by Raven Scott
If he didn’t find her, what would Theo do to me because I was her roommate? I couldn’t imagine that Mateo was pissed because of just a one-night stand. More than likely, Sylvie must’ve stolen something from him, and he wanted to get it back or punish her, or both.
I was the person closest to her, and that’s always who the bad guys go for.
“He’s probably a drug lord or something.” My expression soured at my own grumble, and I shook my head as I weaved between street lights. If there was one thing I’d learned in this town, it was to have a really good Mexican dialect, and Mateo’s sucked. What little Spanish he’d spoken during those two hours gave me the impression that he probably learned it in high school or something, and might not have ever been to Mexico at all.
In this town, Spanish was a more popular language than English. Just sixty miles away was the border and Mexi-Cali, and when entering a store, most salespeople greeted me in Spanish, not English.
Luckily, I knew six languages, courtesy of libraries, of course.
My shadow cast long in front of me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find those same, intensely bright headlights glaring at me. The car puttered along slower than I was riding, and I nibbled on my bottom lip in uncertainty. In the four years I’d worked at the club, I’d never once seen a car so late at night on this road, and it wasn’t trying to pass me. Worry gnawed at my gut, and my heartbeat a little harder as I pumped the pedals to speed up.
Of course, it has to be the night that I have almost three thousand dollars on my person. Mateo gave Marcella, Clary, and I three grand each, and I’d made good tips after they’d left. Roge’s cut dipped me under, but who was I to complain? He only took twenty-five percent of a night— that was a deal of a lifetime.
“Crap . . . crap . . . ” I took one more turn that would lead me in the wrong direction, and the car followed me. Squeezing the break on my bike, I pulled to the side and hopped off my bike. My adrenaline spiked when the vehicle parked as well, and I unzipped my fanny pack to pull out my knife and flick it open. “You better start driving, buddy!”
The driver’s side door swung open, and I squinted to try to make out anything beyond the headlights. Tension zinged through me, and my muscles gorged on anxiety as I struggled to take deep, calming breaths. I’d been in my fair share of fights over the years, and I clenched my jaw hard.
“Stop acting all big and bad.” Deep and dark, the baritone wrapped around me in a vice, and my breath hitched as a body shuffled to block one of the lights. Theo’s silhouette sharpened from the glare, and I tightened my grip on my knife. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“I’m not expecting you to.” Cutting me off, Theo must’ve had a remote for the car auxiliaries because the lights suddenly turned off, and I winced. Before I could blink back the colorful spots, he was in front of me, and the hairs on my neck stood up as goosebumps pocked my arms and across my chest. So softly, he dragged his fingertip down my jaw, and my heart hammered furiously at how fast he was. “You won’t be needing this.”
A huge hole opened up in my chest when Theo pulled his hand back, and my knife hung from around his pinky. His eyes seemed so bright, and I automatically took a step back as weakness assaulted my knees.
“Don’t be scared . . . unless you have something to hide, Illya. Answer my questions, and you’ll get your dinky knife back and be on your way.” Crossing my arms tightly over my chest, the fine hairs on my face bristled when Theo reached to cup the back of my head. He was very gentle, but his eyes were violent and hard, and a quake assaulted my spine. “Where is she? I know you know her, that bitch Sylvie.”
“I don’t know.” Five fingers curled into a fist in my hair threateningly, and I gasped sharply as Theo jostled my head a little bit, just enough to know he meant business. My eyes met his, and my mouth dried at how fiery and lively his orbs were even now. “I said I don’t know. I . . . I caught her buying drugs at the store earlier, and I kicked her out. I don’t know where she went. I made a video just in case.”
“Show me.” Nodding hastily, I unzipped my fanny pack, and Theo eased his grip on my hair as an amused chuff rumbled from his throat. “Why are you wearing that thing?”
“It’s harder to steal.” Answering the question, I just wanted Theo to leave me alone, and I pulled out my phone to unlock the screen. My hand shook, and I held out the bright screen before tapping the ‘play’ button with a stiff finger. “I kicked her out about two hours after this happened, maybe an hour and a half. I don’t know where she went, I swear.”
“Uh-huh.” The absentminded response came just before Theo glanced at my phone, and I tensed when he frowned at the screen. “Did you really think I’d follow you just to attack you?”
“Yeah, you did stare at me for two hours straight.” Stop asking questions and let me go. Oh, my God . . . Dark eyes snapped to mine, and I stiffened when they flared with offense. Theo’s jaw ticked a few times before he grunted, and the moment slid by on pins and needles until he ducked to watch the video.
“Right. Do you know this guy?”
“No, he’s a different dealer than the one Sylvie had before I helped her get clean.” Theo had no accent beyond the typical American one, and I couldn’t even be mad right now as he started kneading my scalp. Sucking in a sharp breath, a cold sweat broke out under my clothes, and he jutted his chin out at me with an expectant grunt.
“Replay it.” The video couldn’t have been longer than twenty seconds, and I swiped back the time bar at the bottom of the screen. “How long has she been clean?”
“Four years. I told her if she ever used again, I’d kick her out of my life. I’m trying really hard. I can’t be with someone that’s not trying just as hard.” I couldn’t help the bitter betrayal that bled into my tone, and Theo’s cheek twitched in the shadow of the screen. “This . . . this is all I know, okay, so . . . you’re gonna leave me alone, right?”
“Don’t count on it.” Once again, Theo’s eyes met mine, and I sucked in a sharp whistle of a breath when he jerked my head. Squeezing my eyes shut, a whimper lodged in my throat, and my heart tried to burst through my ribs. My skin crawled when he bumped his nose to my temple, and his clean-shaven chin brushed my ear. “Next time, I’ll get you to dance for me, Illya.”
A shudder raked my shoulders, and Theo unfurled his fist from my hair to walk to his car and speed off. Only when I couldn’t hear it anymore did a faint exhale escape me, and my knees gave out on me as I crumpled to the pavement.
He kept my knife.
7
Theo
My knee bounced hard as I glared at a picture of this chick, and I rocked back on the cot to flop back my head and scowl at the ceiling. The paint was peeling and the corners were starting to seep with mold. How could anyone fucking live here? There wasn’t a single laminate floorboard that wasn’t picking up, and it reeked of weed that’d seeped in from other apartments.
Jesus.
I’d hazard a guess that Illya and Sylvie thought this was heaven compared to some places, and I hoisted myself up to turn my gaze back to the photo in my hand. This was the only picture of Sylvie that I could find, and it’d been packed in Illya’s stuff and tucked under her ‘bed’. In the photo, the brunette was eating ice cream in grainy quality, and I had to really hunt through everything Illya owned for it.
Clenching and releasing my jaw, I tapped the photo against my palm absently as I glanced around the one-room apartment. There was nothing to give me any indication about anything. The only possible lead I had was the reusable bags on the counter. Of course, I already knew that the grocery store was a dead-end because I’d had someone posted there for days. Sauntering over to the cabinets, I hooked a finger around the handle to pop it open, and there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Cat food. Illya must feed the strays. She must’ve had thirty cans of this shit, all neatly stacked, all the
labels perfectly facing the same way, and I shut the door to lean on the counter heavily. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I swiped the screen and punched in my code awkwardly. I could barely bend my fingers anymore, and I ground my teeth as I struggled to navigate to Mateo’s contact.
“What!” He was pissed again, and I didn’t lift the speaker to my ear before Mateo angrily screamed through it. I mean, I got why he was frantic to find Sylvie before she could do too much hard to herself, but I really didn’t think she was worth this.
“The roommate’s a bust. She’s not here, and neither is her stuff. We’re going to have to find her the old fashioned way.” My gruff response earned me a growl of frustration, and I frowned as I glanced around the dank, musty place. “I’ll head over to the south end in a minute.”
“I don’t care what you do, Theo, fucking find her! Today!” Mateo hung up on me, and I scowled darkly as I slid my phone back into my jean pocket. The past few days, he’d gotten worse and worse, and I was starting to burn my fuse with him. There was nothing Mateo could do to me. If he tried anything, I’d fucking kill him without hesitation and move on.
All this over a chick . . . how pathetic.
Well, that’s not entirely accurate. Leaving the apartment, I still had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that Mateo was stupid enough to get a fucking debtee pregnant. That’s what all this was about, after all. Why he was so desperate to find her? Sylvie’s dumbfuck self came to Mateo after a few weeks and said she was pregnant, didn’t know what to do, yadda yadda. After he bought her a nice apartment downtown and all that, she fucked off for some reason I didn’t really care about.
My thoughts came to a screeching halt at the hard thud of cans crashing to the floor, and my head whipped up. Illya stood at the bottom the rickety stairs, her bright, hazel eyes wide and her purple hair fluffy and bristling around her surprised features. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and my eyelid twitched as I scanned her through narrowed pupils.
“Hello?” Idiot. Clearing my throat roughly, I took the stairs, and she gasped before looking down and dropping to her knees to grab up all her shit. Illya wasn’t fast enough, and I knelt down to grab a can and hold it out for her with my jacked up palm. Uncertainty rippled across her face, but she slowed reached out to take the can of corn. A spasm ripped through my forearm from the sudden release of pressure, and my two fingers twitched involuntarily as she dropped the can into one of her two bags.
“Thanks.” My lips thinned as pain shot through my palm. Even after six years, I hadn’t learned not to use my right hand, and that can of corn proved to be too much. Sitting back on the step, I gripped my right wrist hard and grunted in acknowledgment of Illya’s grumble. A prickly sensation bolted up my arm, and I tore my eyes off her to watch my muscles roiling under my skin.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have skipped the PT.” I’d gotten my hand blown off in Iraq, but after being discharged, I didn’t keep up with therapy like I should’ve. I was left-handed, so I didn’t think it’d be such a big fucking deal. Surprise furrowed Illya’s brows at my mumble, and I ground my next words through my teeth. “So, you really did kick her out.”
I’d deliberately avoided mentioning that Illya was Sylvie’s roommate because Mateo would probably not take it well. Her eyes sparkled in alarm, and I couldn’t help a chuff as they flickered up the stairs behind me. My good hand shook a little as I reached into my pocket, and I held out the photo I’d taken.
“I’m borrowing this.” But she didn’t look up as a sharp contraction tightened my muscles and curled my fingers, and Illya gasped in what I guessed was horrified shock. Hissing as tingles bolted up my forearm, I tensed as my palm twitched viciously, and I dropped the photo in my lap to squeeze my wrist.
“A-are you okay?” Illya almost sounded like she didn’t want to ask the question, but I nodded sharply as goosebumps swept up my arm. It’d pass— it always did— and her eyes met mine with skeptical concern as I took a shallow breath. “Did you find Sylvie yet?”
“I have to find her today or Mateo’s gonna throw a fit. He’s an idiot. I told him if he ever tries anything stupid with me, I’d shoot him in his pretty face, so he’ll take it out on so— ” Sucking in a sharp breath, my explanation caught in my throat as the convulsions in my hand rippled up my arm. “Shit.”
“Uh . . . okay.” Realization crept up on me, and I cocked my head as Illya crouched to hug her knees awkwardly. She wanted to go upstairs and lock the door behind her, but she felt responsible because I’d picked up that can with my bad hand. Sweet. “I haven’t seen her. To be honest, I thought Sylvie would’ve come crawling back, but because she hasn’t, I think . . . ”
“That she’s holed up in a drug den somewhere on the south side? Yeah, I figured that out, too.” Her tank top strap started sliding down her shoulder, and I unfurled my fingers from my wrist to reach and straighten it. Goosebumps blanketed her shoulder and bare arm, and she tensed under her soft skin as red climbed up into her face. “You’re coming with me. I’ll let you go when we find her.”
The demand slipped out thoughtlessly, and Illya’s eyes met mine to flash with sour distaste and regret. The muscles in her neck strained when I cupped her chin, and I tilted her head back and to the left.
Not for any reason, just to see if she’d let me.
“What color are your eyes, really?” Last time, Illya had green eyes, and now, they were hazel, but I could tell they were fake once I’d paid a little attention. The tightness in my arm started to ease, and I squeezed her chin when she pursed her lips thinly in defiance. “Tell me.”
“They’re green.” Surprise twitched my cheek, and I released Illya’s face to rub my spasming palm with my thumb. She rolled her jaw slightly, her thick lips parting, and a harsh exhale escaped me as the pain in my arm finally started to die down. “Okay, so . . . I have to work in a couple hours, so . . . ”
“Fine. Go put your shit upstairs. I’ll drive fast.” Glancing down at my hand, Illya licked her lips in pensiveness, and I hoisted myself up to flex my stiff fingers. “Hurry up.”
8
Illya
“Stay here.” Shutting off his car, Theo pulled the keys out of the ignition with his left hand, and I sunk into the seat even as he cast me a sharp glance. “Don’t run away. I’ll be pissed.”
“I’m not gonna run away.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I frowned as I gazed out the window at the rundown, unkempt house we’d stopped at. Theo stared at me for a few, slow seconds, and I huffed childishly at how sharply this day had turned from okay to downright bad. When I didn’t look back, he got out of the car, and only briefly did the notion of running away flash through my head.
Theo knew where I worked and lived, though, so there was no point but to suffer through his. The sooner he found Sylvie, the sooner he’d leave me alone. Hopefully. Right now, we were just going door to door searching for her, and I pulled my phone out of my fanny pack to check the time. I had work in three hours, but I was seriously considering lying about it and saying I had to in at six p.m. instead of seven p.m.
“Why did you do something so stupid, disappear, and still manage to get me involved somehow.” Mumbling through clenched teeth, I rested my head against the seat as I watched Theo walk up to the door. He didn’t knock, just strong-armed the barrier open, and my mind swiftly turned to the little episode at my apartment.
Obviously, Theo had been through some stuff. I mean, he had two fingers missing from one of his hands. Now, in the cold light of day, I noticed a scar running up the side of his face, and his nose had clearly been broken more than a few times. I couldn’t help the curiosity I had surrounding him, but I surely wasn’t going to ask about it.
If I asked about Theo’s scars, maybe he’d want to see mine, and I just wasn’t going through that. Not for him. Not for anyone.
“Ugh . . . ” I wished the seat would open up and suck me in, and I reached to push my palms into my eyes. The ruined skin on my chest pric
kled as my lungs deflated in an exasperated sigh, and I ran my hands down my face with a loud groan. “This sucks.”
I was stupid to think, as the days passed by uneventfully, that I was done with Theo, and I scowled darkly. If I never saw him again, it’d be too soon. Who cares if he’s muscular and a little aloof and actually a human, not a robot wearing human skin.
To be fair to Theo, he didn’t break into my apartment by busting down my door. He just picked the locks, and I gave him points for that, at least.
Seeing him in pain with his hand also gave me some closure that he was a little bit human, and my heart throbbed in my chest. I couldn’t imagine the struggles Theo had to go through every single day, and I turned my gaze to my hands to flex my fingers. There were more scars, I knew; there just had to be more. Could I go all day without using two of my fingers? Could I even go an hour?
I didn’t want to feel anything for Theo, but as much as I wanted him gone, sympathy still stung the backs of my eyes. In that regard, at least, he was just like me, and I pulled up my tank top to frown under furrowed brows. The thin layer of bandages wrapped around my torso hid the worst of me, and I winced when I pressed down on my abdomen. After thirteen years, the constant pain hadn’t faded away, I’d just gotten used to it.
Was that what Theo went through with his hand? Or was his hand the exception to his other scars?
“Why am I even thinking about this? I don’t want to be involved with him. He’s bad news. I have a hard enough time without worrying about someone else.” Grumbling, my frown darkened as Theo emerged out of the house out of the corner of my eye, and I sat up a little. This was only our third house checked, and he was scowling as he walked alone towards his car.
“Someone was sober enough to recognize her, a couple blocks away.” Slamming the door, Theo worked the key into the ignition and twisted awkwardly, and the car rumbled to life. “I don’t really trust tweakers, but we’ll check it out anyway.”