by A. J. Downey
“Hold up,” Dump Truck said, pointing. “Cameras.”
“Boys, put your party dresses on,” I said and we each shrugged out of our cuts, turning them inside out and shrugging back into them, wrapping our lower faces in bandanas and balaclavas to shield our identities.
“Gonna have to move fast,” Dump Truck said. “Place like this is bound to be alarmed, closed circuit maybe, but any security is bad news for us bears.”
“Stay down here,” I told him, and he gave a nod.
“Me and stairs does not equal fast,” he agreed.
“Tic-Tac, let’s go.”
We surged across the cracked and crumbling asphalt to the door to the stairs leading up into the rest of the building. It was wood and ancient, framing a large glass pane with the street number for the building gold leafed onto its front. It fit the building, looking all classy and historically accurate, but it didn’t do shit about keeping us out.
“Mav, he’s waking up,” Dahlia said in my ear, the alarm clearly telegraphed through her voice.
“Man, move, we gotta move.” I slipped through the portal left behind by the shattered glass first, double-timing it up the stairs as Mallory made a noise in my ear somewhere between frightened and desperate, the phone on her end clattering to the floor.
I reached the wooden door on the third floor marked ‘3B’ with its shiny brass plate and lunged at it with my shoulder. The door shuddered in its frame and groaned under the onslaught. Close, one more ought to do it. I squared up and let fly with a booted foot and the doorframe cracked and splintered, the plank flying inward, swinging on its hinges to crack against the drywall behind it.
Tic-Tac followed my breech, sliding through into the apartment and I was right on his six.
He swept through a posh living room with views of the sound and through a doorway that must have been a bedroom. I was right behind him, just in time to see Tic-Tac tee off with his asp, cracking the motherfucker that was on top of Dahlia in the back of his skull, laying him out.
He pitched forward, his hands coming off Dahlia’s throat. I went for her and let Tic-Tac deal with the fucker that’d been choking my best friend out.
“I got you, hold on, baby, I got you.” I helped her up onto her feet and she choked and wobbled on her heels, trying to get air. She was in her underwear, her dress was gone, and I looked around the tousled bed covers for it somewhat frantically.
“You two move the fuck out of the way,” Tic-Tac gritted between his clenched teeth. He was seething, breathing in and out, barely able to contain his rage.
“Don’t kill him,” Dahlia choked out. “You cripple that son of a bitch, though. Break every fucking limb!”
“You don’t call these kinds of shots,” I reminded her tersely. I looked to Tic-Tac who looked to me and I said, “No witnesses.”
Savage glee sparked in his light blue eyes and he took his asp handle in two hands and beat that motherfucker to death. I mean, he just caved that rat bastard’s skull in. I got me and Dahlia both out of the way of cast off from the weapon and shoved her out into the living room, helping her into the ruin of her dress.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“Picked me up after the show at the bar, came back here for some sexy times, he got rough – I wasn’t having any of it. Mav, he stuck me with something, a needle. I barely got my taser out of my purse. Knocked him out cold. I called you.”
“You can always call me,” I reminded her.
“I know,” she said, shaking.
“Now come on.”
“Go!” Tic-Tac called. “I got the rest of her shit.”
“You good to ride?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, wobbling on her heels like a newborn gazelle. I supported her out the door and down the stairs.
“Just a few blocks, until we can get a cage to come get you.”
“Okay,” she said breathlessly, fighting the effects of whatever he’d given her and losing now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off.
“Goddamnit Dahlia – whatever happened to being safe?” I demanded.
“I was,” she said feebly as we stepped awkwardly over the bottom part of the door.
“Get her a few blocks out,” I commanded and passed her off to D.T.
He took her and said, “Triangle.”
I nodded. He meant he would post up over near the old historic Triangle Pub near the end of the city’s historical district near the football stadium.
Tic-Tac came down the stairs with a pillowcase full of shit. I nodded. Good man – make it look like a robbery.
“Let’s go,” he said and we got on our bikes. Dump Truck was already away.
“Triangle!” I called over the roar and with a nod, Tic-Tac fell in beside me. I pressed the button on my Bluetooth and got it to ask me who I wanted to call.
There was only one person I knew that could handle this shit, who would do what needed doing simply because I needed her to. Who wouldn’t ask questions and who I could, without a doubt, rely on.
“Zaychik,” I said into the receiver when she answered the line.
“Is she okay?” she asked first, and I knew I was making the right call.
“Yeah, but I need a favor from you.”
“Anything,” she said, and I knew she meant it.
“You know how to drive?”
“Do I know how? Yes. Can I? If I had a car. Do I have my license? No.”
“Get dressed, in the kitchen by the back door there’s a set of keys. Dump Truck is coming to get you. Ride with him to the Public Storage in Burien. The gate code is 9278, the storage locker is 98. He knows where it is and which key. I need you to follow him to where we are and drive Dahlia. Can you do all that for me?”
“I did say anything, Maverick. The question is, is she going to be cool with me or is she going to act like a dumb bitch?”
“I think she OD’ed on dumb bitch juice tonight. Tic-Tac and I will be with her. It’ll be okay.”
“On my way, sort of. I mean, I’ll be ready when Dump Truck gets here.”
“Thanks,” I said, pulling into the lot across the street from the Triangle. Dump Truck was sitting astride his bike, Dahlia sagging back against his chest. Looks like the drugs won.
“What’s the plan?” Dump Truck called as soon as I shut off my bike.
“Tic-Tac and I are staying here with Dahlia, you’re heading to my place, pick up Marisol and take her to my storage unit. She’ll drive the El Camino down; you just lead her here. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“You sure, P? I can always call up Little Bird.”
“Marisol’s used to violence,” I said. “No offense, brother, but your Little Bird is a delicate thing.”
“When you’re right, you’re right. Still, fuck the extra steps. I’ll run Marisol to my place, and we’ll grab my grocery getter. It’ll be faster than messing with gates in the middle of the fucking night.”
“Didn’t want to impose,” I said, lifting Dahlia and taking her off his hands.
Tic-Tac took her off mine, holding onto her tight, muttering to her. I knew he had a soft spot for her, even though I swore they should be oil and water, they somehow managed to jive. I’d even go as far as to say he was Dahlia’s favorite out of the guys, which was saying something.
“No imposition, man. Dahlia’s family.”
He swung his leg back over, twisting in his seat so he wasn’t sitting backward anymore, and he fired up his bike.
“Hurry up as soon as you get a chance.”
“Say no more, I’m gone,” he said and left us with a shivering and sick Dahlia who retched on Tic-Tac’s boots.
“Fucking great,” I muttered. I had no fucking idea what kind of shit that douchebag had given her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marisol…
It was a harrowing trip in the middle of the night, but I rode with Dump Truck back to his place where he handed me a key to Little Bird’s car. When he’d picked me up,
he’d said there was a slight change of plans in favor of expediency and truthfully, I was relieved. I had no idea what kind of car Maverick kept in storage, but I was betting it was worth a hell of a lot. Driving Little Bird’s automatic SUV thing would be a hell of a lot easier and a lot less nerve-racking.
I followed Dump Truck downtown and to this weird parking lot near the football stadium. Maverick and Tic-Tac were both near their bikes, holding Dahlia up between them and sweet Jesus, she looked rough – her lipstick smeared, her eyeliner and mascara in muddy tracks down her face.
“She’s fuckin’ freezin’,” Tic-Tac declared as Dump Truck opened the back door. I turned the heat on in the cabin to blasting from the vents as they got her in the back seat.
“What happened to her?” I asked.
“Not for us to say,” Tic-Tac said, and I nodded. He was one brother I didn’t want to piss off. He seemed angry all the time, so pissing him off was a real short trip.
“Take her back to our place. You don’t mind, we’ll bring the cage back to the shop tomorrow like usual,” Maverick said, and I could tell he was agitated. Unhappy.
“You do what you gotta do,” Dump Truck said. “You need anything else?”
“Nah, bro. Take your ass home to your woman.” Maverick laid his jacket over Dahlia and shrugged back into his cut.
“Don’t have to tell me twice, holler if you need something else.” Dump Truck waved, revved his bike once and pulled back out onto First Avenue back the way we’d come from.
“Follow me home,” Maverick said and leaned across the seats to press a fast kiss to my lips.
“I’ll follow you guys, pitch this shit off the West Seattle Bridge,” Tic-Tac said.
“Sounds good,” Maverick declared and shut the door, leaving me and Dahlia in the hushed dark of the SUV.
“Just fuckin’ great,” she slurred from the back seat. “I suppose you’ll lord this over me forever.”
“Depends,” I said as Maverick started up his bike. “Stop being a bitch and I won’t be tempted to.”
Dahlia barked a bitter laugh and said, “Maybe I misjudged you.”
“You did,” I declared, and pulled around to follow Mav. The territory around here was still unfamiliar when it came to me getting around on my own.
“Maybe I did,” she said, and her voice was strained.
“We can forget about it for now,” I said. “Get through tonight and you can go back to hating me or whatever, but for right now? Let’s get you taken care of…”
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?” I countered.
“Why would you do that for me?”
I sighed and said, “Because that’s what family does… at least that’s what a normal family does.”
She didn’t say anything after that, and I didn’t either. I followed Maverick home, pulled up to the back of the house, and helped him help Dahlia inside and to the couch. We’d lost Tic-Tac somewhere on the high point of the bridge, somewhere over the water, but he caught up quickly. I heard him pull up out back as we got Dahlia settled.
“How is she?” he demanded, coming in through the back door.
“Tired,” I said, getting a cool glass of water at the sink. “Sick.”
“What can I do?” he demanded and the look on his face… It was the same anguished look Maverick had given me when I’d stepped out of the bathroom back at the lodge at the Lake Run.
I softened and wondered for how long Tic-Tac had been in love with Dahlia.
“She’s a mess, maybe get a washcloth from the bathroom? She could probably stand to brush her teeth, she said she threw up.”
“Yeah, good idea. Thanks, Zaychik.”
I snorted a laugh and he paused mid-step.
“What?”
“Just sounds funny when you say it,” I said.
“Yeah, Russian ain’t my first language,” he shot over his shoulder and went for the bathroom.
I went in to where Maverick was crouched by the couch, talking softly with Dahlia, a little annoyed I didn’t know what they were saying, and confused at the same time. What Mav was speaking was clearly one language but what Dahlia was speaking back was another.
“What is that?” I asked, holding down the glass. Maverick took it.
“Russian outta me, Italian out of her,” he said.
“Oh, if you guys don’t need anything else right now, I’m going to go back to bed,” I said.
“Thank you, Zaychik.”
“Of course.” I gave his shoulder a light squeeze and smiled at Dahlia who was looking quite a bit more with it than she had earlier, the effects of whatever wearing off.
“Thank you,” she said, and I gave a nod.
“Truce?”
She nodded, winced, and stopped the motion, echoing back, “Truce.”
“Look at you go.” I smiled at the gentle teasing in Maverick’s tone as I went down the hall, nearly colliding with Tic-Tac as he came out of the bathroom, a dripping washcloth in one hand and a dry towel in the other.
“Goodnight,” I murmured, and he gave me a nod.
“Night, and… um… thanks for doing that. I know you and Dahlia don’t get along, so…”
“I think we might be getting over our differences,” I said gently.
“I hope so,” he said, and I smiled.
“Never a dull moment,” I said lightly, and he chuckled.
“Welcome to the life.”
We smiled at each other one last time and passed in the hall. The phrase like ships in the night, came to my mind, but that was just silly. Didn’t passing like ships in the night mean we would have passed silently, neither knowing the other was there? I think that was what that meant.
I dressed for bed and as I was getting beneath the blankets, the bedroom door opened and Maverick stepped in. He shut the door tightly but quietly behind him and came over, dropping onto the side of the bed, the weight of the world on his shoulders and I cocked my head.
He hung his and looked at me sideways and I could see the fear and the pain radiate from him.
“Oh, baby,” I murmured and got up onto my knees, putting my arms around him. He leaned heavily into me and sighed out, sagging into the curve of my arms and I just held him, kissing the top of his head, providing comfort where I could like he had for me countless times…
“What happened?” I asked and he looked up, searched my face, and spilled. He told me all of it, and I sat in silence just soaking it all in.
“Why did he do that? I mean, why would anyone do that?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Zaychik. Why does anyone do anything?”
“She okay?” I asked.
He nodded and said, “Tic-Tac is staying out there with her tonight.”
I nodded sagely and declared, “Well Dahlia’s safe and it sounds like this guy got what he deserved. Are you sure you guys got away clean?”
“Only time will tell,” he said.
“Well, then we’ll worry about it only if and when the cops come knocking,” I said.
He nodded slowly, considering me and I smiled gently.
“You’re too good to me,” he said finally.
“Only because you were good to me first,” I whispered and we both just sort of naturally leaned forward and kissed gently. “Come to bed and let me hold you for a minute,” I whispered, and he nodded gently.
“I’d like that.”
The next morning was… interesting, to say the least.
I came out of the bedroom wrapped in a satin robe that Maverick had bought me off Amazon, so I would be more comfortable around the house. I just wasn’t comfortable being nude all the time, even when it was just me and Mav. The way I was raised, you kept your clothes on.
I’d left Maverick sleeping and crept down the hall stopping short at the end of it when I caught sight of Tic-Tac and Dahlia.
They were locked in an embrace on the couch and it was beautiful, but also sort of sad.
Dahlia held Tic-Tac, n
ot the other way around. His head rested on her chest, ear over her coffin tattoo piece, his face almost angelic, slack with sleep. Dahlia ran her fingernails along his scalp lightly, running her hands through his chin length blond curls, a soothing almost maternal gesture, a slight smile on her face and a gentleness to her I don’t think I’d ever seen before. I mean, she was a hard lady.
Likewise, Tic-Tac, who always seemed angry, was the most at peace I had ever seen him. His eyes closed, drifting under Dahlia’s light touch.
Clearly, I had stepped into something intimate and if I moved wrong, I would be caught standing here like a total creeper perving on that intimate moment. I carefully retreated into the hall out of sight and half coughed, half sneezed to alert them to my presence before stepping back out into the living room.
One set of blue and one set of dark eyes fixed on me from the couch as I stepped out this time.
“Morning,” I murmured and they both just stared at me, not saying a word.
Great, I thought to myself.
“Coffee?” I asked and that seemed to engage them a little more.
“Yes, please, oh, my God!” Dahlia rolled her eyes at the suggestion like it was the most heavenly thing she devised could happen right this moment. Tic-Tac just grunted what sounded like assent but didn’t look at all happy about it. I think that had more to do with me shattering the peace, though. I smiled and slipped around the corner, back through to the kitchen to get a pot brewing.
Dahlia wandered in a moment after I heard the bathroom door shut. She slid up onto one of the kitchen stools and sighed asking, “So, how old are you and when’s your birthday?”
I rolled my eyes and said, “Strange way to make peace.”
“I’m trying here, in my own way, now just answer the fucking question,” she said and plastered on this award-winning smile. I had to laugh.
“I turn twenty the beginning of the month after next,” I said, and she nodded slowly, looking me over as though reevaluating me. Like she was taking my measure with fresh eyes. I ignored that part and went about brewing a fresh, strong pot of coffee. We were all dragging ass today and it showed in the dark circles beneath our eyes and the tired lines etched around our mouths.
