by M. C. Cerny
He continued dictating the direction of the conversation. “Or … I can kill your brother slowly and hurt his pretty little girlfriend.”
“They haven’t done anything wrong,” I whispered.
“Also true.” He released me with a push and examined his perfect nails.
Every minute that passed got louder with the ticking of his fancy watch.
He glanced up at me from his devious green eyes. “I could also make sure Eddie succeeds in his military career with the connections I have. Fiona could go to school without having to juggle two or three jobs before dropping out. Such a shame for a smart girl like her to struggle, don’t you agree?”
I didn’t understand how he knew these things about us, but he seemed readily able to answer the questions I had yet to voice.
“Your brother is full of potential, and Fiona is such a smart girl.”
He mocked them. My shame and guilt mixed corrosively in my heart. Eddie and Fi could have a great future if I wasn’t hell-bent on screwing things up. If I hadn’t gotten caught.
Stupidity spoke for me. “What kind of choice is that, you monster?”
My free hand grabbed for the nurse call button, but he flung it away. Nothing reached my fingers except empty desperation. The plastic button cracked on the floor, and my heart raced in terror knowing he would crush me given half the chance.
“It’s the only one I’m giving you. You have no idea what kind of monster I can be. Think about it, Elizabeth.” He squeezed tightly, and the noose slipped firmly around my neck. “Think about it real hard, and I’ll be back in the morning.”
He walked out of the room, shutting the door softly. I listened to it click and knew I had been locked in with no choice. My other ankle throbbed, and I was certain the bruises would match. Twinsies. I was effectively hobbled in my prison. Giving the room a cursory glance, I realized I wasn’t in a normal wing of the hospital reserved for the dirt-poor like myself. A calming palette of color covered the walls, and the bedding was softer somehow; not the scratchy dry cotton of the emergency room with the overwhelming smell of piss and antiseptic you normally associated with a medical facility in the ward.
I searched for the call button and found the wire tangled in my sheets, pulling it up to my reach. My finger caressed the top of the broken red button, debating on pressing it. No one could help me now, but I clutched that cord as a lifeline. It was all I had even if it was unreliable.
Hours passed staring at the ceiling, and I knew I had no other choice. I wasn’t about to let my protective older brother pay for my mistakes, or let that man hurt Fiona who had been the closest thing to a sister and motherly figure I’d ever had.
Life wasn’t fair. I needed to play a careful game, if I didn’t want to end up six feet under like a crack whore nobody cared about in Potter’s field. I didn’t want to be a nobody from the ward, thrown away and forgotten. I didn’t want anyone else to pay for my sins. Wasn’t this what Father Morely had warned me about presiding over my mother’s funeral? Evil in the heart must be vanquished. Eventually, I drifted off to sleep courtesy of my morphine drip.
“Little birdie…” Musty breath permeated my nostrils, filling my empty stomach with dread.
My eyes popped open to find my demon’s henchman invading the private room.
“Help! Somebody!” I yelled.
I tried to grab the clicker button for the nurses’ station, but it was yanked from my hand. The asshole from the alley was now crushing it in his grip.
“Remember me? I’m Derrick. I work for Mr. Huntley.” He susurrated. The warmth of his breath made me sweat.
I nodded, biting my lips so hard I drew blood. My eyes darted to the heart rate monitor that jumped erratically with my terror. I had no idea who Mr. Huntley was, but I remembered this guy clearly, and now I knew he was part of my nightmare’s crew of bullies.
“Nobody is coming to help you,” he said.
“W-what do you want?” Gasping breaths didn’t help the pain as he squeezed and twisted my middle finger painfully, jerking me up in the bed.
“Just teaching you how to be polite.”
“P-polite?” Fear and helplessness induced my stutter.
“It’s not nice to make rude gestures, little birdie.” He smiled, increasing his grip.
My finger cracked, popping under the pressure and bend of his grasp. I screamed out when he released my hand, tossing it to the bed like a used rag he was done with.
I gathered my hand against my chest as I viewed the distended digit popped at an odd angle swelling. “Oh my God, you broke it.”
His gap tooth smile grinned from ear to ear cruelly. “Next time, little birdie, you should be careful pointing fingers at people. It’s considered rude.”
I had a slew of rude behaviors I wanted to share with Derrick the Dick, but I refrained after seeing my hand busted up.
He cocked his head to the side, smirking, and walked out as a nurse walked in. He whispered to her. Her face was unsmiling as she nodded, avoiding eye contact. I didn’t know what he said to her. I was put in a wheelchair and brought to an X-ray room. I guessed that Mr. Huntley wasn’t too interested in broken toys with the way I was being cared for on his dime. However, I wasn’t given so much as an expensive Tylenol when they brought me back to my room, my finger in a special splint. At home, I would have been lucky to find a Popsicle stick and duct tape. This was obviously the royal treatment.
I was such a lucky girl…
6
Aaron
“I don’t understand why you’re going back.” Claudia grabbed clothes from the dresser, shaking and flinging them until they snapped in the air between us. If I had to hazard a guess, she was mad, specifically at me. She must have been bringing clothes back to campus despite it only being a ten minute drive away.
With angry jerking movements, she folded the clothes and dropped them on the bed next to an open suitcase. I leaned against the wall of her bedroom, arms folded over my chest, one ankle anchored over the other, my head pounding just thinking about the drama waiting for me outside this bedroom. Claudia was good at throwing tantrums behind closed doors and being passive-aggressive in public. Perfect social media pictures and captions were her thing. If I was a betting man, I would say she fast-forwarded last night into a house with two garages and a minivan. While I wanted to give her those things, I wasn’t ready yet. I didn’t appreciate her thoughtlessness despite my leaving her before. The world might cater to Claudia’s whims, but the world was depending on me to keep it safe, and I took that seriously instead of pondering which camera angle and insta-filter was warmer on the chin.
“Claudia, I have my unit waiting for me. I have a superior to report to and duties to see to,” I said with as much calm as I could muster. She wasn’t having it, and had I known popping her cherry also released her inner demon, I might have thought twice about it. A tight pussy didn’t make up for a demanding vice around my own personal autonomy.
“You said you were on leave.” She paced into her adjoining bathroom, slamming drawers.
“Correct,” I said, leaning my head farther into the room to respond.
She stepped out of the bathroom backlit by the fluorescent lights. I wanted to beckon her to come closer, engage, and disarm her foul mood. Instead, a sour expression marred her angelic face, and I heard the plea before it left her frowning mouth.
“You said you wanted to be with me.” Claudia’s lips wobbled, and I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. I cared. I deeply cared for her, but I had been thinking with my dick and the drink coursing through my veins as I revisited memory lane with the girl who literally lived next door. I glanced out the window; my house was still empty, and no hope of reinforcements were coming. Pretty sure I couldn’t have fucked this up any better.
“Also correct.” I nodded.
“Can you respond with something other than that word.” She narrowed her eyes, glaring. This was a precursor to how Claudia would look twenty years into the
future; just like her mother. Squinty eyes and no less demanding. I wondered when I had agreed to cut my balls off to do her bidding.
“Sure, but that would require we have a civilized conversation and not you pacing back and forth, demanding I put a ring on your finger.” This girl. This damn girl I loved was good at putting the cart before the horse.
“Oh my god, Aaron Jackson Henderson.” She huffed and puffed, but so far the bedroom and house were standing despite her blush red cheeks.
I moved in for the kill and backed her up against the wall, caging her in. My arms trapped her, and she clutched some sweater in front of her as if Granny’s yarn would protect her from the big bad Marine standing in front of her.
“What?” I said, snapping the last letter.
“I just thought…” Her voice trailed off, and she turned her head to look out the window.
I moved a white blonde curl off her shoulder as my lips hovered over hers. I could taste her breath. Sweet. Minty. I pressed my lips against hers, kissing her softly. She sighed into my mouth, and I sucked on her tongue in languid pulls until her body melted flush against mine. Her hips undulated, and I knew she wasn’t as mad as she pretended to be.
Little liar.
I didn’t appreciate the manipulation, but I understood it.
“Did you think I would fuck you and forget about you, Claudia Shaffer?” I nibbled her skin. She’d taken a shower when we woke up and practically pushed me out of bed to retrieve the soiled sheets from the night before. It was bad form of me to take her in her parents’ house like this, but I was no saint despite years as a missionary’s kid. I made sure it was my name she was screaming, not Jesus, or God.
“I wanted last night to be special. To mean something.” She glanced up at me with her pale gray eyes. I could fall into their cloudy depths of silver.
“It was, but I still have to report back for my next assignment. This isn’t a job where I can get time off and not show up because I feel like it.”
She bit her bottom lip, and I flicked it with my finger. She couldn’t pout or woo her way out of this with me.
A sound from the front door diverted my attention from the pretty woman in my arms.
“Claudia?” Mrs. Shaffer called up the stairs. Her voice carried down the hall like it always did when we were causing trouble, except now we were adults. We’d done a bit more than throw baseballs in the house and chase the dog between the sheets.
“Shit. My mom.” Claudia sunk into me like her limbs turned to jelly, for protection. Her mother still had that effect on her kids.
“Perfect.” I chuckled. No time like the present to say hello to the family.
“Claudia, honey, is there a reason the laundry room looks like a tornado?”
She untucked her face to call out, “Doing laundry, Mom.”
“Well, come help me with breakfast.”
“Coming,” she called back, but I stopped her by pulling on her hips.
“I’m not done with you, Claudia.” I meant it. I wanted something with her, but I couldn’t do this at the pace she expected of me. I had obligations to see through first. I wasn’t free to be with her whenever and wherever she wanted.
“It’s time for breakfast, Aaron.” She pushed past me and I watched her descend the steps, following close behind. My hands clenched remembering the feel of her ass as I pulled her under me, sliding inside her. She was tight and wet, a heady combination that had me tenting in my pants. I cupped myself and pressed down to try to alleviate the pressure. I didn’t need to be seeing her parents again sporting wood at their dining room table.
I gave Claudia a minute before I followed her down the stairs. I paused in the foyer, deciding how to play this. I wouldn’t embarrass her or make waves with her parents. Mrs. Shaffer would be on the phone real quick to tell my mother how I needed more religion in my life. I grabbed the front door and opened it dramatically, shutting it loudly and pretending I’d come from the dark house next door.
“Howdy, Shaffers!” I said loud enough to draw their attention. It wasn’t unusual for our families to come right over, the perks of being neighbors my whole life. I strolled into the kitchen, shocking everyone there.
“Aaron Henderson!” Mrs. Shaffer looked surprised to see me and wrapped me up in a perfumed hug. “Does your mother know you’re back?” She smiled coyly at me, and considering I bypassed my house to be here with Claudia, I knew she assumed something was up between us. She wasn’t half wrong, but being only half right meant she also made assumptions I had no control over.
“My parents are visiting my brothers in California right now. So I’m missing them on this leave unfortunately.”
Mrs. Shaffer frowned as she nudged me to the table where Mr. Shaffer was already seated, reading the paper. His lips smirked from behind the financial times, and I had a feeling he knew I’d been here the whole time.
“That’s too bad. Will you come to service with us?” she said, putting a plate of breakfast pastries in front of me.
“Mom, I’m sure Aaron has things to do.” Claudia sat down next to me and placed a coffee cup at my side.
“Nonsense. One always has time for the Lord.” She clucked. “Besides, you can ride with us.”
“I’d love to, Mrs. Shaffer.” I sipped my coffee as my hand moved under the table to slide between Claudia’s thighs. She clenched them tightly, and I rubbed the tip of my finger against her damp panties. She could try to hide her arousal all she wanted under her holier than thou skirt, but I was having my way with her regardless.
Mr. Shaffer cleared his throat, giving me a look, and I ceased my teasing of his daughter. Claudia was shit at hiding things, if her flushed cheeks were any indication.
“Wonderful. Your mother would love hearing you made time for church with us.”
I bet she would, almost as much as Mrs. Shaffer would love hearing how I defiled her daughter upstairs right under their noses. I hadn’t spoken much to my parents prior to my enlistment. It was a hot point of contention and remained so even though it was the one thing that turned my borderline delinquent behavior around. Their definition, not mine.
I appreciated the Hendersons taking me in and adopting me. It wasn’t easy finding your place in a family dynamic when you weren’t born into it. I’d been a wild boy. Too young to get along with the older two sons, and too old to be much of a playmate to the youngest girl. I was the sore thumb and extra row in the minivan. I might have rounded out our family number to six, but I definitely didn’t do much to bring us closer. I’d come to them from a group home with a black trash bag of belongings and an attitude the size of Alaska. It wasn’t until my brothers dragged me outside weeks later that I saw Claudia playing in her backyard. She was having a tea party outside, her little gingerbread house trimmed in white. She looked so clean, perfect, like piped icing on a cake in her pretty dress. I stopped playing ball to walk over to the fence. She joined me at the gate and said hello, offering me a cup of pretend tea and a lemon iced cookie. It was the first time I wanted something, and maybe the reason I tempered my anger enough so the Hendersons wouldn’t send me away.
Of course, that meant tempering myself in all things.
7
Elizabeth
Opening my eyes, Eddie slouched in a chair next to my bed. His shoulders hunched, more tired-looking than I’d ever seen him before.
“Hey, Lizzie…” he said.
“Eddie.” My voice cracked, and I sat up as he pulled me into his arms for a quick hug. We weren’t exactly a family laced with the warm and fuzzies, but we took what we could get.
“What happened to your hand?” He offered me cold water with fresh ice chips from the nightstand I hadn’t noticed before.
Gulping down the water, I answered his question, “Him.”
We both knew who I meant. He nodded, grunting. A cursory review of my body on the bed meant everything else was okay. A broken finger seemed the least of my problems.
For now, though, my secret w
as out.
“His name is Adam Huntley. Did you know that?” Eddie’s eyes verbalized the disappointment he seemed to be holding back. I really fucked the pooch with this one.
I shook my head. “No.”
“The man who claims you stole his car, Liz. Did you know he’s a mob guy of some kind? He’s involved with bad shit. Real bad shit. Guns and drugs, if the rumors are true. What were you thinking?” He censured me, hands flipping up in the air.
I wasn’t thinking; that was my problem. I was only thinking about the payday of a thousand dollars for hot-wiring a car that was worth over two hundred times that.
Statistically speaking, I got screwed.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t. It was Ben and Mark who saw the car and decided to go for it. Look, I know I can fix this.” I reached for him, but he got up and paced around the room at a dizzying speed.
“Lizzie, they put kids like you in the juvenile detention facility in Bordentown for shit like this.” He continued pacing the room back and forth.
“Pfft. The girls go to the one in Clinton.” I shrugged, massaging my wrist and untangling the IV.
He slapped the wall, shaking his hand with the sting.
“Goddamn it, grand theft auto doesn’t just go away!” he shouted.
“Yes. Yes, it can,” I said.
Adam Huntley made that choice explicitly clear.
However, I didn’t know how to explain it to him in a way that made sense and didn’t make me seem like a child bride, whore, or worse.
“It’s my job to protect you. Liz, I can’t make this go away. We’re not six and ten anymore, and I’m not a superhero.”
He worried at the skin on his thumb. I patted the bed, urging him to come closer. Eddie had this hero complex. How many times growing up had he tried to save me from myself? I didn’t fully understand the scope of his guilt until this moment. How could I tell him the only salvation was giving in to the control freak who lingered outside? We had to ride the wave until the shore was close enough to swim to.