by T. L Smith
This is the father, that much I can tell.
He storms away, and Rose drops to the ground. Her head is between her hands. I should go to her, try to comfort her, though I can’t. I don’t know how to. What I would say? How to do that? I’ve never done or needed to do something like that. Crying is the walk away zone for me.
I drive away, wanting to touch her and hold her, knowing that I shouldn’t. I drive to my job, my gear already in my truck. Jake rings, and it’s the third time he’s rung this week. I’ve been ignoring his calls, ignoring him altogether. I don’t want him to connect the dots and potentially ruin it all.
I know though if I don’t answer soon he’ll go on a manhunt for me. And he’s damn good at finding out what he wants and what he needs.
“Yeah,” I answer, pulling up to the local strip club. I stop the car and turn it off, reaching behind me to pocket my gun. Tonight is a different hit, tonight is an up close and personal hit. My phone rings. Jake’s calling, it’s time.
“You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you? You knew we’d find out.” I look at the gun, wondering if it would be easier to just kill all those that are close to me. Would that keep her safe?
“Yes, I knew,” I finally answer him.
He screams into the phone. “This is why you’ve been ignoring me, you didn’t want me to know.”
“Yes.”
“You know he knows, he wants her back, Black, and I can’t say no to him.”
“Just tell me when?”
“What are you going to do, Black? Don’t take on everyone for her.”
“I will do what I have to do, Jake, just don’t be there to collect her. You won’t like the outcome.”
“Fuck!” he screams loudly and then hangs up.
It’s busy when I enter, and I spot her straight away. She’s at the bar, her breasts are leaning on it. She’s seducing a man twice her age. She spots me as soon as I’m in sight and she looks around, nerves evident on her stone-like facial expression as her body shakes.
“Stella.”
“Don’t do it, Black,” she says, stepping as far away from me as she can possibly get behind the bar. Her clothes are skimpy, her breasts on full display.
“I need to talk to you privately.”
“Nope.” She shakes her head back and forth.
“This is the last time I will ask nicely.”
“I can’t. I know, I know why you are here. I just can’t.”
“Is that your choice?” She looks at me with her mouth open and a small gasp leaves her throat. Her head slowly nods up and down. I nod mine and walk away. She runs as soon as I’m out of sight. I turn around to watch her and then follow her. She runs to the back of the club and locks herself in a room. I hear talking, so I break the door down, and it bounces open, revealing her on the phone. She screams, but no one comes. I grab her forcefully, and she drops her phone to the ground where it smashes to pieces. She tries to kick me, to break free, but it doesn’t work.
It’s dark, the club surrounded by nothing but bushland. I take her into it and she doesn’t stop screaming the whole way. When I think I’m far enough away, I let her go and she tries to run. But I managed to get a rope wrapped around her neck when she was fighting me. Now it pulls tight as she tries to run and she drops to the ground, clawing at her neck, attempting to remove it.
I stand above her and she stills. Realizing nothing is going to work, though I have to give it to her, her fight is good. I’m sure I have scratches over my body.
“Please don’t do this,” she pleads, tears cascading down her face.
“What did you think would happen? Why didn’t you run?”
“I did. I changed my name. Just say you never saw me, please. I’ll give you everything I have.”
“I don’t work like that, Stella.”
“You’re just like them… scum,” she screams at me.
“Like the scum you stole from? You stole close to a million dollars, Stella. What did you think would happen? You could just walk away... escape?” I laugh dryly at her.
“You’re sick, you know that? Sick and fucked in the head.”
“I never claimed to be normal, baby.”
“No, you’re lower than the devil himself. You murderer.”
“Goodbye, Stella,” I say, bringing the gun up and shooting. Her mouth is open, words wanting to leave her mouth that never fully make their escape. Her eyes are large with shock and anger.
I leave her there, as per their request.
“It’s done,” I say into the phone to the Pres.
“Thanks, son,” are his words of reply before I hang up on him.
You’d think someone like me, someone that kills people for a living, would have nightmares. When I lay my head down that night, awaiting the nightmare, I wonder why they don’t come. Am I that fucked up that someone like me doesn’t deserve them? Or maybe all the bad I do is my penance.
I will not crawl back to him, I will not. This is my mantra, I say it over and over.
I will not.
I will not.
Why must I debate something like this? I shouldn’t want to be with him.
He’s bad, evil.
The things I’ve been told he’s done—does—is enough to make anyone run with their tail tucked firmly between their legs. I can’t though. He’s on my mind even as I sit here on a date a week after I last spoke with Black with no word since. He doesn’t care, so maybe I should stop caring myself. Maybe I should shut that part of me up.
Robbie looks at me and smiles as he picks up his glass of wine, his appreciation for me evident in his ways. And all I can think about is Black wouldn’t drink wine. I have to cut that train of thought from my brain, extract it, and move it somewhere into the dark recesses of my mind.
“To you,” he toasts. We’ve just finished a beautiful dinner. He saw me not long after I ran into Roger. My face flooded with tears, he understood why. He knows about my daughter, he’s looked into my files. He knows all there is to know about me. And he doesn’t seem to care, though neither does Black, and he has seen me at my worst.
“I can’t toast to me, Robbie.” I shake my head at him.
“You can look at what you are doing. Fighting for what you believe in.” He’s taken me to the best lawyer money can buy when he found me. I told him I want her, need her in my life. Though just for a consultation with the lawyer, it took all the money I had saved. I now don’t have enough to pay for anything else. And I have no idea where I’ll be getting the money for the rest of it. My job does not pay that much, and no bank will loan me the money. I do have one option, and that option is a hard one and one I don’t want to go to.
I clink my glass with his, even though there’s nothing to be happy about. It’s actually a dreadful day. Roger knows I’m here, and the look on his face when he saw me with Isabelle was one of death. He wanted me to never come back, to never see her again. He thought the drugs he fed me would have done the trick, he thought he could have all he wanted and exclude me from the picture. It doesn’t work like that. I gave birth to my beautiful baby girl, and I will do anything I possibly can to get her back.
He saw it in my eyes, the way my hand protectively wrapped around her shoulders. He knew I was back for her, she was the only reason I would step back in this town. Nothing else is here for me.
“I think you’re doing what any mother would do,” Robbie says, bringing me out my thoughts. I smile at him. He’s handsome, nice. All the things I should be going for. Except I’m not.
“I have to tell you something,” I say, placing the glass on the table. I look to him to see a serious look cross his face.
“Conversations that usually start with that don’t usually end well,” he says mockingly, but with a worried look on his face.
“I have been seeing someone.” I look and wait for his reaction. He doesn’t seem surprised.
“I know you have, Rose.”
“Why are you here then?” I can’t help
but ask.
“I’m here because I don’t think you want anything long term with a man like Black. Especially if you’re going to be trying to get your daughter back.” I’m shocked to say the least. Shocked that he can say that, he doesn’t even know him.
“He isn’t as bad as they say,” I defend him. Why? I have no idea.
“No, he isn’t…” he shakes his head slightly, “…I think he’s worse.”
He pauses for a moment, picking up his glass and taking another drink. I sit there, unable to say anything.
“Are you still seeing him?”
“No!” And it’s true. I haven’t been, and it’s been torture.
“I think that’s the smart thing to do.” He nods his head like he’s trying to make me believe it. Pity that I don’t.
Dinner ended on an awkward note since he wanted to kiss me. He leaned in and I deflected it with a kiss on the cheek. He looked unhappy, but I wasn’t going to be kissing two guys in a matter of months.
Today, though, today is a new day. And I am excited. I have finished work early, and I’m standing at the front of Isabelle’s school waiting for her break. I hear the bell, and my smile is so wide it’s hurting my face. I can’t help it. Since I saw her yesterday, I couldn’t wait to see her again. She’s grown so much and she’s so beautiful it breaks my heart that I’ve missed so much. I want to learn about everything that’s new. What is her favorite show now? She changed her mind on that so often it was hard to keep up.
A hand touches my back and I turn to see Roger standing there, his face scrunched up. Anger is evident in his features.
“You should not be here,” he basically spits. I turn my head, wanting to see if she comes out. Not wishing to miss a second of her. He grabs my arm and turns me back to him. “I knew you’d come again today. Let’s get out of sight and talk.” I’m hesitant since I don’t want to be anywhere alone with this man. I turn back, and he speaks as I do. “She’ll be waiting,” he assures me.
“I want to see her more,” I say, walking behind him, following him out of sight of the school grounds.
“I don’t think that should happen,” he says. I stop. Not wanting to go further. We’re already far enough away as it is.
“You can’t stop me, Roger. I will take it to the courts if I have to.” He laughs dryly at me.
“With what money? You haven’t held your job long enough to cover the cost. You don’t even own a house, Rose. Plus...” he leans in close, his scent I once used to love now makes me want to be sick, “…you’re a druggie.” He basically spits the last words at me. I take a step back, removing myself from his proximity.
“That is all on you.” I know I shouldn’t have said it when it leaves my mouth. I felt it, I forgot for a second how bad his temper is. His face goes red, he looks possessed. His hand is fast that I don’t even see the movement. He brings it to my face and slaps me so hard I fall backward. I don’t move, there isn’t a reason to. If I speak or say another word it’s ignition for him. He walks so he’s next to me.
“You are nothing but trash, used up and wasted trash.” He kicks my ribs hard. The breath leaves me and it feels like I have to fight to get it back.
I have to remove my child from this man, she can’t grow up with him.
Weeks pass by, and they drag. It’s torturous not seeing or having her. How is it that she makes me feel the slightest bit alive when I’ve felt dead for as long as I can remember? How can someone so broken even begin to help someone so fucked up? I’ve kept my distance, I haven’t called, stalked, or followed her. She needs this time, I need this time to wash her out of my system. A system that’s already so broken, one that craves her, with reasons I’m yet to still discover.
My phone rings, pulling me from the dead man on the ground—another hit, another life. He’s old, this one, older than I usually hit. He fought, he tried to bribe me at first, then he pleaded. They all plead or bribe in the end. More money, or offering up families or their children. As if these things mean anything to me, as if I should care about their loved ones. I can’t. That’s what makes me so good at what I do. It’s impossible for me to. That’s why the thought of wanting and craving Rose has me puzzled. I have craved one thing, and that’s only ever been sex. In my early twenties, soon even that became boring. Another hole, another goal was Jake’s motto. Never mine, they all blend into one. Each time it left me wondering why I even did it in the first place.
I look to the caller ID, then the dead man. He’s lying on the concrete, his head has blood pouring out and spreading in a neat pattern over the ground. He hit it hard after I shot him. More mess.
“Black… Black, is that you?” her voice rings from the end of my phone. I don’t talk, don’t know what to say. I could tell her I’m busy, that I have a body to dispose of, but I sit and wait to hear her voice again. Looking at the lifeless body beneath my feet. “Look, I don’t know how to ask this…” she pauses, her voice is shaky, “…I need to borrow some money. I promise I’ll pay you back. Black… Black, are you there? Please answer me.” She’s clearly distraught. I honestly never thought she’d ask, so I know she needs it. I also have an idea now of why she may need it.
“Come to mine in thirty,” I say, clicking the phone shut. I make a call, and they’re coming to collect the body. It’s done. I drop my card. He will know why the floor is covered in blood, and he will know it’s from me.
She’s there when I arrive home. She has on a short dress and her legs look like they should be wrapped around my waist right now, with her heels digging into my ass. Sunglasses cover her face. I don’t see the look she giving me. I’d like to know what she’s thinking. What her feelings are? Her feelings show so evidently in her eyes when I can see them. She stands taller, watching me from behind her glasses, I want to rip them off her face to see what she’s really not telling me. Except I walk straight past her and up into my house. She follows, her heels clicking with each step she takes behind me.
Hayden is sitting on my couch eating chips when I walk in. He looks to me and smiles, then looks to Rose and smiles brighter. I walk to him and pull the change from my pocket. He takes it and looks back at me.
“Go to the shop, get something to eat.” He nods his head eagerly and stops at Rose on the way out, who’s standing at the door.
“I’m glad you’re okay, miss,” he says and then runs out. I stand there, waiting for her to speak. Waiting for her to tell me something. My mind is on her and her body. All the things I could do with it. My cock is hard. It’s never hard anymore unless I think of her. I’m in a fucked up situation—royally fucked.
“You going to speak to me?” she asks. I walk forward, not liking the tone in her voice. I snatch the glasses from her eyes. She covers them and swears at me. I tilt her head up, noticing she has a black eye and has recently been crying.
“What happened?”
“As if you care!” She turns her nose up at me and faces away so she doesn’t have to look at me.
“Rose… tell… me… what… happened?” I ask very slowly, dragging each word out. Her ice blue eyes turn back to me. Hard now.
“He happened! Everything in my life that’s fucked is because of him. He happened, dammit!” she screams. Her fists clench tight.
“The father?” She doesn’t look surprised.
“I saw you watching me.” Her face is mocking me. “I thought you didn’t want to see me anymore?” she teases.
“I do, but it’s best if we don’t.”
“God, you make me want to rip my hair out by the roots,” she exclaims.
“As long as I can rip it too.”
“You have issues, Black.” She shakes her head at me. Stepping closer. Just as she’s in reach, my hand flies up to touch her eye. I want to take it away, the pain he’s caused her.
“What do you need, Rose?” My voice is calm, but my body is anything but. The want for her is so strong. She starts to fidget, looking down at her hands. They clench and her fingernails dig
into her hands.
“I need to borrow some money.”
“How much do you need?”
“I need a lot…” she hesitates. I give her a card from my pocket and a pen from the table. She looks at it. “This is a card, Black. What do you want me to do with it?” I look down and realize what I’ve given her. What a mistake it is. If she knew, knew what that card meant, she wouldn’t be giving me the odd look she’s giving me right now.
“Write down your amount.” She puts the end of the pen in her mouth, steps back and leans on the kitchen bench. She looks to me then back to the card, and she writes on it. The pen scratching the card, then she hesitantly holds it close to her.
“I don’t know if you have this. If you don’t please say so, so I can find the money somewhere else.” I hold my hand out. She doesn’t let the card go, just holds it to her chest.
“Rose, the card. Now.”
“I don’t think I can do this,” she says, about to tear it up. So I snatch it from her hands and read the amount. I have more than enough, I have money hidden everywhere, the amount she needs is under my bed.
“Wait here, Rose. Don’t move…” She scrunches her brows. “Tell me you won’t move?”
“I won’t move,” she says. I walk away to my bedroom and pull the case from under my bed. It has more than what she needs. She can have it all.
She doesn’t move. She’s standing there, hands clenched with the pen still in one hand. She looks up at me as I enter, hope written on her face when she sees the bag in hand. I hold it out to her, but she doesn’t take it. She stands there looking from me to the bag.
“I have one condition. Well, possibly two.”
“Yes,” she says.
“When you take this money, the condition is I don’t want to see you again.” Her eyes go big, she looks hurt. “Second, I don’t want any of it back. It’s yours.” I shove the bag into her hands. Both hands come up and cuddle it like a baby. She looks from the bag to me.
