by Vi Carter
“Nothing.” Is gritted out between his teeth.
“That’s what I said.” I push my hands behind my back and jut out my chin. “Nothing,” I repeat, and it sounds steadier now, even as everything in me crashes and batters against my flesh like it’s craving released from its hold.
“That was everything.” He takes a step back. “I know you felt it too.”
Before I can speak, he presses a finger against my lips. “Don’t lie to me.” His words are a warning that I’ve never heard before. “I proved my point.”
He steps away from me, and my lips are buzzing.
“Let’s take you home.” He doesn’t sound happy, and I’m not sure if I should take this change as a blessing as I follow him back to his car. I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to return to the four walls that always feel so tight around me like something is sitting on my chest. The car rocks as Rian drives. He doesn’t speak or look at me, and I want to shout at him and tell him I feel nothing. Most times, I feel nothing, but he always seems to bring my emotions to the forefront. I feel drained and emotionally wrecked as he pulls up to the house. I’m ready to get out when Rian stops me with a soft touch to my arm.
“Your phone.” He holds out the slick device.
“I don’t need it here.” I glance at him, and he continues to hold it out. I take it from him.
“I won’t send you dirty pictures, so don’t panic.” The teasing in his voice has me getting out of the car, and I want to slam the door, but I close it gently and refuse to look back at him as I walk up to the house, through the front door where my mother is waiting.
CHAPTER SIX
WILLOW
Air is thin as I try to control my pounding heart. I don’t have a second before my mother grips my forearms. I’m aware of the door closing behind me.
“I was so worried.”
I’m confused as my mother releases me and gathers herself.
“We heard about the bombing. I rang you.” Rian’s father speaks directly to Rian. He hasn’t the same level of alarm in his eyes that my mother has. In fact, he’s calm.
“We weren’t there.”
My mother covers her mouth with her hand. Red polished nails surprise me. I’m staring at them even as she moves her hand from her mouth and rests it on her abdomen. “I thought you were working there today?”
“It’s a lucky thing I took Willow away. I had to work elsewhere.”
“Alone?” My mother sounds outraged.
My gaze darts to my mother. What would she do if she knew we kissed?
“What happened to your clothes?” My mother pulls the cardigan out of my hand.
“Catherine.” The warning comes from Henry, but my mother ignores her husband.
“Did you touch her?” Her words are barked at Rian, and I die a little inside.
“In what way?” Rian’s answer has my walls crumbling.
“In any way.” My mother grips my arm, and I just want this moment to end.
“No. I didn’t.” Rian’s words are ground out between his teeth. My mother releases me, and I take a peek at him. He’s angry. I’ve never seen his face so sharp with tightness. “You sound like you would prefer that she was in the building when it exploded.”
My mother’s nostrils flare, and she shakes her head in disgust. “She is no longer working there.”
I glance at Henry, wanting him to intervene, but he doesn’t. Rian takes a step closer to my mother, and I’m tempted to protect her, but I don’t move.
“You wanted her to work with us. She knows the location of the black market. She is the first outsider to ever stand in it. She met the men who worked there. She could identify so many.”
I want to scream that I wouldn’t say a thing. I understand how dangerous all this is.
“So, she’s in the door now, and there is no way out,” Rian confirms.
“Rian.” Henry’s voice has all of us looking at him.
“Blitz and Fox are waiting for you.” I thought he might scold Rian for speaking to my mother in such a way, but now that I think of it, I have never heard him speak to Rian like he was his son. They talk to each other like they are equals.
“Henry!” My mother’s word bounces off Henry as he continues to focus on his son.
“They aren’t alone.” He informs Rian.
Rian still doesn’t leave, and I see his hesitation.
“Henry.” My mother’s voice is louder. She wants him to do something. She wants him to say that I won’t ever have to work there again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Willow.” Rian’s departing words are the nail in the coffin.
I focus on the tiles as my mother turns her anger on Henry. It’s toned down slightly, but it’s still there. “How could you let him speak to me like that?” I can hear the upset in her voice, the quiver that she’s fighting to hold back.
“Because he’s right. You wanted her to be a part of this, and Willow is. Honestly, Cathy, I’m just glad she’s in one piece.”
I finally look up at Henry, and his eyes hold his truth.
“Come on, Willow.” My mother walks past Henry, and I follow her upstairs, where I know she will question me about the time I spent with Rian. My stomach twists as I step into my bedroom. My mother closes the door behind her.
“There’s blood on your cardigan.” Her voice is hinged with hysteria. I’ve never seen my mother this out of control, not since she married Henry. She marches into the bathroom, and I hear the water running.
“God damn it, Willow.” I jump at her sharp words. She’s holding the cardigan; the area that she scrubbed has turned a dark shade of gray. “It won’t come out. It’s ruined.”
“I have nine more of the same cardigan.” When my mother bought something she liked on me, she did it in quantities of ten.
“So what, you just abuse your stuff?” She turns on her heel, and I hear the water running again. “Where are you bleeding?” She returns without the cardigan, and she appears calmer. I hold out my hand, so she doesn’t start inspecting me.
“Did Rian do this?”
I frown, not sure why she would think Rian would hurt me. He never has. “He took me to a garden, and I caught my hand on a rose thorn.”
“A garden? Where?” My mother grips my cut hand, and I soak up the pain.
“I wasn’t paying attention,” I answer honestly.
She releases me and exhales loudly.
“I don’t understand. Why are you so upset?” I’m taking a step into the unknown. I never question my mother, but she’s acting strangely. “You wanted me to get a job.”
“Yes. Just, I didn’t think there would be bombs going off.”
“I’m okay, Mother.” I try to reassure her as she sits down on my bed. She pats the spot beside her, and I join her.
“What was it like?”
I’m surprised by her question, but I answer her. “It was a large market with lots of stalls. They were selling guns and knives. I even saw a guy with a bazooka.”
My mother’s face pales as she faces me. “Did he introduce you to anyone?”
“Yes. Margie. She’s the woman I work with.”
“What did she sell?”
“Jam,” I answer and fold my hands in my lap. My mother falls silent, and I look at her to see she has mimicked my movements. I’m curious about the red nail polish that coats her nails. It looks freshly done.
“Did Rian do any business?”
Something uncomfortable worms its way under my skin, and I face my mother, but she doesn’t look at me.
“No. Nothing. Well…” I think of him cutting off the thief’s hand.
“Well…” My mother prompts when I don’t speak.
“A man stole some items, so Rian…. Hmmm… cut off his hand.”
“You witnessed this?” My mother doesn’t sound as horrified as she should. Yet, I know there was nothing normal about us.
“Yes,” I answer, and we fall into silence.
My mother stan
ds after a moment.
“Come on.” When she speaks now, she sounds more like my mother. I stand, and she starts unbuttoning my shirt.
“Do you know when you were five I lost you in the mall?” My mother shoves the blouse down my shoulders and removes it. She’s smiling at the memory. She places the shirt in the wash basket before returning to me.
“I was hysterical. I was so convinced someone had taken you.” My mother moves behind me, removes my hair from the band, and runs her fingers through it. “You nearly broke my heart in two that day, Willow.”
“I’m sorry.” My words are automatic and cause my mother to walk around so she can face me.
“You were five, Willow. You don’t have to apologize. Sit down on the bed.”
I do as my mother instructs, and she removes my shoes. “Anyway, it took three hours before the police arrived, and they shut down the whole mall. Every second I had hope of finding you, slipping away. Stand up.”
I do, and my mother pushes down my trousers until I’m only standing in my underwear. She places her hands on my shoulders and smiles. “This woman, wearing a red bandana of all things, came running towards me.” My mother’s eyes glaze off with unshed tears. “She describes this little white-haired girl in her pet shop.” My mother runs her hands through my hair.
“You were there in the pet store petting a small puppy. You had no idea of the pure panic you had caused.” My mother’s hands run down my arms, her smile leaving completely. “I didn’t go back to that mall for years.”
I’m ready to apologize again when my mother’s fingers run the whole way down to my wrist. She turns my arms over, and we both stare at the destruction there. Her fingers run across the white raised lines. “My baby.” Her voice wobbles, and I want to feel what she feels. But I don’t. She releases my wrists, and my arms hang on either side.
“Take a shower and try to rest.” She places a kiss on my cheek and leaves me alone.
My own fingers find their way to the raised flesh, and I keep touching them like they might make me feel again, but I don’t believe it. I think the day I made these marks, everything in me drained along with all my blood. Removing my bra and underpants, I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower. I remember the burning of my flesh as I ran the blade across it. My stomach tightens, and the ecstasy of feeling. I had no razor blades here. My mother wouldn’t allow it, even after all this time. We went to the beauty salon once a week, and they tended to all my needs. I had tried to use bobby pins. Pulling the rubbery substance off the top and jabbing them into my thighs. The pain was minimal compared to what a blade could do.
I reach out and check the water before stepping into the spray of the shower. The moment the water coats me, I think of Rian. I think of his kiss, and my heart pounds.
I wash quickly, feeling guilty for my impure thoughts. My hand touches my cross. I had no idea what I believed in, but I knew I needed to pray more if judgment day was real, and I had to face God. My heart wouldn’t weigh well against my evil deed.
Wrapping myself in my towel, I hear a noise from my wash basket. It’s a slight buzzing sound. Opening it, I remove my trousers and take out the phone that Rian had given me earlier.
My hands tremble, and I take the phone with me to the bed. Opening it, I see a small white envelope bouncing around the screen. I touch it, and it opens.
“If you need me, just ring me, no matter what the hour.” My heart crashes in my chest.
My fingers hover over the buttons. I have no idea what to write back. Do I thank him? Do I need him? I hate the sense of loss that courses through my system. I have no idea what I’m searching for. I close the phone and place it on the top of my bedside table. I think twice and place it in the top drawer. Closing it, I get changed into bed-clothes and tidy up my room. I scrub at the blood on my cardigan until my fingers turn a bright shade of pink. I can’t get the blood off, no matter how much I scrub.
I return to my bed. It’s not bedtime, but I refuse to go back downstairs. I take the phone out of the drawer, open the phone, re-read, and re-read Rian’s message.
“Thank you.” I quickly send and regret it almost immediately.
I’m staring at the phone and jump when it vibrates in my hand. The little envelope bounces around the screen. I press on it, and I can’t stop the swell that erupts in my chest as I read his message.
“Anything for you, Willow.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
RIAN
“Anything for you, Willow.” I send back and wonder if she understands that I would do anything for her.
Blitz clears his throat, drawing my attention back to the three men who are tied to the chairs in front of me.
Leaving my phone on the small, round table beside Fox, I walk back to the three men.
“I will take a volunteer. I think it’s only fair to allow two of you a chance to reconsider.”
“I swear, Rian. I know nothing.” The man closest to me cries out.
It didn’t take much to discover his name was Peter. I turn to Blitz and grin as I roll up my sleeves. “I knew he would break first.”
“I had my money on the skinny one at the end,” Blitz says.
I turn to the man on the end and walk towards him. His lanky frame bends with the chair. “No, his eyes hold too much anger. He’ll hold out and try to spite us.”
Angry eyes glare up at me, and the man tightens his jaw and juts it out in a gesture of pride.
“But, everyone talks eventually.” I step away from him and let that sink in.
“Please, Rian,” Peter continues to beg. He follows my finger and the tremble in his chin travels all the way to his hands.
“Just tell me any member of the Rat Pack,” I point at the door, “and I will let you walk away.” He knows nothing. His massive shoulders fall forward in defeat. He’s a bad catch, and I should release him.
I step towards him, and his head snaps up to me—fear sparkles in his eyes. My fist smashes into his face; the crunch of bones under my rings is always satisfying.
“You know I’m trained as a boxer.” Everyone knew that information about me, but a reminder never hurt anyone. I don’t allow Peter to answer. He would be an example for the other two. Instead, I smash my fist into the same spot and watch his flesh tear. Blood erupts and feeds my thirst.
“Three hits, Peter, and then you have a chance to speak.” I grip his head and lift it up; he’s ready to protest when I slam my fist into his face again. His cries have fear igniting in the man beside him, the lanky one tugs at his tied arms. The fire in his eyes, I can’t wait to extinguish.
“Give me one name, and you can all go.” It was a simple request—liquid pools down the side of the chair under Peter.
“He pissed himself.” Blitz dances away from the pool of urine. Fox sneers behind me. We all paused as the door opens, and the sound of heavy footfalls sound across the wooden floor. I don’t resume my work but wait until my father appears around the partition.
He stands tall in front of the three men. Lanky shows his first sign of fear, and that kind of pisses me off that he’s more afraid of my father than me. That is something I will have to fix later.
“Good evening, gentleman.”
“Mr. Steele.” Fox places his newspaper on the table and sits up straighter at my father’s arrival. I grin at him, but he refuses to meet my eye. He always gets shifty around my father. Most people do, that is, except for Blitz. He sees my father as his father.
“Henry, these men stole from us.” Blitz folds his large arms across his chest as he glares at the three men in question. My father already knows who they are, but I don’t interrupt Blitz. I pick up Blitz’s cigarettes and lighter from the side table and light one up. I’m an occasional smoker, and right now, I knew my father would try to scare these men with his words. To me, it’s time-consuming, but I’d take a break.
My father folds his arms behind his back. “Ten million this year.” He snaps his fingers, and Peter whimpers. “Gone.
Taken by someone who thought they could take from me and get away with it.” My father stays mostly close to Peter. He can sense the weakness there. I want to tell him that won’t be fruitful for information, but perhaps it might scare the other men into speaking.
“Now, someone has to pay for that. Someone,” My father points at each. “As in one of you, either tell us what we need to know, or your lives are gone.” He clicks his finger again.
The cigarette burns my throat. Picking up my phone, I read Willow’s message again. “Thank you.” I can hear her soft voice in my head.
“Edward Riley.” My father speaks the name to the ceiling, and Lanky perks up. My father registers the movement too.
“How is your daughter?” My father looks at his wrist. “She’d be leaving her band practice now, waiting for you to pick her up. Or I could send someone to get her.”
Edward struggles against his restraint, and I hope we are getting somewhere. I put out the cigarette and move back to Peter, who sinks into the chair. I stand outside his pool of urine. His face is swelling on the left side, his eye almost entirely closed.
“Leave my family alone.” Edward barks, and I have to laugh at his fucking stupidity.
His dark eyes swing to me. “Leave my family alone,” I repeat his words. “Don’t hit Peter,” I say before plowing my fist into the right side of his face. The skin snaps and his roar is delicious. “Do you feel stupid, Edward? Shall I explain that to you again? You say leave my family alone, and you also say don’t hit Peter.”
Peter’s nose breaks under the force of my knuckles. I dance back as blood sprays down his top. “Are you understanding me now?”
“Yes!” Edward’s angry roar has me wanting to hurt him. He doesn’t understand enough for my liking.
“I can make a bomb that will blow his head off his shoulders.” Blitz offers up.
“Not yet.” My father stops in front of Edward. I move away from Peter, he’s a lost cause, and I step in front of man number two. He’s kept his head down and his mouth shut. I kneel down in front of him, and slowly, he meets my gaze.
