Not for a Moment

by Nadirah Foxx

  “If you’re sure,” Rachel said tentatively and then made herself comfortable on the sofa.

  I’d never been more sure. Women like Rachel should be glad for men like me. We saved them from their own evil.

  “You know what you need?” I walked toward the kitchen. “A drink. Something to take the edge off.”

  In a few seconds, I returned with a glass of clear liquid—a little vodka and ketamine. I adjusted the dosage since I only wanted her to relax and possibly forget everything she’d soon learn. “Drink this. It’ll help you relax.”

  Rachel eyed the etched tumbler before her gaze bounced back to me. She smiled tightly. “Later. Let’s talk.”

  Instead of setting the glass onto the table, I held it in front of her nose. “Sorry, love. It’s not an option. If you want to talk, drink.”

  Still trying to avoid the inevitable, she said coyly, “You first, sweetheart.”

  “I’ve had mine.” I shook the glass. The ice cubes jostled. “It’s your turn.”

  “Oh, very well.” She reached for the glass with a trembling hand and then dropped it, the contents spilling onto the floor.

  I glared at her. “Not very bright, Rachel. There’s more. I’ll be back.”

  As I left the room, she ran up behind me. “Wait for me, silly.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve gone through all this… Made these wonderful arrangements, and I’m hanging out alone.” She slipped her hand around my elbow. “Let’s cook together.”

  Shaking my head, I looked down at her and frowned. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing. I told you earlier. This is about me wanting to be with you. Matt’s history.”

  Such a convincing lie. A lesser man would fall for it, thinking Rachel was being genuine. Not me, but I was willing to play along. Instead of refilling the glass, I placed it in the dishwasher. “You know, I can’t seem to remember if we’ve ever cooked together.”

  Rachel giggled. It was an odd sound coming from her. She never made noises like that. “If I recall, we didn’t eat a lot when we first met. So the answer would be no.”

  She glanced at the steaks and seasonings on the kitchen island. “How about I get these seasoned and on the grill? Do you have what we need to make a salad?”

  “I do.”

  “Good. I’ll put you in charge of the salad.”

  I went to the fridge and removed veggies. “Now would be a good time for our talk.”

  “About?” she asked, feigning innocence.

  “Plans. Our future. Shit like that.”

  Rachel nodded. “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing happens until after Matt’s in prison where he belongs.”

  She paused with the salt shaker in mid-air. “Why do think he belongs in prison? He didn’t kill that girl.”

  Strike one. Rachel still believed he was innocent.

  “If you knew him the way I did, you’d think differently.” Watching her work, it reminded me of someone else. Someone I didn’t want to think about. Changing the subject, I asked, “Ever wonder about how we met?”

  Her head jerked back. “Not really. Why?”

  “Didn’t it strike you odd? We didn’t go to the same school. You went to a private one. I barely graduated from a public one. Yet, I knew you.”

  Rachel placed the container on the counter and glanced over her shoulder. “Now that you mention it…”

  “I saw you months before we met. You were at the McDonald’s not too far from your school. I guess Shrine must have won a game. The place was crawling with cheerleaders. You were draped on the arm of some guy.”

  Her mouth opened slowly as reality hit. “Jeff. We often went to McDonald’s for a victory celebration.”

  “I know.” I turned back to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of my favorite nut brown ale. “I just wanted a chance to meet you. Get to know you, but you were wrapped up in the jock.”

  “We’d been together since—”

  “Sophomore year,” I finished for her.

  Rachel gasped.

  “Shocked that I knew?”

  Her head bobbed up and down.

  “I made it my mission to learn all that I could about you, Rachel St. John. I even found out where you lived.” Twisting off the lid, I leaned against the counter. “Can you believe I even had the forethought to meet your parents first?”

  Rachel took her attention off the steaks and whirled around. “You met my parents?”

  “Naw. Just your mother. Funny thing, she took one look at me and then my car and told me to get lost. Rude, right?”

  Rachel remained silent.

  Closing my eyes, I recalled that night.

  “Mrs. St. John? Right?”

  The woman on the other side of the door just stared at me.

  “Think I could come in and wait for Rachel? We’re friends. She’d want to see me.”

  Her mother tightened her grip on the screen door handle like that could prevent me from entering. “You need to leave. My husband—”

  “Won’t be home for a while. He went to the game too. Now let me in,” I said through my teeth.

  “I’m going to call the cops.”

  I’d had enough. I yanked on the flimsy door. She backpedaled, screaming. Wrong move. I reached for her—just to shut her up—but she got louder. I had to shut her damned mouth, so I did what I knew. I pulled out my knife.

  Her eyes grew wide, but her mouth closed. She shook her head repeatedly.

  “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to see Rachel. How about you get me a glass of water? I’ll wait right here for her.”

  The woman nodded and ran from the room. Seconds later, I heard water running in the sink. Then I heard the voice over the phone. Damn! She called the cops.

  “Your mother didn’t leave me a choice,” I explained to Rachel.

  The color drained from her face as she gripped the side of the counter. “Please tell me you didn’t.”

  “Actually, it was a stroke of luck. Killing your mom brought us together. Fate.” Honestly, I hadn’t planned on slaying anyone. It simply was a reaction. Her mother made it easy though.

  Rachel didn’t say a word. For a moment, I thought she might have died on the spot. I crossed the floor and reached for her.

  “Don’t.” She evaded my touch. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”

  “Aw, come on. Your mom will always have a place of honor in my heart. She was my first kill. The easiest—but my first.”

  Hatred flashed over Rachel’s face right before she lurched for the sink, vomiting up whatever she’d eaten. I leaned down beside her. “See. You should’ve had the drink. You might want to reconsider it before Matt arrives. His truth is going to completely shatter you.”

  35

  Memories

  Rachel

  My body wouldn’t stop shaking. Leo should have counted his blessings. If I’d had my gun, I would have wasted his ass. Because of him my dad and I lived through hell. For years, I’d buried the memories of that night. Thanks to Leo, they were back—stronger and more vivid than ever before.

  Dad was reporting for duty on Monday. It was his last weekend at home, so we went to the big football game at Shrine against Bishop Foley.

  After the Knights won, Dad and I stopped for ice cream. Blue lights hit us as soon as he turned onto our block. Dad stopped the car in the middle of the street. As soon as our doors opened, we both ran toward the house.

  “Mom!”

  “Jackie!”

  Officers stopped us at the driveway. “You can’t go—”

  “My wife… Where’s my wife?”

  “I’m sorry…”

  Everything turned into white noise—the officer’s explanation, my crying, and Dad’s screams. At some point, I must have passed out. I woke up with Dad’s arms around me, rocking me back and forth like a little kid.

  He tried to be strong for me. They excused Dad from deployment to bury Mom. All because the asshol
e standing in the kitchen wanted to meet me?

  “Let’s start the steaks.” Leo stated it like we’d been discussing the weather.

  I stared at him for a long moment before I found my voice. “I’ve lost my appetite.”

  “Once you smell—”

  “I said I’m not hungry,” I shouted. Pushing away from the counter, I walked out of the room.

  “Where are you going?” Leo asked innocently.

  “Bathroom,” I responded without looking back.

  Closing the bedroom door, I leaned against it and tried to calm down. Images of my mother lying in a pool of blood filled my mind. When Dad and I entered the house, there was a crimson trail leading from the kitchen. Police said the bastard slit her throat and left her to bleed out. Most likely she dragged herself across the floor. They found her in the hall, the phone in her hand. Had she tried to call for help?

  A shuddering sigh passed through me. I pushed myself forward and picked up my clothes off the bed. Be prepared. My life might depend on that slogan.

  ∞∞∞

  The smell of food seeped through the cracks. Seconds later, Leo knocked on the bedroom door.

  “Rachel, you can’t stay in there all night,” he warned.

  Want to bet? I’d live in there if it kept me away from him.

  I’d been such a fool. In the back of my mind, something nagged at me—something kept saying I knew Leo. But I let a change in his appearance throw me. The boy I knew was clean-shaven with long sun-kissed brown hair and no tattoos.

  Everyone changes, Rachel.

  Tension coated Leo’s words. “Sweetheart, your food will get cold.”

  I stayed quiet.

  He jiggled the knob. Thankfully, I had enough forethought to lock the door. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop Leo. My heart jumped into my throat as he inserted the key. As I sat cowering on the bed, the knob twisted, and the door popped open.

  “Listen, I don’t have time for your games!” He stalked across the floor, grabbed my elbow, and yanked me to my feet.

  I pulled away from Leo, but it did no good. He dragged me from the room. When we reached the living area, he pushed me down onto a chair. I rubbed my arm—certain there’d be a bruise later—and started to speak when I glimpsed the gun. Well, that changed things. I sat back and kept my mouth shut.

  Leo paced the floor behind the sofa. Every now and then he’d stop, look over at me, and then shake his head before resuming his frenetic movement. “This is how it goes. You do whatever the shit I tell you to do, and I won’t hurt you. Understood?”

  I nodded.

  He rushed over to me, grabbed my chin, and forced my head up. “I didn’t fucking hear you! Do you understand?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good.” Leo eased his grip and then leaned in and kissed me roughly. His lips lingered for a moment before he straightened up. “You do know I love you, right?”

  Swallowing hard, I said, “Yes.”

  “Never stopped.” He grinned. “Now, let’s have our dinner. I’m starving.”

  ∞∞∞

  Silence surrounded us as we ate. Somehow Leo devoured his food while keeping his gaze locked on me. I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop looking at the gun resting to the right of his plate. Seeing it confirmed that the man was dangerous. I was a fool to meet him without notifying anyone. My best hope for escape was to get outside. I had no idea how I’d pull it off, but I had to try.

  Setting my fork down, I glanced over at Leo. “Can we go for a walk?”

  “No. Besides it’s dark, and Matt will be here soon.”

  “It won’t take—”

  “I said no!” He pushed away from the table and picked up the gun. “Take care of the dishes.”

  “Sure,” I murmured and did as he told me.

  ∞∞∞

  After I finished the dishes, Leo insisted on talking. It was the last thing I wanted to do. What other horrendous memory would he share?

  Leo tilted his head to one side and rested the pistol on his thigh. He pointed to the sofa. “Sit, Rachel. We have things to discuss.”

  Slowly, I perched on the edge of the cushion—ready to run if I had to. “About what?”

  “Our future. After getting the cop out of the picture, we need to make plans.”

  Leo was seriously delusional if he thought I planned on doing anything with him. Until he told me about my mother, I still felt an inkling of something for him—sympathy, possibly pity. Deep down, I thought Leo was simply misunderstood. After revealing himself as my mother’s killer, I knew he was about as misread as Jack the Ripper.

  When I didn’t speak, Leo continued, “How do you feel about California? I’m partial to SoCal myself. We could get a place on the beach. Manhattan Beach is nice, but I’m partial to Redondo. Maybe—”

  Headlights followed by the crunch of gravel in the driveway interrupted Leo’s fairy tale. He placed a finger to his lips and then gestured with the gun for me to stand and go to the door. Leo walked behind me with the muzzle between my shoulder blades.

  Heavy footsteps rushed up the worn steps. The porch’s floorboards creaked with each footfall. He tried the doorknob.

  “Go ahead,” Leo said, pressing the weapon into my spine.

  I inched forward and removed the lock. Before I could say anything, Leo jumped in, “Open the goddamn door, brother!”

  Brother?

  It swung wide, and Matt barreled through the doorway. “Let her go, Leon!”

  “Not until we straighten out some things.” He grabbed my elbow, tugged me backward, and aimed the gun at Matt. “Let’s start with who you really are.”

  Slowly, he raised his hands. “Plan on shooting me with my gun?”

  My breath hitched. So it was true. Leo was nothing but a petty thief and a heartless killer. How could I have been so wrong?

  “As much as I’d enjoy it, first you need to fill Rachel in. Let her know the real you.”

  Matt shook his head and used his foot to close the door behind him. “Rachel knows who I am.”

  Leo chuckled and gestured toward the sofa. “It’s time to stop lying. You know, we should have made popcorn. This is really an entertaining story.”

  Reluctantly, Matt took a seat. When I moved to sit beside him, Leo yanked me against him. “No. You’re with me.” He pushed me onto a chair and then sat on the arm. “Okay, Matt. Ready when you are.”

  I took a chance and spoke. “You might as well tell me. I don’t think either of us are leaving until you do.”

  “Smart, girl,” Leo chimed in.

  The man I’d given my heart to—or should I say the second man?—cleared his throat. “You were only half right earlier.”

  “About what?”

  As I lifted my eyes, I noticed Matt’s bare ankles. He’d removed the monitor to come for me. It won’t be good for him. But tampering with it should have alerted the police. They’d eventually arrive. I sure hoped so.

  “Leon and I are half-brothers,” Matt mumbled.

  My jaw dropped as my gaze drifted between the two men. Why didn’t I see it before? They both had the same eyes, the same jaw, and even their mouths were shaped similarly. Suddenly, I recalled the photo Scott had shown me. The two boys looked a lot alike.

  How could I be so stupid? I’d slept with brothers.

  Matt continued, “We had the same mom.”

  “A woman who cared enough to keep you,” Leo added.

  Was that what irked Leo? The fact that their mother gave him up? It seemed to me that he was the lucky one. He didn’t have to grow up watching her slowly kill herself with drugs.

  “You know that’s not how it went down,” Matt said. “Mom was a teenager when she had you.”

  Leo shouted, “How the hell would you know? You were a toddler when she died.”

  “True. The social worker—”

  “Didn’t know shit!” Leo jumped to his feet and waved the gun in the air. “If she had, she would have never put me in that foster home.�
�

  “The Pattersons were good people.”

  “Yeah, right! Mr. Patterson was a saint among men,” Leo said.

  Matt’s head bobbed. “He was—”

  “My father!”

  Oh shit! More drama. Matt’s and Leo’s lives could have been used for a movie script.

  Matt’s bulging eyes reflected my thought. “No!”

  Leo laughed. “Shocked? Imagine my fucking surprise when I overheard him talking to his wife.” To me, he said, “Get this, Rachel. The asshole actually went to the social worker and requested that I get placed in his home.”

  “Wait! I’m confused,” I said. “He knew about you the whole time?”

  “Yeah. He knocked up my mother but refused to help her when she gave him the news. Instead, he told her that he was a married man. He was a fucking pervert. That was what he was. My mom was only seventeen.”

  A shudder snaked down my spine. “How did you find out?”

  Leo glanced at Matt for a moment. “Before dear old dad kicked me out of his house, he told me. Can you believe he said he actually loved my mother? He just couldn’t leave his wife for a kid.”

  The brothers argued back and forth, trading insults and accusations for at least twenty minutes. I pictured their mother as a desperate woman—first as a teen vulnerable to a man who showed her affection, and then as an adult to another man who showed her the promise of love. In all honesty, I thought I understood. When Mom was killed, I was fragile and so furious. It was the reason why I fell for Leo so easily.

  “Don’t you get it, you fool?” Matt shouted. “I didn’t have the perfect life you think I had. Mom OD’d when I was five years old. My asshole of a father beat the shit out of her, and she retreated to drugs. Before someone told me years later, I thought she just fell asleep and didn’t wake up.”

  And the argument continued.

  My heart bled for Matt. He didn’t just inherit faulty genes that gave him juvenile diabetes. His tendency toward brutality came from his dad too.

  Finally, the brothers went silent. Matt sat back on the sofa huffing and puffing while Leo returned to his spot on the chair arm. He took a deep breath and said, “Tell Rachel the rest of it.”