Fear Us

by B. B. Reid

  We’d just pulled up to a stoplight when Kennedy said, “Mama, I want ice cream.”

  “Ken, it’s ten in the morning. It’s not time for ice cream yet.”

  “But, Mama, an ice cream a day keeps the doctor away.”

  “You know that’s an apple, right?”

  She lowered her kiddie shades, pursed her lips, and peeked at me over the top. “Not today.”

  “Okay, so which one of your uncles is responsible for this? You know what? Scratch that.” I knew who was responsible. It was amazing how much of an influence a complete stranger was on her, but she was every bit of her father. Conning and sweet-talking was her specialty.

  “Auntie Lake said I’m just like my daddy, but I told her I never met my daddy. How come, Mommy?”

  The car jerked to a stop, and I realized my foot was trying to force the brake pedal through the floorboard. Car horns blared and angry drivers cursed as they swerved to avoid hitting my car.

  I am going to kill Lake.

  Maybe I was just hearing things?

  Kennedy’s speech was still developing, and sometimes, even I could have a hard time understanding her. Sometimes she misunderstood words and used them wrong. Could that be it?

  Kennedy had never asked about her father before because I had never brought him up. I knew it wasn’t right, but I could never bring myself to talk about him. I figured I had a little more time before she started asking questions.

  But I guess time really didn’t wait for anyone. Another hard lesson I had to learn because of him. I didn’t want to blame him for everything that had gone wrong, but it was kind of hard when he wasn’t here to defend himself.

  I pulled over into the gas station because this wasn’t a conversation I could have while driving. Do I tell her the truth or a lie? A quick look in the rearview mirror told me this wasn’t just a random question.

  God, she’s only three.

  It wasn’t supposed to be time. I parked and took a deep breath before I turned to the back seat to face her. “Ken, your father is—”

  I stopped short when I noticed an extremely large man, wearing all black in the middle of summer, hunched over and peering into the car window where my daughter sat. She silently stared back as her body tensed.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I screamed though the windows were closed.

  When his hand reached for the door handle I scrambled to hit the lock button which was when I noticed a second man, equally dressed in black, standing next to my door with a handgun pointed directly at my head in the middle of broad daylight.

  “If you so much as bat a fucking eyelash, I will blow your brain through your ears, got me?”

  “Mommy!”

  “Kennedy!” Ignoring the warning, I whipped around to see my daughter fighting the large gnarly hands lifting her out of her car seat. “Take your hands off my daughter!”

  Everything happened fast. Too fast. And the worse part was I didn’t even know why. I screamed for help, but nothing came. Not the sound of my voice or a good Samaritan.

  Only pain.

  The last thing I remembered was the ringing of my ears drowning out my daughter’s screams for me.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  KEENAN

  “KEEP YOUR ASS still, Lacy.” Or was it Lucy?

  “I can’t,” she whined and wiggled her ass. “It hurts.”

  I suppressed the temptation to shove her off my table and instead, pressed the needle deeper into her skin. Her hiss of pain was music to my ears, and even now, I could feel my dick hardening.

  There were two types of people when it came to pain. Those who received it and those who gifted it.

  Let’s just say, I’ve become one generous motherfucker.

  “Still¸” I ordered again, this time lower and deeper, letting her know I was serious, “or get the fuck off my table.”

  She murmured an apology and managed to keep still while I finished up the last of the large butterfly tattoo, stereotypical of women who failed to realize when it had gotten old. Normally, I would have turned her away, but the desperate need for a distraction called for desperate measures.

  “Five-hundred,” I ordered after wrapping up her tat. “Pay up and get out.”

  A tattoo as easy as hers wouldn’t cost nearly as much as I was charging, but I was in that kind of mood.

  She made a small pout but wisely, didn’t argue. She knew better than that. The reputation I’d built up over the last four years preceded me.

  “Don’t worry. I left you a little extra ass candy.”

  “Really?” she squealed. The stupid bitch actually turned, hoping to see her tattoo. Fucking airheads.

  “Listen, Lucy—”

  “Lacy.”

  “I have shit to do and you’re holding me up.” I snapped my fingers for the money, ready to toss her out on the street with or without the money.

  “Oh, um…”

  I peered down at her and felt my jaw clench. “Fucking A. You don’t have the money, do you?”

  “Not—not quite that much.”

  “How… much?”

  “Two.”

  “Leave the money on the table and get out. Don’t come back.” I was already turning away, expecting her to be gone sooner rather than later.”

  “Oh, wait! I know.”

  You have no fucking idea.

  I kept moving to my back office with her on my heels. My mood only darkened when I sat behind the large mahogany desk, and she followed me to her knees.

  “Last chance. Leave,” I warned.

  “But don’t you want me to pay you first?” She ran her hands up my legs and even with my jeans separating us, my body ran cold. “I’ve got something better than money,” she purred.

  “Oh, yeah?” I ran my fingers through her hair. “What’s that?”

  “Let me show you,” she replied as she attempted to unbuckle my belt. My hands stopped her as I leaned forward.

  “You want to suck?” She licked her lips and dropped her head forward, but my hand suddenly in her hair stopped her as I used her hair as a leash. “I asked you a fucking question.”

  “Yes. I want to suck.”

  I let my smile take over my features, which seemed to bring her ease. “Well, then suck you shall. But it won’t be my dick.”

  “You want me to suck someone else?”

  I suppressed the urge to shake my head. These Hollywood sluts have little shame.

  “I want you to stick those pouty little lips,” I pointed to where the pipe stuck out from the wall, “on that rusty pipe over there.”

  “What?”

  “Now. Suck that pipe, Lacy. Make it feel good.”

  “But I could get sick,” she whined.

  “I simply don’t give a fuck. I gave you the chance to leave.” When she continued to hesitate, I lost the last bit of patience I had. “Do it or I make you, and I can’t guarantee you’ll still have all your teeth when I’m through.”

  She stood to her feet and crossed the room to the pipe. I watched her long enough to see her lower to her knees before picking up my cell. When the voice on the other end spoke, I wasted no time digging in her ass. “What did I tell you about sending your slut bucket friends to my shop and promising them a discount?”

  “Isn’t that like the pot calling the kettle black?”

  “Come again?”

  “If anyone is a slut, it’s you… King Slut.”

  I sat back in my desk chair feeling more annoyed with each second that passed... “Where did you hear this?”

  “During my recent short but pleasurable stay in the lovely town of Six Forks.”

  “I haven’t been there in four years, Di.”

  “Yes, but apparently, you’re a legend because the ladies still curse your very existence and your dick.”

  “Well, maybe it’s time I stop sending you there. I pay you to get useful information, not gossip.”

  “Isn’t it the same thing?’

  “Depends on who you’re
talking to.” I held my breath, waiting, as only the sound of her breathing passed through the phone.

  “I didn’t see him.”

  “Of course not. He’s probably still being a studious college twat for his little princess.”

  “Keiran? A twat? Studying?”

  “You don’t know him so don’t pretend you do.”

  “So why did you send me back to that hot ass place if you knew he wouldn’t be there?”

  “I didn’t tell you to stop sucking,” I barked to the blonde when she lifted her head.

  “My jaw hurts.”

  “Are you seriously getting a blow job while you’re talking to me?”

  “Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking.” Before I could end the call, I heard her shout to wait. “What?”

  “It was for her, wasn’t it?

  “And if it was?”

  “I would have to say I’m curious why? I mean it’s obvious you still love her judging by the large sketch on your office wall. Kind of sweet but a little obsessive.”

  “I guess I had a moment of weakness. It’s a common trait for sluts.” I hung up the phone and closed my eyes before opening them. My gaze traveled to the sketch I drew of Sheldon the night I took her virginity. She was fast asleep, and even after the things I’d done to her body, she still somehow looked pure.

  I reflected on the last four years, and for the millionth time, I wondered about all that I might have missed. Was she still the same? Was she better or worse?

  Was I?

  Not for the first time, I wondered if the life I led was worth anything. My only other option had been to continue living the life I had before leaving. Eighteen years was a long time to live a lie. I couldn’t sacrifice more time to it.

  One might think that if you spent your life living for the wrong reason, then there was no point in living at all.

  I had my chance to die, but I was too much of a coward to take it.

  Now I’m forced to live another lie.

  But this time is different.

  This time it would be my own.

  I looked over at the blonde who looked near to passing out. “Get out.”

  * * * * *

  A few hours and a couple of appointments later I stepped out of my shop and locked up for the night.

  I opened Broken Ink shortly after I grew bored of being holed up, and I was convinced my brother wasn’t hot on my trail.

  Di convinced me to let her tag along after telling me all about the money her father had stashed away in their home. It took careful thinking, but after pulling the caper, we walked away with a fifty-fifty split.

  Since I didn’t graduate due to my lengthy stay in the hospital, I settled for a GED and later, a license for the shop.

  In the beginning, business was nonexistent. In a big city, it paid to have connections, and the only customers gracing my shop back then were friends of Di. I never thought that doing cheap tats for her friends would pay off until I hit the jackpot by doing some very serious ink for an aspiring band who hit it big six months later. It worked out for me that part of their sex appeal came from the hardcore tats that had all of California and even people out of state rushing to my shop. The boom in business made me forget the reality that I was running because none of these people knew me.

  I gave them all a fake story and even more of a fake name, and while I knew my cover wasn’t airtight, it worked so long as I didn’t give anyone a reason to dig.

  But it wasn’t them I was worried about. It was everyone I left behind. Knowing my brother, he would look for me because of who he is, but after what I’d done the night I left, I wouldn’t bet on it unless it was to kill me.

  He was a vengeful person and no one knew that better than his former pet turned girlfriend.

  She was the reason he would come after me if he ever did because four years wasn’t nearly long enough for him to forget what I had done. I wondered what he would do if he knew Lake wasn’t the only one I’d hurt that night? Keiran had never been the knight in shining armor, but even then, I could see the change that Lake had caused in him.

  Instead of happiness for my brother and a girl I once called a friend, all I felt was envy and anger. I once believed in my own way that love might have been real until it was shattered the night I met my real father and found out my brother, who I knew as my cousin all my life, killed my mother. Our mother.

  Love faded that day.

  And when Sheldon turned her back on me, it died completely.

  My phone pinged with an incoming text message. It was a Friday night so I already knew what the message held without looking at it. Another invite to a party guaranteed to end with fucked up life choices being made.

  And like always, I’d accept without ever answering the invitation.

  And why not? I was free to do so. I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I didn’t have to care what anyone thought.

  And even more tempting, I didn’t have to feel guilty for hurting anyone but myself.

  Most of the people who frequented these parties were either escaping pain or looking for it. I was just another body in a world full of sin that didn’t fit in either category.

  The text message, when I finally read it, held an address and nothing else. It didn’t take long for the hosts, or whoever extended the invitation, to catch on to the fact that I would never respond, so after a while, they would only send an address.

  If I showed, I showed. If I didn’t… well, I always did.

  Being alone was never good for long. I’d had enough of that growing up. I craved contact. I needed attention. I demanded to be noticed.

  I laughed silently first, and then out loud when I remembered on more than one occasion Lake saying that I was an attention whore. She saw right through me, so I had no choice but to befriend her. I didn’t anticipate actually caring about her. I didn’t show it the last time I saw her, but I never really wanted to hurt her. Just my brother.

  I may seek attention, but that didn’t mean it filled the void. It was more like a temporary fix that I quickly became addicted to—it was part of the reason I was still searching.

  I hopped on my bike, and when it roared to life, I sped off for a night of darkness and sin.

  * * * * *

  The address took me to a seedier part of town that even the cops gave a wide berth. It was a wonder how many of the city’s elite would be caught dead in a place like this, mixing with scum. I toed the line between the two classes.

  A row of houses, each in worse shape than the one before it, were littered with partygoers coming and going. I picked one to park my bike in front of.

  “Chris! Welcome to the party, man!”

  The voice came from my left, and by the time I dismounted, he was on me. Keith was a big time dealer who liked to host parties to scout out potential clientele and competition. There was more than one occasion when a party ended badly due to a shootout or a druggie overdosing. In fact, it was the very type of situation that resulted in our friendship three years ago. I saved him from a few stick-up kids, and he repaid me by sending me fresh clientele and invitations to his parties. More often than not, I would bring my business here and do a few tats for extra cash—not that I really needed it.

  “What’s up, bro? You got the party started without me?” I teased as we slapped hands. He strategically managed to push a beer in my other hand. I wasn’t usually the beer drinking type, but these days, I began to care less and less.

  “We always get the party started without you. You show up when you feel like it. If we waited for you, it would be time to end it before it ever got started.”

  “Haven’t you ever heard that a true party doesn’t stop?”

  “Yeah, well, it would be kind of hard not to stop when everyone is passed out drunk from booze and buzz.”

  “So why out here? This isn’t your usual kind of spot.”

  “Man, the pigs have been sniffing around my shit so I had to change it up. Besides, I’ve been hearing about a
smaller dealer around these parts that wanted to take my spot.”

  “You know one day your shit is going to catch you by the collar, right?”

  “And when it does, at least I’ll be able to say I lived my life the way I chose. How many people do you know who can say that besides me and you?”

  “If you say so, man,” I agreed half-heartedly. In truth, Keith was dying. His path of self-destruction would lead him to one of two places—the grave or prison. But was I any better? I may not indulge, but I was no better than the rest because I chose this life.

  Di had warned me just about every day how easy it was to get sucked into the fast life, but what she didn’t know was I never do anything I didn’t want anymore.

  The last time I did, it cost me everything.

  At least now, if I woke up tomorrow and decided I wanted a completely different path, I would take that road, but until then, I lived for today and today only.

  “So what brought you by tonight?” Keith asked, forcing my attention back to him. “Bitches, booze, or buzz?”

  “Boredom.”

  “Ah.” He’d gone quiet as he looked over the party and sipped on his beer. After three years of friendship, he knew not to push the issue. It was common knowledge that I never indulged at these parties beyond alcohol.

  I was content to stand here and people watch for the rest of the night until Keith’s crew staggered over with their groupies in tow.

  A chorus of drunken greetings from the guys and sexy smiles meant to seduce from the girls interrupted the silence. Keith snapped his fingers at someone I couldn’t see, and not long after, lawn chairs were brought over. I was handed one and wasted no time kicking back.

  “Chris, man, your hands are looking a little empty,” Ryder, Keith’s right hand, said. “Katy, go sit on his lap.”

  The redhead massaging his shoulders promptly skipped over to me with a wide grin as if he had just given her a million dollars rather than passed her around like the slut she was. I never aspired to have that kind of power, but it was always amusing to watch.