“Who are you?” he finally asked, reluctant to break the ethereal quality in which they were enshrouded. As he took in her porcelain skin and fine features, he noticed patches of red about her mouth as if she had rubbed coarse material on her face. Her eyes gleaming, she joined him on the bench, the very same bench where she had first encountered him the previous evening.
“I am Lilah, Brone,” she told him. Before he could react to her knowledge of his name, she spoke again, her next words turning his bowels to water.
“I killed that man for you.”
Chapter Four
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to sputter, but the look in her bright eyes knew all. “Who are you?”
She took his hand in hers and smiled gently. Brone could not understand the strange calm which had befallen him in light of the confession she had made.
“I am Lilah,” she said again.
“Why – who did you kill?”
A few feet away, two meth addicts were engaged in a screaming match by the chessboards, but neither Brone nor Lilah seemed to hear them as they continued to stare at one another, drinking in every detail of the other’s faces.
“I cannot tell you his name, but I believe you know of whom I speak.” Brone was flooded with a variety of emotions, completely at a loss of which direction to take. Denial? Anger? Gratefulness? How do I react to this woman? Why would she kill Feldman? A horrifying realization crossed his mind.
“He hurt you?” he asked dully, nausea threatening to overwhelm him. Lilah seemed perplexed by his words, and she slowly shook her flaxen hair, several stray strands teasing her eyes in the process. The junkies were growing louder, and several others had joined in the argument. It was evident that a physical altercation was about to ensue.
“Is there somewhere we can go to speak quietly?” she asked him. Without hesitation, Brone rose to his feet. He was becoming conspicuous sitting in the middle of the downtown core with a young woman. If what Lilah was saying was true, the police would be looking for someone matching her very unique description in the diverse city core. He then thought of the Syrian family who had stared at him so intently. They needed to get out of plain sight and quickly.
“We can go to my place,” he told her.
***
Scotty was not home, and Brone thanked the gods for small favors. He was not sure that he had the energy to explain a woman’s presence to his roommate nor did he want Lilah to encounter one of Scotty’s many conquests naked in the kitchen. It was shortly after one a.m. when Brone opened the door to the apartment. He gestured for Lilah to sit while he went in search of drinks in the kitchen. He desperately needed hard liquor.
“Do you want a drink, Lilah?” he called out to her. She was carefully walking about the flat, touching decorative pieces and peering at the artwork on the walls as if she had never been in someone’s home before that moment. In truth, Lilah was relishing the sense of being in a home not encumbered with the expectation of death. Anytime she had been in the domicile of another person, it had been exclusively for feasting. She had never taken the time to appreciate their surroundings or recognize that they had families and had gone on trips. Lilah had pushed those thoughts far from her mind, encased in guilt at stealing someone’s beloved from them. Yet this was different. She was an invited guest, and he was not immortal.
“Lilah? That is your name, right?” Brone called out to her again.
“Yes,” she agreed, nodding. “Yes, I will have some water.”
“Are you sure you don’t want anything stronger? Vodka? Gin? Gasoline?”
She was startled by the last question, and she raised her head. She immediately read the wry expression on his face and smiled tightly.
“No, thank you. Water is fine.” Lilah was not entirely certain she was clear headed, the man’s tainted blood being so heavily laced with alcohol and opiates. She needed to be sure that what she was experiencing with this mortal was not simply a side effect of intoxicants.
Brone shrugged and joined her in the living room where she had finally settled on the sectional couch. He placed her glass of water on a coaster in front of her, his eyes inadvertently trailing up her slender thigh toward her hips. She’s so tiny, he thought. Even if she is a working girl, she shouldn’t be out by herself at night being this small. Oh, wait a second, she’s a murderer too, just like you. A sarcastic smile formed on his lips.
“So, what do you want, Lilah? Money?” She blinked, staring intently at him, her head cocked to the side.
“Money? For what would I require currency?” she asked curiously. Brone’s mouth tightened into a fine line. As they had silently ridden back to his apartment, Brone’s highly intelligent mind was racing and then it had dawned on him instantaneously. Lilah was a working girl. She had seen him at the government housing and wanted to shake him down, probably recognizing him from the previous evening. Shit, she may even know Feldman. All these low lives know one another. He probably sent her after me. The sudden flood of paranoia which Brone was experiencing was completely out of character for the typically cool-headed man, but Lilah’s appearance had thrown his head into a tailspin. He did not know what to make of the elusive blonde. It did not help matters that she was exceedingly attractive and seemed to be pulsating some electromagnetic energy in his direction. Focus, Brone, focus. Figure out what she wants and send her on her way. You have dealt with worse than her in your life. Handle it and get her out of here so you can leave town.
“I’m assuming that Feldman put you up to this? Even calling you Lilah because it sounds like Lilyanna? Cute. Tell him he doesn’t have anything to worry about. I’m leaving town. He won’t see me again. Tell him he got away with this one.” At least for now, Brone thought grimly. But if I don’t get out of here, I won’t be able to come back for him later.
Lilah’s brow furrowed deeply as she struggled to make sense of Brone’s words.
“I do not understand,” she told him finally. “You seem cynical of my character. I have terminated the man you went to kill, but you find that unfathomable. Is it because I am a woman?”
“Okay, listen, lady, before you go all gender-equality on me, just tell me what the hell you want. Fine, you murdered Feldman for me. If that’s what Feldman wants me to believe, I’m good with that. Anything else?”
Lilah could feel the animosity emitting from Brone, and she began to doubt her instincts.
I made a mistake. I should not have sought him out. You should not have killed for him. There is nothing remarkable about this man. He is damaged and possibly mad. Your desolation is causing you act irrationally. You must leave before you put yourself in peril. Lilah rose to her feet slowly, her face pensive.
“I will leave you now,” she told him quietly. “I am sorry if I have caused you distress.”
“Distress? Nah. You’re just sitting here blackmailing me. Nothing stressful about that.” Lilah nodded although she did not understand, not really. She opted not to speak as she reached for the door and as she pulled on the knob, the portal flew inward, and Scotty strolled in with a man and a woman, one on each of his arm. Lilah stepped back, seemingly unstartled. His companions were barely conscious, falling over themselves toward the couch where they began to kiss passionately. Brone scowled at Scotty who peered surprised at Lilah’s presence.
“Well, well, well,” Scotty drawled. Brone could tell his roommate was high on cocaine, a telltale white powder ring around his nostril.
“Hi there, sexy girl,” Scotty purred at Lilah. She smiled briefly and exited the apartment, saying nothing as she disappeared into the corridor. A stab of guilt coursed through Brone. I need to send her home in a cab. She can’t walk this late, even if she is the devil. He brushed past Scotty and poked his head into the hall, but to his surprise, Lilah had already disappeared. He glanced both ways, unclear on how she could have vanished so quickly.
“Hey, something bad happened in Regent Park,” Scotty told him as he re-entered the con
do shaking his head, puzzled.
“Something bad always happens in Regent Park,” he snapped. Scotty laughed and sat beside the couple who had begun removing their clothes. Scotty’s hand found its way onto the woman’s bare thigh as her mate’s mouth moved toward her huge, pendulous breasts. Scotty’s hand began to rub slowly at her hip, but his dark eyes were firmly on Brone as he spoke.
“No, I mean something really bad,” Scotty told him. Brone’s eyes wandered toward the activity on the couch. The man had the woman’s rigid nipples in his mouth and was biting at them while she yelped like a startled puppy. She threw her dark hair back and closed her eyes, pushing her ample bosom further into his suckling mouth. Abruptly, Scotty slapped her half bare bottom with force, causing Brone to avert his stare. She jumped, and Scotty smiled beguilingly at her.
“You like that, Lisa, you dirty slut?” She whimpered and nodded, licking her lips.
“Fuck yes,” she purred.
“Are you going to elaborate, Scotty? Or are we playing twenty questions?” Brone interjected impatiently. He knew the temperature in the room was about to rise and he wanted to be on his way before things got ridiculous. Scotty turned his head toward the slightly overweight woman and pushed aside her nylon panties, so they rested in a bunch around her hips. He reached over and lowered his teeth into her plump ass, causing her to buck upward. Her hands were reaching for the man’s and Scotty’s crotches, simultaneously. Both assisted her, undoing their pants as she eagerly clutched their semi-erect members in her hands. Brone tried to look away as the man suckling her breasts sat back, allowing for her to take him in his mouth, his hand resting casually in her hair as her head bobbed up and down along his shaft.
“Hmmm?” Scotty asked, gazing at her skillful mouth winding over his friend’s aroused cock, his fingers, tracing over her skin lightly. The man began to groan, his hands wrapping into her dark hair and she tugged Scotty harder, saliva dribbling down her chin.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, turning back to his roommate. “They closed off Parliament. I swear all of Toronto Police Services is on the scene. Forensics, dogs, everything.”
The hairs on the back of Brone’s neck began to rise, and Scotty ripped Lisa’s panties clean off, leaving a red welt on her leg.
“Fuck me,” she begged Scotty over her shoulder before taking her mate fully into her throat. Scotty flashed Brone a smile, spreading the woman’s cheeks apart. He spat over her tight opening and poked a long finger in her ass. Brone shifted uncomfortably, his own pants tightening between his legs as Scotty adjusted his now rigid penis and plunged into her waiting snatch fluidly, his finger prodding at her other hole. She gagged on the flesh in her mouth, but the man held her neck down, gently pumping his unit further into her windpipe. Brone could see he was about to blow his load in her mouth, his face twisted in ecstasy while Scotty relentlessly pounded her from behind. Again, he turned to Brone, winking.
“Do you want in? There’s room for one more,” he said, gesturing at his soaking fingers dipping in and out of her jiggling ass. She looked at Brone with pleading eyes, nodding her assent. Brone scowled at the scene, humiliated that he had witnessed so much.
“You’re a pig,” he snapped at Scotty, storming into his bedroom and slamming the door. He was further ashamed that he had almost joined the party. Scotty’s orgies were commonplace around the apartment, and his roommate had made it clear that Brone was always invited, but Brone had never crossed the line. He knew that Scotty’s sexual addiction was a symptom of his bipolar disorder and Brone would never exploit his friend’s weakness in such a way. That night Brone’s mind was filled with far more important thoughts than sexual escapades. Was it just a coincidence that there were emergency vehicles at Regent Park tonight? There is always drama there. I’m sure it’s nothing like what Scotty is making it sound like. As Brone dropped the headphones over his head, blocking out the feral screams and moans of passion from the next room, he wondered again if Lilah had told him the truth.
For the first time since Brone had started his quest for vengeance, he found himself awake in the morning. To his relief, Scotty had kicked his new friends out the previous night, and Scotty himself was still asleep in his bedroom when Brone emerged from his room at 8 am the following morning. He flopped onto the sofa and flipped on the news.
“…the firefighters are still on the scene, but the blaze is under control. To update you on the double murder in Regent Park last night, homicide investigators are seeking for any information regarding this bizarre and horrific crime which left a little boy orphaned around midnight last night. Thirty-two-year-old Jason Feldman and his common-law wife, Twenty-eight-year-old Andrea Hoya were found brutally attacked in their apartment on Oak Street. The couple’s four-year-old son, Ethan was also attacked but apparently left to survive with minor flesh wounds…”
Brone choked on his cup of coffee. She killed them both and left the boy alive! He tried to focus on what the reporter was saying, honing in his ears.
“…at this time. Witnesses believe Feldman and Hoya had a couple visiting with them last night, but so far no one has come forward claiming to have been with them before this senseless crime. The motive is not yet known, but we will update you as more details come available. Now for sports. Back to you – “
“I told you something bad happened.” Scotty had sauntered out of his room, naked under and an unsecured terrycloth robe. “You should have joined us last night. Lisa has the tightest ass I have ever dipped my wick in. And that is saying a lot!”
“Maybe next time,” Brone said curtly, rising from the sofa. “Do up your robe.”
Scotty ignored him and joined Brone in the living room, a cup of coffee in his hand, exposing his junk against the pleather.
“I guess you already got off with that hot little blonde number who ran out of here, huh? Where did she come from? I actually always kinda thought you were gay, to be honest.”
“I’m not gay, Brone.”
“Hey, I’m not judging. Do whatever the fuck you want. That’s my motto.”
“I am well aware of your mantra, Scotty. And Lilah was not here for sex.”
“Lilah. Mmm…Lilah, I like the way that rolls off the tongue.” Scotty smiled dreamily for a moment, and Brone felt a stab of anger.
“Wipe that disgusting expression off your face,” he snarled. There was something about Scotty’s face which reminded him of Feldman at that moment. Scotty’s eyes widened in amusement.
“Oh, you like this one, hmm? Could she be ‘the one’?” he taunted. “I thought she was a working girl, but now that I think about it, she’s a lot more fresh-faced than the ones who hang out at hooker Harvey’s on Jarvis, isn’t she?”
Brone did not dignify Scotty’s question with a response and instead stormed into his bedroom. He needed to think, away from Scotty’s leering and innuendo. Lilah had fallen into his life somehow, and he had cast her away. She had filled his blood debt, and now he did not know where to locate her. Brone buried his face in his hands. What have I done?
Brone spent the entire day locked in his bedroom. He heard Scotty chirping away in the apartment singing and chatting on his cell. In the early afternoon, he finally left the apartment much to Brone’s relief. Still, Brone did not dress or leave his bed. He was a jumble of incomprehensible emotions. Memories flooded him, memories he wished he could permanently erase from his mind.
“Lilyanna, this is Brone. He will be staying with us.” She stared at him with wide blue eyes and a sweet smile. Brone immediately felt his heart melt. He had always wanted a sister, and when he had imagined her, she looked just like Lilyanna with dark hair and blue eyes, just like his. She was thirteen but acted eight with an endearing childlike quality about her. Carla told him quietly that Lilyanna had been born with fetal alcohol syndrome, delaying her mental development significantly. Learning that had made Brone that much more protective of her, walking her to and from school, dealing with her bullies, tutoring and playing with her wheneve
r he had free time. As the years passed, Brone grew, but Lilyanna did not. She maintained her small, doll-like appearance and vulnerability. Brone made friends, but his foster sister remained in her child-like state of isolation, her only companions her foster family. Carla had pulled her from the much lacking school system to privately educate her at home. Suddenly Brone wasn’t spending as much time with her as he was and Lilyanna was left to her own devices. He found himself constantly promising that he would spend time with her, only to leave her disappointed time and again. Then one-day Lilyanna wasn’t there anymore. She had disappeared from the front yard without a trace, while Carla made dinner. No one had witnessed her wander off. Everyone in the house had been thoroughly questioned, but Brone had been at hockey practice and Spence, Feldman and Ben had gone fishing that afternoon. Lilyanna’s naked, lifeless body found floating in Lake Ontario two days later. Details of what had been done to the child had been left out of the papers, but Brone knew that she had been violated in the worst way imaginable, his sweet, kind sister and it had been his fault. He had been wracked with guilt despite Carla’s constant assurances that he was not to blame. If he had not been so consumed with his friends. If he had just spent a little bit more time with her…the “what ifs” were endless, droning on in his head until a year later when Jason was readying to leave the McKinnon’s house. He was turning eighteen in three days, and while Carla had told him not to rush to find different accommodations, Jason claimed he wanted out. Brone was helping him pack.
“Why don’t you stay until you at least find an apartment and full-time job, Jay?” Brone asked him. Jason had stared at him as if he was an idiot.
The Campus Jock: A College Bad Boy Romance Page 35
