great ass.

  “Did you just check me out?” Nok asks, smirking at me over his shoulder. I fight the urge to grunt at him, sneer at him, grab his handsome face and push my thumbs into his eyes until he stops wriggling.

  Instead I just shrug. “My sister has good taste.”

  He laughs and carefully places the barrel behind the garage. Only making a little bit of noise.

  “What if she wants to use the garage before we’re done?”

  “She won’t, I’ll make sure of it,” I state, looking around the near-empty garage space when we reenter.

  I start sweeping the floor with a heavy broom, but apparently, I’m taking too long because Nokosi snatches the broom from me and nods to a chair in the corner.

  “Sit down,” he insists. “I got this.”

  Chivalrous… a redeeming quality for the most part. Doesn’t make me stop hating him though.

  “What’s it like living on a reservation?”

  “Same as living in town, except we have more trees and less road signs.”

  I laugh a little. He’s funny, even when he doesn’t mean to be. “Do you get many wild animals?”

  “Hell yeah.” He stops sweeping and wipes his forehead on the bottom of his shirt. I blink when I catch a glimpse of his six-pack abs. I want to low whistle and ask him to strip for me like some skeevy guy in a strip club tucking dollar bills into a woman’s G-string. “Bears, wolves, mountain lions, skunks, squirrels… racoons.”

  “I hate racoons.”

  “Feisty little fucks,” he agrees and goes back to sweeping.

  He turns his back to me and I consider how easy it would be to take the thin belt from my dated jeans and wrap it around his neck. It’d be so easy to kill him, well… not easy but not difficult either. He’s let his guard down with me, sees me as nothing but a sick, weak girl. Probably thinks I’m attracted to him. If only he knew.

  “So, what’s wrong with you exactly? Your sister doesn’t talk about it.”

  I’m surprised by his question, and the fact that my sister hasn’t told anybody what I have. Though she has been acting strange lately. Is she embarrassed by me?

  No. She loves me. She needs me. She’d never choose him over me. Still… I can’t be too careful. It’s better to remove the temptation from her path than to dangle it and take the risk.

  “I have a brain tumor in the frontal lobe. It’s been growing since birth so it’s pretty rooted in there.”

  He stops, looking sad for a long moment. “That sucks.”

  “It is what it is.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I get headaches sometimes and the medication I take can make me space out and sicky, but I’m good otherwise. It’s the seizures that are the worst but they’re very infrequent.”

  He leans the broom against the wall and crouches by the pile he made with a dustpan and brush. “And there’s no cure? No way they can remove it?”

  “No, brain surgery would kill me, it’s surprising that I’m even alive while it’s in there.”

  Almost-amber eyes search my face, a sadness to them that just intensifies with each passing second. “I couldn’t imagine losing my brother. I couldn’t imagine my brother losing me.”

  Something painful jolts in my chest at his words. Perhaps he understands me better than I thought.

  “How long do you have left?”

  “Months, maybe,” I murmur, looking at the ground and frowning. I lose myself in my thoughts and memories, cherishing each one for a moment, allowing myself to feel them all.

  My fifth birthday where I started to insist on having my own birthday cake because I didn’t want to be the same as Lilith all the time.

  When she looked after me after I broke my leg at six years old. How she was always good at hair and I was always bad at it, so she’d do my hair every day before school so I didn’t feel out of place.

  The time she beat up a kid called Adeline for being mean to me about my inability to read and write very well. My sister sat with me for hours teaching me to read after that. She said she’d never let anyone hurt me. She said she’d protect me, and she always did. We always protected each other.

  We loved each other so much. I love her so much.

  I jump when a hand lands on my shoulder. I’m about to bite it, sink my teeth through the flesh and rip, until I see Nokosi’s concerned eyes on mine.

  “You okay?” he asks softly, his demeanor and tone not matching his rough exterior.

  I nod but don’t shrug him off. His touch doesn’t completely repulse me right now. In fact, I find it quite soothing.

  “I lost you there for a minute. Where’d you go?”

  I tap my temple. “Memories. Just cherishing them… while I still can.” The last part was meant as a joke, but it falls flat, his frown is proof of that. “Lighten up a bit, Nok, tis all grand.”

  He doesn’t reply, he just walks to the dilapidated shelving unit and starts to break it apart.

  I join him, standing beside him and holding the metal rod that connects the corners as he kicks the shelves off. I do it too and it’s therapeutic when my foot breaks apart the flimsy, aged wood.

  I giggle, feeling free of pain and worries as I destroy something other than the people around me.

  When it’s rubble and garbage on the ground, Nokosi turns to me and we slap our hands together in celebration.

  Then comes the cleanup and Nokosi laughs when I get a convenient headache and must sit down for this part.

  This time when he catches me checking him out, I don’t look away. I wink, mimicking the casual arrogant smirk that he often displays on his handsome face.

  He rolls his eyes, a handsome and playful smile on his face, and continues with his job, leaving at midnight to go home and get some rest.

  * * *

  Lilith

  “You keep yawning,” I point out, resting my chin on Nok’s bare chest as his fingertips trail lazily up and down my spine.

  “Didn’t sleep well last night,” he mumbles, shifting slightly beneath me to find a more comfortable position. His other hand pushes my hair behind my ear. “I think I did a good job.”

  I agree, looking at the pink strands of hair that fall over my shoulder and tickle his chest, “You did. I’m glad I asked.”

  “Stinks like fuck, though. Dad’s going to keep the windows open for a month.”

  I giggle. “Your dad loves me, he’ll forgive me.”

  Nok holds his pink-stained hand up to the light and sighs. “If you ever tell anybody I helped you dye your hair, I’ll shave your eyebrows while you sleep.”

  I look at his trimmed dark hair around his dick after lifting the blanket. “I’m still disappointed it didn’t even slightly tint your pubes.” His half-hard cock gives a little twitch as I assess it.

  “If you ever tell anybody I let you do that I’ll shave your hair as well as your eyebrows.”

  I laugh as I bury my face into his neck and drape my leg over his. “I still can’t believe you let me do it.”

  I just wanted to make his dick look as unicorn as possible, but the pink didn’t do anything but stain the skin at the base of it. I’m still in shock that he let me, but then I was sucking him and kissing him as I did it. Not an easy task in any shape or form. It’s how he ended up with dye all over his hands because he forgot I had it in my hair and grabbed my head when he came on my tongue.

  So fucking hot.

  When he yawns again, I kiss his cheekbone. “You can sleep if you want to? I won’t mind.” />
  He blinks slowly, his eyes drifting closed before I even finished my sentence.

  I watch him drift away from me, a longing in my heart to feel the kind of peace he’s displaying. I’ll never feel that kind of peace, there’s a noose around my neck and a guillotine ready as a backup. I’m shackled to my past and the horrific things I’ve done. It’ll catch up to me eventually, and when it does, I dread to think.

  When I’m with Nokosi and he’s smiling at me, looking at me, talking to me, touching me, I do forget. If only for a little while.

  My eyes close too and I lose myself in the same slumber boat that ferried him away moments ago.

  I’ve never felt safer than when I’m in his arms.

  “Lily!” Willow calls. “Lily, come on. Hurry up.”

  I sit up, feeling clammy from the warm air.

  “Lily, seriously, Mom’s waiting for us, she’s getting annoyed.”

  I climb out of bed in my nightgown and race to the window. My ottoman is beneath it, the fabric covering made from a dark green velvet, full of my toys and stuffed animals. I rest on it on my knees and peer out into the darkness. I swear Willow’s voice came from the front yard. But why is she awake at this time? She’s scared of the dark, there’s no way she’d go out there alone.

  “Lily,” a hissed voice comes from behind me, breathing across my neck and across the back of my head.

  I jolt and turn, pressing my shoulder blades to the windowsill.

  My room is empty and still, there’s nobody in sight but the shadows painting the pink walls.

  “Willow?” I whisper, clearing my childish thoughts. “Willow, is that you?”

  I step down from the ottoman, letting my toes wriggle in the soft plush rug on my floor. My heart rate spikes. I don’t feel good.

  I run across the room and dive into my bed, clammier now than before and I pull the blanket over my face, breathing harshly in the dark pocket of space between my knees and head.

  Footsteps creak in the hall. Tapping sounds on the door. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. A constant noise, like the point of metal hitting wood.

  When my door creaks open, I cover my mouth and stifle my sob. I’m so frightened. So scared.

  “Lily,” Willow whispers, pulling black the blanket suddenly, showing me the room now full of angry eyes.

  Men twice my size stand along the walls glaring at me, their bodies dripping blood, their necks snapped, their eyes lifeless.

  I scream but she covers my mouth with her hand, stopping me from making a noise. I thrash as she climbs into bed with me and presses my face into her chest.

  “It’s okay,” she soothes. “Just ignore them. Look at me. Ignore them. They can’t hurt you. They can’t hurt you. They’re dead already. Ignore them.”

  I sniffle and sob, trying to keep quiet, terrified they’ll get me.

  “They’re dead,” she breathes. “They can’t hurt you now. They can’t hurt any of us.”

  I groan and roll onto my back, feeling sweaty and gross. My heart is pounding so loudly I can hear it over my ragged breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Nokosi asks, leaning over me to brush my hair from my sweaty forehead.

  I bat his hand away and look around his bedroom, different to the one in my dream. “I need a shower.”

  “What is it? Talk to me.”

  “You don’t talk to me,” I point out petulantly and he doesn’t argue with that. “Look, I just need a moment to gather myself. Okay?” Without waiting for an answer, I pull on his T-shirt and make my way downstairs. Nash is sitting on the couch drinking a beer with Joseph.

  “Hey, pretty lady,” Joseph calls but I ignore them both and lock myself in the bathroom.

  I can’t breathe. The dream… it felt so real… it’s my paranoia speaking to me, telling me that my time here is limited. Nokosi will leave me when he knows what I’ve done.

  I let the cold water splash over me, it’s fucking freezing, but it helps to rid me of my nervous shaking, only to replace it with cold trembles.

  Those I can deal with though.

  Nausea roils my stomach so badly I have to fight the urge to vomit.

  When I make the water warm, I’m feeling a little better though not much. It’s not often I dream but when I do it’s usually a fucking nightmare like that, or something equally as disturbing.

  I hate it.

  There’s a knock on the door. “You okay in there?”

  I don’t answer. I just don’t want to be around people right now. I need space to sort my head out.

  Exiting the bathroom, I move past Nokosi, keeping my eyes forward, and head upstairs to get my things. Nok follows hot on my heels.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I just need space,” I admit, hopping on one foot as I pull on my pants. “It’s nothing you did.”

  “Hey,” he coos softly, taking my elbow and turning me to face him. His eyes search my face for something… anything. “What is it?”

  “I just… I need to go home.”

  I leave my bra and wifebeater that I wore here and race from the house with car keys in hand.

  Nokosi watches me go from his front door and I feel guilty for a moment, but then the feeling in my chest intensifies again and there’s nowhere I want to be than with my sister.

  She’s waiting for me, likely sensing my distress from the second I park the car outside, and we curl into bed together as my anxieties crush my chest, making it impossible for me to breathe.

  “We killed them,” I whisper as she holds me tight. “We killed them, Willow.”

  She strokes my hair. “I know but they deserved it. They can’t hurt us anymore.”

  I inhale her scent; she smells like sugarplums and vanilla. It’s sweet and soothing and I don’t want to ever be anywhere else ever again.

  The memories resurface, awful memories of her lying beside me, reaching out to my hand as they forced a vodka bottle down her throat, chipping her tooth as they pushed it in. Her eyes were wide and bulging. She couldn’t breathe.

  I scream into her chest, scream louder than I ever have, scream until my throat is sore and tired and my voice nonexistent.

  They defiled us. They ruined us.

  They took everything from us.

  “I’ll always be here for you,” Willow breathes against my hair. “I promise.”

  “No, you won’t,” I cry, hating myself for being so weak. I don’t cry. It’s not me. Willow was the crier, she was the baby, she was the weak one.

  The sun set an hour ago, as I was driving home from Nok’s, it took all my happiness with it, plunging it into the darkness as my fear and grief overwhelm me. It’s not fair. I didn’t ask to be attacked. I didn’t ask for any of it.

  When there’s a knock on the door I’m not in the mood to answer it, but then I hear the sound of a radio and a deep voice I recognize but can’t place.

  “If somebody doesn’t answer this door, I’m afraid I’m going to have to break it down.”

  I scramble out of bed so fast I trip and almost face-plant the floor. I stumble down the hall, down the stairs, and grasp the handle, all the while crying out, “Just a second!”

  When I pull open the door a flashlight beams its brightness directly into my eyes.

  “Shit,” I curse, blinking and using my hand to shield myself. “Dude. What the fuck?”

  “Sorry, miss,” the officer says, lowering the light and looking over my shoulder.

  I recognize him immediately and glance at my sister who is sitting on the stairs. She looks as tense as I feel.

  “Officer Deacon, right?” I put on the charm, fiddling with my hair that’s likely a nest on my head. I’m so not attractive enough right now to try and be charming.

  “Ahhh, the little mud shark,” he says and grins as his pale eyes creep down my body, stopping at my cleavage for a long moment. “I’m here to investigate a disturbance.”

  “A disturbance?” I ask, moving my body slightly behind the door for protecti
on. I’m wearing nothing but a pair of Nok’s boxers and his T-shirt. I’m not dressed enough for this. “What disturbance?”

  “Somebody reported screaming coming from your house,” he shines the light into the dark hall.

  FUCK.

  “Yeah… I’m sorry about that. It was my sister.” The lie falls easily from my mouth and I see my sister slink upstairs out of eyeshot.

  “Your sister?”

  I nod and let my eyes fill with tears. “She’s… umm… she has a tumor in her brain. It’s terminal. It puts pressure on certain spots in her head and can make her a bit loopy.”

  His cautious eyes become sympathetic and he lowers his flashlight and his guard further. “I’m sorry to hear that, and while I sympathize, she can’t just be screaming willy-nilly.”

  “It’s a rare thing, sir, she gets hallucinations sometimes and…” My chin wobbles convincingly. “She thinks she sees things that aren’t there.” I let out a choked sob. “I’m sorry, sir. It’s just been a long few weeks and she’s spiraling and it’s hard to watch.”

  “Maybe she should be in some kind of hospice…” he mumbles, looking uncomfortable by my display of emotions. “Am I okay to come in and look around? It’d give me peace of mind.”

  “You can,” I pull the door but then stop. “But please, be quiet, if she wakes up again now… I can’t medicate her again.”

  He hesitates, looking over my shoulder again. He displays kindness but oozes something else, something more ominous.

  I don’t like him. I don’t feel protected by him.

  “Where are your parents?”

  “Mom’s at work, Dad’s dead.”

  “Wow, you’re a real tragedy, aren’t you?”

  I lift my shoulder. “You could say that. I promise I’ll be quicker with her meds this time. I’m not the best at it. Mom will be so mad if she hears of how loud I let her get.”

  “Ah, parents can be hard on us, especially when they’re under pressure. I imagine having a sick child can make us a bit snappier than most.”