Bleed Through

by Arrington, Adriana

  Is that a note of disbelief in her voice?

  “I’m not sure. I’ve never seen him there before, but that doesn’t mean much.”

  “Talk about unbelievable coincidences. Honestly, Liam, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you made this all up.” She uncrossed her arms and stabbed at a piece of white fish. The overcooked flesh broke into several pieces and scattered across her plate as she flung down her fork.

  “What about your stepdad? Would he know the guy?”

  Liam shrugged. “Probably. But he wouldn’t believe me if I told him about the murder.”

  “Why not?”

  Besides being the most unreliable witness in the history of unreliable witnesses?

  “I have a bit of an unfortunate ‘Chicken Little’ syndrome trailing me.”

  The crucifix on her throat disappeared as she clasped it in her fingers and tugged on it. “You’re in a tight spot, Liam.”

  Finally. Somebody had enough sense to agree with him.

  He wiped his sweaty palms on his shorts. “There’s more. The killer demands I pay him $200 for some drugs I accidentally took.”

  “I’m not even going to ask how you ‘accidentally’ took some drugs.” She dropped her head forward and rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you have the cash?”

  “No. I can’t pay him.”

  The table jolted as she slapped her hands on it, silverware and plates clinking from the impact.

  “The situation has moved beyond our capabilities. I stand by my first suggestion. You’ve got to call in an anonymous tip. If the police find the drugs, they also might find signs of the murder.”

  He bit the inside of his cheek. “All right. But I’ve got to make the call from here. I don’t want them to track it back to my house.”

  “Excellent idea. You need to be cautious.” She picked at some suspicious-looking fish sticks on her plate. “You’ve accomplished the unimaginable. I’m too worried to eat regular food. I require chocolate.” She pushed out from the table and glowered at him. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

  Despite his worries, Liam took the opportunity to admire her cutoff jeans and what filled them out. The woman certainly knew how to wear a pair of shorts. His thoughts wandered into slightly dangerous territory and distracted him so much that at first he didn’t notice his new visitor.

  ypical Mai,” a woman said. She startled Liam out of his pleasant trance and sat next to him, scowling.

  “You’re a friend?” A deep blush blossomed across his cheeks. He had no illusions about what a letch he must’ve looked like while ogling Mai.

  She didn’t offer her hand, nor did she answer his question. “I’m Thanh. And I suppose you must be the new project, Liam.”

  “Mai mentioned me?” He sounded more pathetic than he liked.

  “Unfortunately.”

  Where Mai was nicely rounded, Thanh was all bones and angles. What his father would’ve called angry skinny.

  Thanh leaned back into the orange booth, crunching its crackled plastic coating. “You don’t have an ounce of sense, do you?”

  “Maybe an ounce, but not much more.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Here you’ve got a woman like Mai interested in a… man… like you, and you bring her here? I don’t care if she’s enlisted you on her way to achieving mediocrity. You ought to know better.”

  Of course he knew better, but he had the minor problem of not being able to afford another restaurant. The ancient booth creaked under his shifting weight.

  “I’m going to save Mai some heartache this time around. You’re not good enough for her, nor will you ever be. The mere fact you agreed to bring her here tells me you’re not ready for her. Don’t let her silly campaign for normalcy fool you.”

  His mouth went dry. Thanh spoke the truth. He’d hurt Mai.

  A plate loaded with treats banged down on the table. “Thanh! How’d you find me?” asked Mai. She shot an apprehensive glance at Liam and mouthed “sorry” with a shake of her head. Whether the “sorry” referred to Thanh and her manners or to finishing their conversation later, he wasn’t sure.

  “Are you kidding? I looked for the nearest, grossest place I could find. Bingo!” Thanh smiled and shook her head. “How can you stand to eat this crap?”

  “I consider it a character-building experience.” Mai nudged her plate to the middle of the table. She looked knowingly at Thanh. “Don’t play. You know you want some.”

  “Only because you’ve completely ruined my taste buds.” Thanh leaned over the plate, broke off a chunk of chocolate chip cookie, and popped it in her mouth. “Terrible,” she said after swallowing.

  Mai laughed. “So you don’t want any more?” She shielded the plate with her shoulder and took a bite out of a lemon bar, but not before Thanh sneaked a stealthy hand across the table and retrieved the rest of the cookie.

  If he’d been a braver man, he would’ve tried to grab a piece of brownie from the shared plate. But if he stuck his hand anywhere near it, he risked a swat from either woman. No lemon bar, spoonful of pudding, or chocolate cake justified the injury he’d earn if he dared disrupt their routine.

  After they’d polished off the last of the desserts, Mai pointed her chin toward Liam. “By the look on his face, I’d wager you gave him your typical speech?”

  Thanh threw an exasperated hand in the air. “I refuse to accept this ordinary charade of yours. You’re one of the kindest, most thoughtful, intelligent people I know. Why is that so hard for you to admit?”

  “I refuse to be miserable in a so-called pursuit of happiness. You’ve seen what it’s done to my sister. So she’s at the top of her class at Yale. It doesn’t matter because she hates her life. It won’t get better for her when she graduates either. She’ll be so intent on being at the top of her field she’ll never be happy. I measure success by happiness, not credentials.”

  “Fine. But don’t settle for less than you deserve.” Thanh’s eyes flicked at Liam.

  “Everybody deserves happiness. And how they achieve happiness is up to them.” Mai patted her clenched lips with a balled up paper napkin.

  “All right, all right. Enough of this conversation. Let’s talk about something else. How are your applications coming?” Thanh said.

  A wave of lightheadedness hit Liam, and he grasped the edge of the table. “What applications?”

  “To colleges where I can finish my BA. Twelve more credits until I’m done with my associate’s and can transfer.” Mai looked at him questioningly. “What’s your plan?”

  He needed a plan other than moving out of his mother’s house and maintaining stability? “Same as yours, of course. Where are you applying?”

  “A couple of different places. UF, Miami. One or two spots up north.”

  “Mai is trying to break my heart.” Thanh held her hand on her chest. “We made a pact long ago that the two of us would end up as Gators at the University of Florida. But now she’s entertaining the idea of leaving the great sunshine state and going to school in Virginia.

  “Have you seen some of the Spring Breakers from that state? They look downright depressed when they get here in March, all pale and anemic.” She looked down her nose at him. “Sort of like you, really. Anyhow, she’s got her eye on some small college specializing in historic preservation.”

  Thanh sighed. “Historic preservation, Liam. Can you imagine a mere college major separating us?”

  He ignored her question. White fringe had appeared around Mai once again. He watched as it formed the same battered photograph of her grandfather he’d seen in the diner.

  “I suppose a historic preservation major makes sense. It’ll certainly help you achieve your goal of restoring your grandfather’s grave,” he said.

  Thanh froze. “You told him?” A hint of accusation and jealousy crept through her voice.

  Mai looked off to the side. “Liam’s not as normal as you think.”

  “Apparently not.” Thanh eyeballed the two of them like a prison guard
scrutinized new convicts. She tapped her watch. “It’s time to get back to campus. I’ll give you a ride, Mai.” She picked up her handbag before standing and tapping her foot.

  Ice cubes sloshed together in Liam’s drink as Mai slid out from the booth. “We’re nowhere near finished with our conversation. Meet me after class?” she asked.

  “Can’t today. But I’ll give you a call.”

  “Not without my number.” Mai scribbled down her contact info on a napkin and let it float down to his lap. “Don’t make me worry about you.”

  “Never.” Liam gave his best attempt at a disarming smile.

  The ladies waved as they walked out of the restaurant, arm in arm. Thanh shot him a level look over her shoulder before she let the door swing shut.

  He’d seen that look plenty of times before.

  She didn’t trust him. Nor did she like him.

  Join the freaking club.

  He settled the bill, which exhausted his paltry funds, then drove around until he found the nearest pay phone, a more difficult task than he’d imagined. Nobody used payphones but criminals anymore. He finally found one behind the parking lot of a fast food joint. A sticky substance clung to the receiver as he picked it up and dialed.

  “9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” a crisp voice said.

  “I’ve got information regarding narcotics on Tyndall AFB. A drug dealer is storing cocaine under one of the docks at the base marina.” He plunged his finger down on the payphone’s metal switch, and the dial tone cut off the dispatcher’s next question.

  He’d done his part. If the memory imprint really had revealed the past, the Air Force Security Forces would find evidence of murder.

  y the time Liam arrived home, flashes of green and red dotted the marina. Security Forces had acted on his anonymous tip. An unfamiliar sensation of gratification rolled over him. For the first time in his life, the authorities had believed him.

  He parked under the carport and ambled down the slight hill that led to the yacht club. A Security Forces sedan parked sideways in the road, blocking the marina from traffic. Liam bypassed the blockade by staying on the sandy lawn. A loud whistle stopped his progress.

  “Sir, the marina is closed. You need to leave the premises,” a Security Force specialist barked at him. She held one hand out in caution and placed the other on a holstered gun. Security Forces didn’t screw around.

  He took a few more steps forward. “I live up the hill and wanted to check out what all the commotion was about.” He craned his neck to the side and saw both docks in the marina boiling with Security Forces activity.

  “I’m not at liberty to discuss the investigation. Turn around. Now.” She tapped her gun for emphasis.

  He held up his hands. “Got it. Guess my daily trip to the shoppette for a soda will have to wait.”

  The specialist didn’t laugh and set a steely gaze on him he’d bet didn’t waver until he reached Isaac’s house. The clicking of a hot engine recently turned off echoed from the carport. Allison was home.

  “Mom?” he called as he walked through the back door.

  Nobody answered. RP stepped out from under the dining room table in a languorous fashion, stretching his back paws and then front. A light-green object dangled between his fangs. Liam leaned over for a better view. An anole’s limp reptilian head hung from one end of RP’s mouth and its long, slender tail from the other.

  Liam wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

  The cat shook the lizard but didn’t attempt to run past Liam into the oppressive afternoon heat. He must’ve had his fill on Wednesday. The family hadn’t noticed him missing until the evening when he’d scratched at the back door to be let inside. Liam had played dumb about the animal’s escape, but Allison and Isaac had known better.

  Black and gray furry tail wrapped around him like a shield, RP stared at Liam. Atypically, he didn’t growl or hiss.

  “You must’ve found a nice lady friend outside and worked out some of your demons.” Liam tipped his head down. “You’re welcome.”

  RP flicked his tail in response. The anole stayed clamped in his jaws.

  The hum of the ancient air conditioner buzzed through the house as Liam made a quick circuit looking for his mother. Tasha’s room, full of pink and purple, radiated cheer even in her absence. Whereas mere mortals sloughed skin, she shed shimmery bits and pieces of positive energy like pixie dust. Whatever she touched glowed with warmth.

  Unable to find his mother indoors, he resorted to peeking through the front door’s peephole. Allison sat on the rusted yellow patio sofa. Lost in thought, she stared out toward the street. He reached for the handle to open the door but stopped cold when he saw his mother had a visitor.

  His breath hitched. Allison held the hand of a young boy, perhaps ten or so. The child leaned against her, chatting with a smile on his face, maybe about his day at school. He wore a blue, button-up shirt and bright-white new sneakers. Neatly trimmed auburn hair fell above his ears and eyebrows.

  Liam’s legs gave a little, and he had to clutch the door to keep from falling. He looked at a memory of himself. As he had been Before. Or at least how his mother had seen him.

  Allison smiled as she swung, her eyes set on the distant horizon and not her imagined son. Little Liam giggled at some whispered joke. He was happy and lovable. And sane.

  The projection, laced with more nostalgia and longing than a Norman Rockwell painting, sucker-punched him in the gut. He sank to his knees and leaned his head against the wall. He’d grown accustomed to the idea his mother had always kept her emotional distance. But that wasn’t true. Not so long ago, he’d adored her. Just as his father had. And his mother had, in turn, adored both of them. They’d all loved each other once upon a time.

  “It’s no wonder you feel sick. Your stupid memory is so sweet it’s cloying.” Joshua appeared next to Liam. He lounged lazily next to the front door and twirled a toothpick between his two front teeth. “Your mother used to think you were so perfect. But even then, I lived inside you. Remember?”

  “No, I don’t. You’re a liar.” Although he had an increasingly difficult time recalling life before Joshua, he did remember it’d been happy. Even if his tie to the past had loosened, his mother’s sharp memory made it clear. He’d been good once.

  “You were never good, Liam Murphy,” Joshua said.

  “Shut up.” A tear glided over the stubble he’d neglected to shave in the morning.

  Life hurt less when he didn’t remember.

  Joshua sat up straight and reared back with his fist, aiming straight for Liam’s mouth. He didn’t like backtalk. Muscles tensed, Liam braced for the impact.

  And then, a miracle happened.

  From under the dining room table, RP hissed, arched his tail in the air, and lowered his head to the ground in an attack stance. He sprang forward and barreled toward Joshua.

  Shocked by the cat’s attack, Joshua dropped his toothpick. “What the hell?” he screamed.

  RP sank his teeth into Joshua’s ankle and twisted to the side. Joshua howled, booted the cat off his leg with a hard kick, and then evaporated. RP crashed into the door next to Liam.

  Out of sheer habit, Liam shied away from the animal and kept a leery eye on him. “Did you just protect me?”

  Already recovered from his collision, the cat licked his lips in response. The two looked at each other, waiting for the other to pounce.

  The front door creaked open.

  “Liam?” Allison said. She must’ve heard the commotion RP caused while chasing off Joshua. “Are you okay?”

  Huddled in the corner, he inched his hand out to the cat. When RP didn’t bite, he rubbed the top of his head. “Yep. Making friends with the cat.”

  His mother stood in the doorframe, open wide to the outside. A few wisps of her braided hair had escaped, and due to the humidity, now curled around her face. She wore a black pantsuit that complimented her trim figure. Though she trained a neutral expression on her face, her eyes ope
ned wide in astonishment.

  “He’s letting you touch him?”

  “Guess so.”

  The bonding moment ended when RP stretched and sauntered away. Liam took his cue and stood as well.

  Allison stared at him, wordless and sad, most likely trying to reconcile the memory of her perfect son with the crumpled, exhausted version in front of her. If he had any spare emotional energy, he’d sympathize with her.

  “I’m sorry I ended up like this.” He waved a hand at his disheveled appearance. “It’s not how I wanted life to turn out either.”

  Tears sprung to her eyes. “I know. I’m sorry I haven’t been a better mother to you. I guess neither one of us received training for this.”

  Liam nodded and lifted a hand out to his mother. She grasped it and brought it close to her face so her now falling teardrops wet his palm.

  Throat thick with stifled emotion, he retrieved his hand from his sobbing mother and backed away. “I’ll be in my room until dinner.”

  “All right.” She eased a shaking hand into her pocket.

  It wasn’t all right, though, and it hadn’t been for a long, long time.

  asha scratched her knife over the white plate, doing her best to cut the pork chop into a bite-sized portion. But no six-year-old possessed the strength to properly slice through pork this tough. Allison favored cooking meat until she burned all life and flavor out of it. The scent of charred flesh wafted over the oval oak dinner table.

  “So then Alex pushed me and took my bubbles away,” Tasha complained. She’d been delivering a blow-by-blow account of her interaction with some little punk who liked to pester her at daycare.

  “Did you shove him back?” Liam asked. He jammed a dried-out puck of meat into his mouth.

  Allison and Isaac’s faces fell.

  Oh, right. His mother and stepfather only approved shoving imaginary people.

  Isaac wiped his hands on a napkin. “What I think your brother meant to say, sweetie, is that it’s not okay for Alex to push you.”

  “I know. I didn’t let him. I told the teacher about it,” Tasha said.