by Paige Dearth
“My name is Joon. I met your daughter Molly when she was in the hospital.”
Sadness flashed across the man’s face at the mention of his daughter. “Like I asked, what do you want?”
Joon held up the diary. “Molly asked me to give you this. She said, well, she said that she wanted you to know her last wishes.”
Molly’s father grabbed the diary and flipped to a random page. Recognizing his daughter’s handwriting, his posture relaxed slightly. Then he looked at Joon and Skinner. “Okay, now I have it. Thanks.”
“Sir, Molly said it was important for you to read it by yourself,” Joon explained, feeling a bit odd dictating what the man was supposed to do with his deceased daughter’s thoughts. “She said it would upset her mother too much and she didn’t want to put her through any more pain.”
The man turned the diary over in his hands, thinking. Then he leaned into the car, pulled out his briefcase, and stuck the diary inside. “Anything else?” he said, sounding annoyed.
“Yeah,” Joon said, trying to be compassionate, “I’m sorry about Molly. She was a really nice kid. She was smart, and we laughed a lot together. She was funny. I just want you to know I’m sorry Molly died.”
Molly’s father shoved his hand in his suit pocket as he felt heat spreading across his chest and into face. “Thanks…I appreciate that.” He looked Joon over from head to toe. “Do you need some money to get back home?”
Joon shook her head. “No. We’re fine. I hope that whatever Molly’s last wishes were that you can make them happen. I know that would’ve made her very happy.”
“You didn’t read it?”
“No. It’s her diary and she asked me not to.”
He gave her a sad smile. “Thanks. And good luck...to both of you.”
Joon and Skinner sat on a wooden bench as they waited for the train to take them back to Philadelphia.
“You know,” Joon said, smiling at Skinner, “it feels really good to keep a promise. I actually feel useful.”
On the train, Joon slept while Skinner kept alert to the people around them. Back in the city again, they met Gunther at Suburban Station and spent the rest of the night tucked between two Dumpsters in an alleyway.
Chapter Ninety-One
“What if she does something crazy?” Joon asked.
Tony Bruno turned to look at her. “Maybe you’d be better off waitin’ in the car.”
“No. I can’t.”
Tony rubbed his hands on his jeans. “Then ya need to calm down.”
Joon fell silent. She had asked for Tony’s help, and now she needed to listen to him.
After walking another block, Tony turned to Salvatore and Vincent. “It’s the next block. We ready?”
“I was born ready,” Vincent replied. “My ma used to tell me that when I was little. She said, ‘Vincent, you was born ready to get in trouble.’ It made me feel really good when she said that to me.”
The four teens stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the battered house. “I’m gonna take Joon up to the front door. Once we get inside, you two follow.”
Joon stood at the front door. Her legs felt like rubber. Tony stood off to the side but still close enough to keep her safe. She lifted her hand and knocked.
A minute later, the inner door opened, and she stood staring down at Aron. Her pulse quickened as the woman stared into her eyes. “Well, look who it is. Looney Jooney. What the fuck are you doing here?”
Joon’s heart pounded against her ribs. “You’re not as tall as I remembered,” she managed.
Aron was looking up at her. “Bitch, I don’t need height. I will fuck you over in a minute.”
At the outburst, Tony stepped in front of Joon and placed a gun against Aron’s temple. In a low, deep voice, he said, “I suggest you step inside and let us in, or I’ll blow your fuckin’ brains out right here on your broken-down porch.”
Aron glared at him. Joon was disturbed that the woman didn’t seem at all alarmed by having a gun to her head and realized the woman was crazier than she’d originally believed. Watching Aron was like viewing a horror movie where you’re screaming at the screen for the actor to be smarter. As Joon stepped into Aron’s house behind Tony, she waved Salvatore and Vincent in.
“Sit the fuck down,” Tony said, gesturing for Aron to sit in the recliner.
“What do you want? I don’t have any money,” Aron growled.
Tony glared at her. “What we want money can’t buy. Who else is in the house?”
Aron remained silent. Tony turned to his two friends and nodded toward the other rooms. A few minutes later, Salvatore and Vincent came back pushing Deen ahead of them.
“Joon? Who else lives here?”
“She has two sons, Deen and Dobi. That’s Deen.”
Tony kicked the recliner Aron was sitting in. “Where the fuck is Dobi?”
Aron huffed. “That little prick moved out. Stupid son of a bitch joined the navy. Couldn’t wait to get outta this town.”
“Couldn’t wait to get away from you,” Joon spat.
Aron jolted off the recliner, but before she could get to Joon, Tony punched her in the nose, and she flew back into the chair in a heap.
Joon laughed as she looked at Aron’s bloodied, stunned face, but it was mostly bravado to irritate Aron because her insides were quivering. Being in the house, around the people who had ruined her childhood, was overwhelming. Fear and revenge were warring against each other inside her head. It left her confused and partly detached from what was happening. She shook her head to steady her thoughts. Then Joon turned on Deen.
“Tony, did I tell you that Deen was going to rape me the night I ran away?”
Tony played her sidekick perfectly. “I think you mentioned that to me.” He walked over to Deen who was still standing between Salvatore and Vincent. “Is that what you was gonna do to her, Deen?”
Deen’s upper lip curled in a snarl. “Fuck you, you little Guido.”
Tony rubbed his chin. “Oh, we got us a smart-ass. You think you’re a badass? Is that it?”
Deen sneered in response.
In one swift move, Vincent grabbed the back of Deen’s head and slammed his face into the doorjamb.
Tony grabbed Deen by the collar and put his nose to the other boy’s. “Right now, you’re playing wit fire. You don’t know who we are or what we’re willing to do. But I’ll tell ya this, ain’t none of us got tolerance for little rapists. I suggest you shut your motherfucking mouth and open up your Dumbo ears,” he said. Then, he slapped Deen full force on the side of his head.
Joon felt a twinge of guilt as she looked from Aron to Deen. Both were bleeding and seemed helpless against the might of Tony, Salvatore, and Vincent. She even felt scared for them and considered asking Tony to dial it back—but then she remembered why she’d brought Tony and his friends to Aron’s house, and she turned on Aron with renewed rage.
“Where’s the little girl that lives here?”
Aron pursed her lips, her mouth cocked to the right side. “Don’t know what little girl you’re talking about. We don’t have anyone else living here.”
“You’re lying. I was here a couple of weeks ago. I watched you grab her by the hair and drag her into the house. Where is she?”
Aron’s mouth edged up into a twisted, sick smile.
Joon turned and headed straight into the kitchen. She went to the cellar door, found they had put a deadbolt on it, and returned to the living room. “Where’s the key to the deadbolt?”
Aron shrugged. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Have any of your boyfriends here told you that you smell really bad? Look at you,” she said, exaggeratedly examining her from her head to her toes. “You’re a disgusting piece of shit. I see nothing has changed.”
Joon rushed the woman and the recliner flipped backward, spilling both of them onto the floor. Joon moved with graceful quickness as she got on top of Aron, straddling her. She wanted to hit the woman, smash her face in with her
fist, rip the wiry hair out of her head, cut her big ears off…but given the opportunity to physically harm Aron, she couldn’t do it. Instead, she spit in Aron’s face and stood up.
“The little girl is in the basement. That’s where she kept me too. We need that key to the deadbolt,” she stated.
Tony nodded. “Hey!”
Salvatore and Vincent looked over at him. “Take that piece of shit into the kitchen and help him find the key to unlock the basement door.”
“Keep your fucking mouth shut, Deen!” Aron hollered.
Tony kicked Aron in the shin, and she yelped. “You better watch your fucking mouth. I ain’t a man who hurts women, but if there was ever a broad I’d like to beat the shit outta, it’s you.”
Joon covered her ears as Deen screamed in agony from the kitchen. She didn’t know what Salvatore and Vincent were doing to him, but whatever it was, she was certain it was very unpleasant. It wasn’t long before Salvatore walked into the living room, smiling, a key resting in his palm.
He walked up to Joon and gave her the key. “You better go down first, and we’ll follow. If there is a kid down there, she’ll be scared to see us. This way, you can let her know it’s okay.”
Tony pulled Aron off the floor, and they all walked into the kitchen. Joon opened the door and threw on the light switch. A dim bulb came on, and at the bottom of the steps, she could see the little girl huddled in the corner, staring up wide-eyed and fearful. It was like looking at herself several years before, and Joon was relieved she’d come back to find the child.
Chapter Ninety-Two
Joon walked down the steps calmly. When she got to the bottom, she stooped in front of the little girl.
“Hi. I’m Joon.”
The little girl’s eyes welled with tears, and she buried her face in her hands. It wasn’t until that moment that Joon noticed the girl was naked. She quickly took off her coat and wrapped it around the child. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
The girl looked up and shook her head, changing her mind suddenly and nodding.
“You’re hurt?”
The girl nodded again. “Are you going to hit me?” the girl mumbled.
“No. Of course not. Why would I hit you?”
The girl looked up at the top of the stairs where Tony was standing. “Aron hits me. And…she lets them hit me too.”
“Who is them?”
The child looked up at Tony again. “The men.”
Joon sucked in a breath so hard she couldn’t handle the sudden rush of air into her lungs and started coughing. “There are no men here that are going to hit you. We came to get you outta here, far away from that monster bitch.”
The girl smiled.
“We’re gonna go upstairs so we can leave,” Joon said. She reached for the child’s hand, but the girl shrunk away.
“What’s your name?”
“Lily.”
“Take my hand, Lily. I need you to trust me, okay? You’re going to be fine.” Joon followed Lily’s eyes to the top of the stairs. “That guy up there is a friend of mine. His name is Tony. He came to help take you away from here.”
After more coaxing, the child stood and Joon wrapped an arm around her as they ascended the stairs together. In the kitchen, Lily saw Aron and turned to go back down the stairs. Joon gently held her arm. “You don’t have to be afraid of her anymore. She’s never gonna hurt you again.” Joon swiftly moved Lily through the kitchen and into the bedroom where she’d once stayed. She opened the dresser drawers until she found clothes that Lily could wear. Once the child was dressed, Joon and Lily met Tony in the living room.
“Here are the keys to the car. You and…”
“Lily,” Joon said, smiling down at the girl.
“You and Lily go outside and wait for us. We won’t be much longer.”
Taking the car keys from Tony, Joon headed for the door but took one final look over her shoulder to find Aron staring at her. Joon gave her a beautiful smile, mouthed fuck you, and left the house with her head held high.
“Well,” Tony said, “I’m glad they’re gone. Now we can get down to business.” He turned to his friends. “Where’s the shit?”
“It’s on the porch,” Vincent said. “I’ll get it.”
By the time Vincent returned, Aron and Deen were tied up in the basement. Tony stood over them. “You know, I didn’t wanna kill ya. I mean, I hardly know ya.”
“There’s no reason to kill us,” Aron said, trying to keep her cool.
“Sure there is. I mean, you two was really mean to my friend Joon. And by the looks of that little girl, you was mean to her too. Anyway, here’s what we’re gonna do. First off, my friend Vincent has a little surprise for both of you.”
Vincent walked downstairs and stood over Aron. She tilted her head back to give him her nastiest look, and as she did, Vincent emptied the glass of acid into her face.
Aron’s screams indicated the pain level of her torture, and, satisfied with her reaction, Tony moved to Deen. The young man was shaking his head and sweating profusely.
“Please. I swear. I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t hurt me.”
Tony tapped his own forehead with his index finger. “Funny. I think Joon told me that she said something just like that to you when you was torturing her.” Tony bent down and cut Deen’s pajama bottoms away. Then Vincent walked up, leered at Deen, and poured a glass of acid on his crotch.
Aron and Deen were both yelling as Tony bent down in front of Aron, whose face was melting off and hanging in a mangled mass of flesh. “I know you care a whole lot about looks—you know, always telling Joon how ugly she was and all. So we thought you needed a little attitude adjustment. Now, we can’t leave ya here like this. If someone finds you, who knows? You could talk. So just to make sure…”
Tony slit Aron’s throat with a hunting knife. The three boys stood and watched as the life slipped out of her and she gurgled her way into hell. Then Tony did the same to Deen. Once both were dead, Tony, Salvatore, and Vincent left the house and closed the door behind them.
“We did good work here tonight,” Salvatore said, patting Tony on the back.
“Yeah, it’s easy to kill people like that. They ain’t doing this world no good,” Tony said.
As the boys got into the car, Joon looked at them with anticipation. “Well?”
Tony slid in the car next to Joon. “Everything’s been taken care of. They ain’t never gonna bother you or Lily again.”
Joon’s stomach flip-flopped. She didn’t know what the boys had done but figured whatever it was had been painful and permanent. A tinge of guilt hit her in the belly, but she soothed it by remembering they had saved a child.
One Year Later
Joon walked into the small waiting room outside Dr. Becker’s office, gave the receptionist her name, and looked around for a seat. There were three chairs sitting side by side, and she settled into the chair on the end. She sat staring at her hands, which rested in her lap. Her fingernails were black. She brushed her fingers on her oversized jeans as if she could get rid of the grime. Self-conscious, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to make it look as though it were combed. She let out a loud sigh.
I’m covered in filth. Maybe Dr. Becker won’t notice. Not that he cares. Dr. Becker never judges…I wonder how bad I smell. Oh God, I know I smell like shit and sour piss. Okay, stop it.
As Joon waited, the door opened and a couple entered with their small daughter. They didn’t seem to notice her while they gave the receptionist their name, but as the couple turned back to the room, they looked directly at Joon. She saw the mother wince.
They slowly made their way over to sit, the mother taking the seat on the other end of the row and pulling her child onto her lap, leaving the chair between herself and Joon empty. The husband hovered in front of his wife and daughter.
“Hi,” the little girl said, leaning from her mother’s lap into the open chair between them. “My name is Christy. What’s y
ours?”
“Christy,” her mother said sharply. “Leave that lady alone.”
Joon smiled at the girl. “It’s okay,” she said to the mother. “My name is Joon.”
Christy smiled back at her. “Are you sick?”
“No.”
Christy’s mom tried to pull the seven-year-old back onto her lap, but she kept trying to wiggle away.
“How come your clothes look like that?” Christy asked.
Joon readjusted in her chair. “Well, I didn’t get a chance to wash them.”
Christy pointed at Joon’s hands. “You forgot to wash your hands too?”
Joon flushed. She wished the child would stop pointing out the obvious. Her parents were becoming visibly more uncomfortable.
“Yeah, I forgot to wash them,” Joon said, making two fists to hide her fingernails. Then she tried to ignore the child for the sake of her parents.
Against her mother’s will, the little girl moved off her lap and climbed into the chair next to Joon. The child’s mother grabbed the girl’s shoulder and held her away from Joon. Finally, the father had his wife stand up, and he lifted her chair and moved it against another wall.
“Come on, Christy,” her father instructed. “Come over here and sit with Mommy.”
Christy obeyed her father and moved across the room, where her mother held her tight, as if to protect the child from the germs and disease of Joon. The couple whispered a few times and looked over at Joon, who wished she could fade into invisibility. Joon could sense that Christy’s parents were repulsed and even scared of their child being near her. It wasn’t often that Joon spent time around “normal” people in small spaces, and today, she wasn’t prepared to handle the rejection and repulsion that the couple couldn’t hide. They were huddled around the chair as if they could filter the air, so Christy wouldn’t breathe in Joon. Joon glanced up and again found them staring at her. Their brows furrowed and mouths pinched.
