by Ward, H. M.
I sit up and swing my legs to the floor. “Does he know you call him that?”
“What? Like he’d be offended. It’s the perfect dessert, all rich and white.” She giggles and then slaps her hand over her mouth. “Uh, you didn’t see that.”
I roll my eyes. “You are so mental. If you like him, ask him out.”
“He’s a rock star, Avery. You don’t just walk up to the guy and say, ‘hey, you wanna go out with me?’ Plus, Miss Black will kill me.”
“Miss Black wants to kill you anyway. And you should do what you want. Life’s too short.” I feel a dazed look settle on my face—the one I have when my mind starts to wade through dark thoughts. My mind is a goddamn swamp. No matter which direction I turn, there’s more dark sludge. It’s everywhere.
“So, why’d Mr. Pampered-Ass run?”
I look over at her with a sheepish grin. “I told him he was a coward.”
Mel’s jaw drops. “Holy shit on toast! You did not!”
“I did. He asked what I wanted and I told him—I want him to stop running from himself.”
“Psh, if that’s not the blind leading the blind, I don’t know what is.”
“It is not.”
“It is so. You’re gonna lead that boy right off a cliff. Avery, you don’t even have your own shit together. How can you ask him to do that when you can’t?”
I puff up, offended. “I can so!”
“Avery girl, I love you, but you can’t see past your tits on this. You cower and hide from life the same way he does. How you choose to manifest that fear is different and more socially acceptable, but you’re both in the flame out stage. You’re no better than him.”
It feels like she punched me in the stomach. I raise my voice and wag a finger in her face. “You don’t know shit about this, okay. You don’t know Sean or what he’s done. We’re not the same.”
“Yeah, that’s where you’re wrong. You’re both candy-coated crazy people. You seem all sweet on the outside, but once you get past that outer shell, you’re both a fucking mess. If you can’t admit that, I don’t know if we can be friends. It’s one of the only things we have in common.” She smiles at me. “Avery, you have to know that about yourself. Are you seriously sitting there, telling me that you had no fucking clue?”
Am I really that messed up? I thought I was healing. My hackles lower a little bit and I admit, “It’s not intentional.”
“Of course not, and that’s the point. It’s a defense mechanism—you can’t turn it off. If you tried, you’d have nothing to shield yourself with. You just told Wonderbread that he’s a coward for leaving his defenses up. The man’s been through some serious shit.”
“And you’re defending him…”
“If that’s your main issue with the guy, yeah.”
“He put some call girl in South Oaks.”
“Did he light her on fire or fuck her?” I glance at her like she’s crazy. “Uh, Avery, call girls are there to be screwed. If she didn’t want him to do her, she shouldn’t have taken the job. If he lit her on fire or buried her alive to listen to her scream, then I’d be more concerned.”
“He doesn’t do that, but he likes fear. He thrives on it.”
“Dark fucker, isn’t he?” I nod. “Kind of like me. Well, since you two are no longer an item, I want Sean. I bet I can make him cry.”
“He’ll make you cry and beg for mercy.” I know she’s teasing, trying to get a rise out of me, but I don’t take her bait.
Mel slaps her hands on her jean-clad knees, “Well, if that’s all, then I—”
Mel is ready to walk away, but the offer from Black is still bobbing up and down in my thoughts. Every time I consider it, I think it’s ridiculous and shove it back down, but it pops up again. I blurt it out before she can finish her sentence. “Black offered to make me madam.”
Mel is half standing, with her butt sticking out and her hands still on her knees, when she pauses. Her jaw drops and she sits back down. “White girl say what?”
“Hey, that’s my catch phrase.”
“Yeah, it didn’t sound right coming out of this luscious mouth. But enough of that. Black seriously offered?” I nod and go into the details. When I finish Mel is uncharacteristically silent. “What’d you say?”
“She told me to think about it.”
“Are you going to do it?”
“I don’t know.” I’m picking at my nails as I speak. “I’m kind of thinking that it depends on what happens with Sean, but then I’m depending on Sean for everything. Black tapped into one of my biggest fears and twisted.”
“I’d let you stay with me, but I’m screwed everyway ‘til Tuesday until they catch whoever shot my twin.”
I blink at her. “She looked like you.”
Mel puts her hands on her hips and tips her head to the side. “Yeah, we’ve been through this already. You saw her, thought she was me…”
My brain is grabbing at strings and my neck prickles. I don’t know what it is, but something is off. I can’t place my finger on it. “Wait a second.” I pull out my phone and call Black.
“What?” she snaps.
“The girl you sent to check on us at the hotel—what’d she look like?”
Black sighs dramatically into the phone. “Avery, I don’t have time for your—”
I’m insane and cut her off, saying each word staccato. “What. Did. She. Look. Like?”
Black huffs and spits out a description. “It was Tawny—dark hair with ghastly gold streaks, Caucasian, with olive skin, green eyes, about five foot seven, and a buck ten.”
“And she died?”
“Yes! Avery, we’ve been over this already.” Miss Black is yelling at me, but she’s wrong. Her information is totally wrong and she doesn’t know. “Unless you have something helpful to add, or you’re accepting your new position, I suggest you hang up.”
Done. I disconnect and stare at Mel. “There’s another dead body.”
20
“What? Who?” Mel’s golden eyes go wide.
“The girl that was in the room—the one who looked freakishly like you—wasn’t the girl Black sent over. It was someone else. Black assumed the dead call girl was hers. She never saw the body and the police still haven’t released her name, but I saw her.” I shake my head and shiver. Continuing, I think out loud, “That means the original hooker that Black sent to our room was either in on it or she’s dead.” I tell Mel what Black told me.
“I know Tawny and that wasn’t her. I’m calling her.” Mel pulls out her phone and dials. After a second she hangs up. “It went straight to voicemail.”
“Her battery is dead.”
“Or she’s at the bottom of the bay.” Mel tenses and presses the edge of the phone to her lips.
“Mel, I don’t like this. What if it’s just some random person killing off Black’s girls? I mean, they tried to take a shot at me, they tried for you, and Tawny’s missing.” My throat’s grown so tight that I can’t swallow. “What if this has nothing to do with Sean and everything to do with Black?”
Mel’s golden gaze cuts over to me. “I don’t trust Black, period. But offering her own staff up to be slaughtered isn’t like her. Especially you and me. We’re her bread and butter. No one out earned me until you came along.”
I add, “Black has a pretty big fear of being poor.”
“I can’t blame her.” Mel rubs her hands over her face and shakes her head. “It makes no fucking sense. Someone is playing us and I’m inclined to think it’s one of the fucked up Ferros since all this started when Sean came around.”
“It’s not him.” I say it with complete conviction.
“But how do you know?”
“I just do.”
“That’s a shitty answer when people are getting whacked, Avery, and you know it.”
“It’s not Sean.” I repeat myself with utter confidence. Standing, I start to pace while rubbing my chin. “Sean has his own stuff going on, and he only fights back
when prompted.”
“What about that shit with Trystan on the way in?”
“There’s bad blood between them.”
“But Rockstar didn’t start that fight. Your boy did.”
“And no one ended up dead in a dumpster either, Mel. Come on, think! What are we missing?”
We’re both quiet for a long time. I keep trying to pin this on Naked Guy or Henry Thomas, but something feels off. It’s too easy to pin it on one of them and there’s no real motive. Well, not one worth killing for. Henry is embarrassed and irate that Sean stole someone he wanted, again. Henry’s also pissed that Amanda died, but it doesn’t make sense for him to kill me to get back at Sean, not if Henry actually liked me. That’s the part that doesn’t fit in his puzzle.
Maybe he didn’t like you. Maybe he was using you. My inner-voice is a pain in the ass.
Mel huffs and shakes her head, still on the bench. “It makes no sense. We’ve got someone shooting at you and me. Maybe it’s a vendetta against Black?”
“By who?” I turn and look at her. “Who would want to wipe out her staff, because that’s what it looks like they’re doing. That’s why Black wants to protect me and she sure as hell doesn’t want anything to happen to you.”
Mel makes a sound of disbelief. “She doesn’t give a flying fart what happens to me.”
Shaking my head, I correct her. “I asked to take you with me, if I accepted the position as a madam. Black said no.”
Mel glances up at me with her eyebrows pinched together. “That’s weird.”
“Not if you’re her main girl. I mean she’d want to keep you around.”
“Yeah, but she’s sending you off. Someone doesn’t want us talking to each other. They think we’ll figure things out.” Mel bites her lip as she thinks.
I lean against the wall and tap my nails on the thick dark paint. “Mel, I don’t know how to handle this. If we call the cops, there’s nothing to tell them.”
“And they’ll throw my ass in jail. No cops.” Her eyes are wide and frightened.
“So, what can we do?”
“It’s simple. This is the way things were on the streets where I grew up. No one saves you, except you. There’s no white knight, no police officer that will rescue you. It’s time to fight or die, Avery.”
I repeat Mel’s old words, softly, “Surviving justifies anything.”
“Fuck, yeah.”
21
I’m nervous, but I try to shove back the emotions. If I’m a psychotic troll, then I won’t notice what’s going on. Emotions cloud my judgment and make me second-guess myself. That won’t help me now. I have to trust my gut and that’s all there is to it. Daddy used to say that the best decisions are the ones you can feel. They have no explanation—you just know.
That’s why I find Sean. He’s sitting at a table with a half empty bottle of whiskey. I’m exhausted and ready to fall asleep on my feet. When I sit down, I know that I’m going to have trouble getting up again. Sean doesn’t acknowledge me, so I speak first. I offer the thing I want, because there’s no way to communicate how I feel. I’m mad at him and disappointed, but l don’t want to fight anymore.
I reach across the table and touch the back of his hand. “Come to bed with me.”
Sean doesn’t move. Instead, he stares at my fingers on his. After a moment I withdraw my touch and repeat myself. That’s when he finally speaks. “Avery, I can’t.”
“I need to sleep and so do you.”
His eyes flick up. They’re filled with so many emotions that I can barely stand to look at him. It’s as if the man has been torn in two and is still alive. It’s cruel and merciless, washing over him again and again like the waves pounding against the shore. He can’t escape his agony. “Not this time.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. We don’t have to talk. I just want you near me—we don’t have to touch. I know you don’t want that right now. Come with me, Sean. Jonathan said there’s an office in back with an inflatable bed. He already blew it up for me. Don’t make me go alone.”
There are sharp words on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows them back. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Sleep.”
“No, after that. Tomorrow and the next day. One moment you seem fine with who I am and what I’ve done, and the next you’re calling me a coward.” Sean is leaning back in his chair while he rubs the side of his shot glass with this thumb.
“Nothing good comes after 3am and it’s so far past that, Sean. We’re both exhausted. Let’s sleep for a while and talk about it later.” My eyelids are lead and I swear to God that my head is going to fall forward and hit the table in a matter of moments. It sways on my shoulders as my lids droop.
“You still trust me?”
“Yes.” There’s no hesitation, no question about it. I completely trust him. Sean watches me as I put my head on my hand and lean heavily upon it. “Do you trust me?”
The corner of his lips twitches. “That’s a silly question.”
My elbow starts to slide and my head is going down. I can’t stop it. I rest my over-sided, extra heavy melon on my arms as I fold them on top of the table. “I’m a silly girl.”
“No, you’re not. That’s why I’m having so much trouble with you. Avery?”
I hear his voice, but I can’t speak any longer. I’m too tired. “Mmmm?”
“Don’t leave me.”
Turning my head, I open my eyes and smile at him, sleepily. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me, Mr. Jones.” My words turn to a whisper as my eyes close. Sean’s voice fills my ears a moment later, but I have no idea what he’s saying. When I don’t respond, I’m jostled awake as I’m lifted from my chair. When my feet won’t move to walk, Sean swears under his breath, and then lifts me into his arms.
He carries me back into the room with the blow-up bed, muttering, “So much for not touching for a while.”
22
My dreams are strange. The drowning nightmare collides with something new. One second I have the watery noose around my neck and the next I’m holding a gun and the walls are bleeding my name. I’ve shot someone. The pilot. A second after he dies, the man stands. His face is disturbing—it’s ghostly pale and rigor has set in, so all his loose flesh is pressed to the side. Crimson overflows from his eyelids, pouring down his chalky cheeks like twin rivers of blood. He moves so slowly, but I feel like I can’t escape. The man reaches for my neck and strangles me. Just as I suck in my last breath he explodes. Pieces of flesh fly in every direction and splatter against me. I scream and see Sean standing in blood red smoke. He walks toward me holding a noose. His voice sounds like he’s a million miles away even though he’s right in front of me. “Everything I touch...”
When his cold fingers press against my cheek, I screech, terrified. Suddenly, I’m in a box and the packaging peanuts are sucked out. The cardboard turns to silk and I realize it’s a coffin. I scream until my throat is raw and my lungs burn, but no one saves me.
Mel stands at my graveside, above me, patting her eyes with a tissue. “I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen.” She’s talking to Marty, who says nothing. “Surviving justifies anything.”
The inside of the casket turns to fire and as the flames lick my feet, I can’t stand it anymore. I scream as I sit upright. I’ve clawed the satin off the coffin and it’s wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. Tears streak my cheeks as I thrash, trying to get out.
That’s when I feel hands on my shoulders and hear his voice, “You’re all right. Wake up, Avery. Avery…?”
When my eyes open, I’m terrified. Sean is holding my shoulders and watching me. I want to break down and cry. I want to fall into his arms and purge my sorrow until there isn’t any left, but I can’t. “I’m fine.” I snap the words, embarrassed, and pull away from him. The blankets are tangled around my hips and legs.
“I didn’t want to wake you, but you were—”
“I’m fine.” I repeat the
words again, more sternly this time.
“Very well.” Sean leans back against the bed. He’s still wearing his clothes. I’m in a shirt and no slacks. Getting tangled in the bedding always makes my nightmares worse, but this was the most horrific one I’ve ever had. I’m sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“All right, then, let’s get some food and get out of here for a while.”
“Sean,” I turn to look back at him, wondering what he wants from me. The room is cold and nasty looking. It’s as if it hasn’t been cleaned in a decade. Grime covers the walls and paint is old and cracked. There are filing cabinets along the opposite wall and a metal door to lock the employees out. I’m surprised Jon let us in here, especially with the way he and Sean are at each other’s throats.
Emptiness consumes me and I shiver. I don’t know what to do. I feel so lost. The one place I want to be, I’m not allowed. Sean won’t let me touch him.
Sean must read my thoughts because he holds out his arms toward me. “Come here.” I do as he says and crawl toward him on the bed. It gives beneath me and I crash into his chest. Sean’s strong arms close tightly around me and he kisses the top of my head. “This is where you belong.”
I know he doesn’t like me against his chest, so it’s weird to hear him say it. I hedge, “No one gets this close to your heart for long. I know that. It’s all right, Sean. I’m asking too much.”
“But maybe you’re right. Maybe you should be that close to me. Maybe I should drop my walls a little, at least around you. You trusted me to do things that terrify you because it’s what I needed. I can do the same for you. I can hold you. I can let you in.”
Tears sting my eyes and I start blinking rapidly, trying to chase them away. “Don’t say things like that to me.” I push away from him. I can’t take any more promises that crumble in my hands. I’m completely mental.
