by B. B. Hamel
With every new step away from the river, the anger abated and the fear intensified. Instinctively, I pulled out my phone and called Amy. Before I realized what I was doing, she picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Darce, what’s up?”
“Hey, kiddo, I uh, what are you doing right now?” I tried to keep my voice from shaking. I was back to feeling terrified, and I hoped Amy could make me feel better. I wouldn’t tell her anything about what was going on, but I could at least talk to her.
“Not much. Is something the matter?”
“No, not at all. I was just wondering if I could come hangout for a little while.”
“Of course. I’m at Shane’s. I can send a car for you.”
“No, that’s okay. I’m going to walk.”
“Are you sure nothing’s wrong?” There was genuine concern in her voice and I figured she was seeing right through me.
“Yeah, I’m totally fine. I’ll see you soon.”
“Alright, sounds good.”
I hung up, and then turned east and started walking toward Old City. I knew where Shane lived because I’d been there when I was brand new to the city. I didn’t know what I was doing, or what I would tell Amy, but I knew I needed to stay away from my apartment, at least for a few hours. As I walked, my mind buzzed with confusion, the image of Michael holding my knife replayed over and over.
––––––––
Outside of Shane’s house, I rang the bell. Immediately, the door buzzed, and I let myself in. I looked at the long hall, the clean wooden floors, and the antiques, and felt a strange sense of safety.
“Hey, Darce!” Amy said, poking her head out of a door up ahead.
“Hey,” I said, and walked toward her. I passed a bunch of old looking paintings, but I didn’t feel much like looking at art. Shane’s place was beautiful, clean and well decorated, the sort of place you imagined a billionaire would own. I turned the corner into the kitchen and Amy wrapped me in a big hug.
“What’s this for?” I said.
“You seem like you could use it.”
I melted into her hug, and felt the fear and anxiety release, at least for a moment. We broke apart and sat at the kitchen island. Amy poured us both a glass of wine.
“So what’s up?” she asked.
“Not much. Just didn’t feel like being stuck in my apartment.”
She nodded. “Yeah, I hear that.”
“Must be tough spending your time in luxury.”
She laughed. “You’d be surprised. Half this stuff is antique, and the other half is worth more than I make in a year. I pretty much don’t touch anything, ever.”
I looked around at the clean, modern kitchen, and realized it was about as big as my apartment, if not bigger. I felt jealous suddenly of Amy’s life. There were no complications, aside from Shane’s crazy privacy issues, and everything she needed was taken care of. The place was cleaned and they even had a private chef. It was the opposite of my life, living in a tiny studio apartment, and trying to run away from drug gang thugs. The only positive thing I had was Rex, but he was missing.
“Where’s the man of the house?”
“Working. Some special product launch is coming up.”
“Does he work a lot?”
She shrugged. “Yeah, he does. But it’s not bad since we’re usually together. I actually like it sometimes, having this place to myself.”
“Trouble in paradise?” I was trying to keep her talking. I needed a distraction, even if it was mindless small talk. Amy had a way of calming me down, but at that moment I felt like nothing could calm me.
“Not at all. Things are pretty great, actually. It’s just that, he has such a huge library, and when he’s home I don’t get much time to myself to read.”
I laughed. “Must be horrible having such an attractive, rich man constantly needing your body.”
“It has its perks.” She grinned.
I looked around the kitchen again, and had the sudden, irrational desire to stay. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I wanted a husband and kids and a big house, strong safe arms, and nothing more.
“Are you sure everything is okay?” Amy asked, and I realized I had been staring off into the half distance, imagining my life in a house like Shane’s. I looked back at Amy.
“Things are weird, with Rex.”
“I figured it was that. What happened?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t tell her, but I wanted to. “It’s not something you need to worry about. It’s just ... things are complicated.”
“I understand complicated.”
“Really, I can’t say. Rex didn’t do anything, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I took a drink of my wine to avoid looking her in the eye. I felt guilty hiding something from her.
“That’s fine, Darce. But if you’re in trouble, please tell me. Shane and I can help, whatever it is.”
I knew that no matter what happened, Amy would help me. And Shane would as well; he’d do anything for her. I felt the bulk of the anxiety in my chest slip away.
“Thanks, I know. How about you tell me about the wedding planning?”
Amy grinned. “Are you ready for the full saga?”
“Spare no deets,” I said.
As Amy launched into wedding planners, cake toppers, and flower arrangements, I took another look around the kitchen. What looked like a comforting place moments before when my anxiety was most powerful suddenly looked huge and cavernous. It was an empty space, and although it made Amy happy, I knew it held nothing for me. It was maybe what she wanted, what most girls wanted, but it wasn’t something that would fulfill me.
That was what I had been searching for since moving to the city, the thing that would fulfill me. And although Rex’s life was violent and dangerous, he was the first person I thought might be right for me. If we could move beyond the threatening mobsters and the illegal fighting, I thought we had a chance at making something real together.
We talked for a few more hours and finished the bottle of wine together. The more she spoke, the surer I was that I wanted to get back to my apartment and to keep waiting for Rex. It wasn’t that her life was boring or sad; on the contrary, ever since she met Shane, everything she did was comfortable and amazing. But it wasn’t what I wanted. Eventually, after checking her phone, Amy said that Shane was on his way home, and I took that as my cue to head out.
“Are you sure you don’t want a car?” she asked.
“Alright, alright. Fine. Just this once, though.”
She laughed. “This is going to spoil you, trust me. You’ll never want to walk again.”
“Thanks, kiddo. This was a huge help.”
She nodded, but look concerned. “I’m here for you whenever you need it.”
I hugged her. “Thanks. I’m fine now, though. I’ll see you at work.”
She nodded, and then went to call the car. When it pulled up out front, I climbed in the back, while Amy waved form the doorway. The car took off, out into Philly traffic, and I felt a little guilty for riding in such a fancy thing while most people walked. Still, it was much faster, and the city sped by outside the window. I had a brief moment of excitement looking at the people and the buildings, and I wanted to experience everything I could. I was still afraid, but I felt rejuvenated, awash in a resolved glow. I was home sooner than I realized, and I climbed out of the car. Standing outside my building, in my own neighborhood, I felt happy and resolved. I took a deep breath, climbed my stairs, and walked into my apartment.
Nothing looked different. The strange stain of Michael and his goons had lifted from my mind. I still felt anxious and afraid, but I wasn’t letting it paralyze me. Seeing Amy, looking at the way she lived, was exactly what I needed. It made me sure of what I wanted, in living the way I wanted, even if that meant that I put myself in danger. I couldn’t be complacent anymore and drift through my days, working for the time I wasn’t working anymore. I was taking control, and letting myself get swept
up into Rex’s world.
I changed into clean clothes then laid out on the couch to watch TV and rest. I needed some mindless entertainment for a few hours to recharge from the incredibly tough day. One show blended into the next, and I felt my eyes grow heavy, exhausted from the wine and the stress.
Loud pounding at my door startled me awake. Fear jolted through my stomach and I felt temporarily paralyzed with terror as I struggled into consciousness. The television box said it was three in the morning, and I had no clue who would be knocking at that time. I assumed it was Michael and his goons, back to intimidate me some more. But that didn’t make sense, because nothing had changed in the single day since they were last in my apartment. Scared but still careful, I snuck across the room on my toes and peered through the peephole at whoever was outside.
INTERLUDE
The street felt darker than normal as I made my way toward Drake’s. It was a stupid idea, a stupid fucking idea, but I had no other choice. I needed to show up and win the fight, otherwise I’d be forfeit and all my work would be gone.
As far as I knew, they still thought I called those Russians. Word on the street still was that Michael wanted to kill my ass for fucking up the deal. My heart was pounding, but I was doing it for more than myself. I got Darcy involved in my fucked up world, and I needed to get her out. I could disappear, run away, skip town. It’d be pretty easy, too. I knew some people in New York. I even had some cash stuffed away for something like that. But I couldn’t make myself run, not with Darcy anywhere near danger. I couldn’t skip out on her. I would stand the fuck up and protect the people I loved no matter what happened.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. She was easy, funny, light-hearted, and sexy in a way I hadn’t seen before. Her long blonde hair in the moonlight as she slowly sucked my cock kept playing over and over in my head. If I was honest with myself, though, it wasn’t just her body. It was the way she seemed to understand me. We came from such different backgrounds, and she was a spoiled ex-rich kid, but she understood loss and pain. Not like I did, but she wasn’t afraid of it either. She seemed more alive than anyone I had ever met. I wanted to get lost in her eyes and her touch. Everything about her made my body feel like it was on fire, and I had never met a girl that made me so insane before. I needed to get away from Michael if I was going to try to have anything with her, and that was my main motivation.
The sound of my sneakers on the concrete echoed in the oddly empty streets. I had been hiding out in a damp basement for the past week and my lungs felt like cannon balls in my chest. My ribs still weren’t fully healed from the last fight, but time was up. I tried not to think much about what was going to happen, about the pain and the violence, because fuck it. I’d either win or he’d win. For me though, it’s no real choice. I either beat that man down or I’d die. Those other guys were fighting for money. I was fighting for my life.
I thought back on all those nights I borrowed from Michael, the constant stream of girls and drugs. Part of me thought it was free shit, but I should have known better. Nothing was free with him, and everything had its price. Eventually, it all caught up with me, just as I was trying to get out. I knew that wasn’t a coincidence, but there was nothing I could do about it.
There were the other jobs I was running for him, too. Like the job that went south. They were meant to go toward my debt, but that last one felt different. It was fucked from the start, the location changed last minute, the goods were nearly worthless. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was royally screwed. And when they started shooting, I had no choice but to shoot back. I barely got out with my life. Of course Michael has the balls to pin it all on me, like I was the one who decided I wanted to kill a bunch of strangers over some shitty boosted cars.
That’s when I knew how serious Michael was about not letting me go. He couldn’t come out and kill me, otherwise he’d lose face with the other bosses. Instead, he probably tried to set me up, and made up some shit about me being in debt. But all I needed to do was win the fight and the next after that, and he couldn’t touch me ever again.
As I passed by the thin city trees, I thought about Darcy some more. That time on the rock on Fisherman’s Wharf was the best night of my life. I told her shit I hadn’t shared with anyone else in years. Dark shit, the cold corners of my past. And she didn’t run away, didn’t call me a freak. She wasn’t afraid of me like so many other people were. It was something about how she looked at me, her big eyes deep and penetrating, unblinking, and fierce. I needed someone like her, steadfast and loyal. Plus, she was absolutely gorgeous, and our bodies clicked together like clockwork. She made me want to keep fighting because of the way she kept moving forward herself. Alone in a city she knew nothing about, she kept trying to improve, trying to find something bigger than herself. I envied her freedom and beauty, and wanted to be as close to her as possible. I wasn’t the type to get like that about some random chick, but Darcy was different. I had been with plenty of girls before her, sluts and nice girls and more, but she was the first I was willing to risk myself for.
I shook my head, trying not to get too lost in remembering her body. It felt like forever since I last saw her, which was crazy. We barely knew each other. Still, there was something undeniable about our attraction.
Ahead, Drake’s looked closed. It was about midnight, and the fight should start as soon as I got there. The front door was unlocked, and I pushed my way inside. I gave Chuck the bartender a nod, which he returned, but I could tell he was surprised to see me. The main room was empty, which meant everyone was probably downstairs. I made my way across the room and toward the bathrooms. I pushed an “Employees Only” door open, and went down the steps.
The warm air and noise hit me hard as I descended. People were shouting and I could tell something was getting out of hand. The warmth was tinged with body sweat and blood from earlier matches. I got to the bottom of the stairs and turned the corner.
The crowd was thick with tweakers, weirdos, and drunks. It was the bulk of the Irish gang, all the right people of Philadelphia. They were thieves and con men and muscle and boosters and drug dealers and gangsters. They were violent and unpredictable, but also loyal and honorable in their own way. The right people followed their code and took it seriously. Honesty was valued in a leader above all else, because honesty was in short supply everywhere else. The crowd was shouting at someone in the middle, and nobody had noticed me yet.
When I was left on my own, the right people became my family. The street was my home and they were my cousins and brothers and parents and uncles and aunts. Those people would be my saviors or they would string me up and gut me without a second thought. I took a deep breath and cracked my neck, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen. It was pretty much a fifty-fifty guess at that point whether I’d survive the night or not.
I pressed ahead, and moved my way through the crowd toward the center. As I passed, people began to murmur my name, and soon the room was dead quiet. I pushed through and saw Michael was standing with another guy, some muscled, broken-nose looking monster of a dude. Obviously a fighter, from how he held himself. Michael locked eyes with me and gaped for half a breath. I savored the surprised look on his face; he was clearly shocked that I had the balls to confront him. Michael was always underestimating me, but he would think twice from then on.
“Look who it is, lads!” he called, and the crowd cheered. His two goons, Clutch and Spud, stepped up behind him. They were like quiet psycho twins, and the only thing they loved to do was fuck, fight, and snort coke. Clutch and Spud were everything I despised about the Irish gang, or at least what the gang had become. Under Michael’s leadership, they had gone from protectors of the little people, proponents of local businesses and local champions, to drug dealers and killers. I had no problem with drugs and killing for the right reasons, but the only reason Michael had was money.
“I’m here to fight, Michael,” I said loudly. The crowd cheered again, and Mi
chael put his hands up patiently.
“I know you are lad, but there’s the matter of that last job,” he said calmly.
“Let him fight!” some random guy yelled out. Michael gave him a look, and the crowd quieted.
“What do you say for yourself, eh? Why have you been hiding?”
I steeled myself for what was coming next. That moment would decide my fate and, more importantly, Darcy’s fate. I told her they wouldn’t hurt her, and it was true. But it was true only so long as I wasn’t a traitor and still alive to protect her. I was afraid that if I weren’t successful, they’d hurt her before they finished me off. That wasn’t something I was prepared for. Darcy was only involved because she decided she wanted to spend some time with me, for whatever reason. I alternated cursing myself for dragging her into my world and thanking whatever god was watching over me for bringing her around. If I had a chance to go back to that first night where I beat down those two assholes, I’d do it all over again.
“I’ve been hiding because you set me up with that bullshit deal, Michael.”
There was dead silence around me. I looked back at the stunned faces defiantly. It wasn’t a small thing to call Michael a liar, but there it was.
“Are you accusing me of something?” he said quietly. His goons stepped up, ready to attack at his word.
“I’m accusing you of wanting to keep me around,” I said, speaking loudly. “Everyone in this room knows you’ve wanted me as your personal muscle from day one, and when I turned you down, things went to shit for me. I think you’re trying to fuck everything up as revenge.”
“You should watch yourself, son.” Michael looked pissed. I wanted him to be. I needed him to be off his game. I needed him shaken and confused, otherwise he’d order me killed and be done with it. It might be enough to keep me alive if I could expose a tiny chink in his armor.
