by Neal, Xavier
“I did,” she confesses. “She was...a sweetheart.”
“Didn't get to spend much time around her, but she...she changed my baby brother. Couldn't fucking figure out why. They'd only been together weeks and it was like he was a completely different person. I used to wonder how meeting one person could do that to someone. The foundation you've stood on for your entire life should be sturdier than that...but Dad was right. When you know, you know.”
“He died in prison.” She states in a way that causes my eyebrows to furrow. “Your father. It was...uh...it was in the McCoy file.”
“Right.” I clear my throat. “He died in prison. Mom died giving birth to baby bro. Madden spent most of his life raising us. What about you? You said your dad died of an overdose.”
“He did. My mother worked two jobs to take care of me.”
“And now?”
“When I first disappeared, she exhausted her efforts trying to find me. About six months in, The Devil informed me she took her own life.”
Wanna bet he had her killed?
“Anyway, she worked a job cleaning offices at night and a secretary job during the day. Academic scholarships helped me through most of the school stuff. I had a couple little jobs to try to help, but most of my time was spent studying. I had my dream job all lined up for when I graduated...” The look of solemnness returns, but she tries to push past it before it settles. “What's it like being a triplet?”
Memories from all the trouble we've caused over the years makes me smile as I swallow the last of my bagel. “For the most part, pretty amazing.”
“But?”
“But...” my voice trails off as my eyes meet hers. “But sometimes people don't take the time to care that you aren't the same person. They see you or they've heard about you and assume that you're all just alike. That it doesn't matter where one starts and where one ends. Girls line up to fuck you not because they find you irresistible, but because you're a carbon copy of the one they saw first. Sometimes...sometimes I wish I could be Drew instead of Triple D. Being a unit is...fucking incredible, but sometimes, being an individual is better.”
Her hand squeezes mine and she whispers, “You'll always be Drew to me.”
I smile softly and look down at the plate.
Are you starting to get it now? Why she's special? Why I can't leave this place without her? Could you walk away from the one person who sees you? The you that's hidden in the dark. The you that's not overshadowed by your job or your responsibilities. Could you walk away from the one person who risked their life to let you get a glimpse of the one you're missing? I can't. Fuck it. I won't. I don't give a fuck what you think.
Melody
Every time I'm around Drew I feel like I'm the old me. The person I was before I was hardened by a drug tyrant. Almost like the person I was before I met Jimmy, but better. Even better than that person, whoever she was. Why couldn't we have met under different circumstances? It's been seven days and I feel like we've been together a lifetime. How is that possible? Better yet, how much longer can I go on like this? Is it bad that it scares me more for Drew to find out the secret I'm holding, than it does for The Devil to find out?
“Come on Mel.” Drew chuckles and shoves the end of his sandwich in his mouth. “You mean to tell me you never kicked around a soccer ball as a kid?”
“I'm not really good with balls.”
He gives me a devious smirk.
Oh you shut it too!
“You do know this means we have to kick one, right?”
“We don't have one here.”
Drew stretches out his legs and leans back on his palms, his amazingly tan, sculpted body looking like an ancient temple waiting to be worshipped at.
It can't be humanly possible to look that good all the time.
His legs wiggle back and forth in the grass. “Well, we are adding that to the list of shit we do when we escape this place and get home.”
He says that often. Home. I'm not even sure what home is anymore. I used to think it would be with my mom, wherever she was. With her gone, I guess it seems more like a mythical idea. Kind of like getting out of this place.
“That's becoming a very long list.”
“Sex until we can't come any more is at the top,” he announces.
I toss my crust at him and roll my eyes. “That's all you think about.”
“Have you seen you?” Drew comments back, picking the crust up off his shirt. “You cannot blame me for that being constantly on my brain.”
Watching him consume the last of my lunch, I pull knees to my chest. “I'm probably not even good at it.”
“Why wouldn't you be good at it?” His eyes widen. “Are you-”
“No,” I quickly spew. “Well...not technically.”
His eyebrows lift. “Not technically?”
“I've had one boyfriend and we um...we did it once.”
“Was he a little slower than the average bear? How could he get a taste of you and not attempt to overdose?”
My face starts to glow scarlet as I stutter, “I-I-I-”
“Beautiful.”
On a huff I look down at my bare feet that are enjoying the cool grass. “We did it once and he said it was awful. When I suggested we could practice he...” my voice starts to fade remembering the expression of rejection on his face that was soon followed with disgust.
“Hey,” Drew's voice whispers, his body now leaned closer to mine. When I don't look up, he uses the tip of his finger to turn my face to his. “He sounds like a fucking moron, but his mistake of letting you go, is one I'm grateful for. If it doesn't go well the first time, I have no qualms about practicing until it's perfect.” Sensing a smile he adds, “And then continuing constant practice to keep it perfect.”
I nudge him in the side, the playful motion causing him to laugh in victory.
There will probably never be a moment where that's a real possibility, but the false serenity of it is enough for me. I know The Devil feeds the soul hope. Problem is knowing and continuing to feast on it anyway.
Still laughing, Drew bumps his body into mine again. Now chuckling with him, I push back. The movement causes him to poke me in the ribs, a play fight ensuing. In a fit of giggles, the two of us start to wrestle in the grass. Rolling around, we take turns pinning the other down until the laughter makes it hard for anyone to win.
As we catch our breath, I watch the bird fly free across the sky, feeling my own taste of freedom for the first time. Abruptly I stand and dust off the grass covering my body. “Come on. Let me show you Eden.”
Drew hops up, does the same, and follows me across the yard to the building that is almost the same size as the cottage itself. After I key in the code, I open the door exposing him to the only sanity that is constant in my world.
“Whoa...” he manages to whisper out only two steps in. “This is...remarkable.”
Sheepishly I reply, “It's my sanctuary.”
“I can see why,” he mumbles and continues to stroll away from me, jaw still slightly agape.
“Just don't touch anything,” I warn.
With a smug playful smirk he asks, “Afraid I'll break something?”
“More like, afraid it'll break you.”
Before you're supposed to be broken...You don't touch anything either. I have enough death counts on my conscious.
“Concern for me,” he pretends to be flattered. “My, oh my.”
I roll my eyes and fold my arms across my chest. “More like concern that you deliver at least one more orgasm before you escape.”
“The truth exposed.” Drew chuckles and continues his casual walk passing the area dedicated to flowers. “And it's before we escape.”
Humming, I simply follow behind him, answering questions that are rolling out of his mouth about the different colored plants he spots. The casual tour continues, information rushing out of me faster than I'm sure he can process, which doesn't surprise me. What I find shocking is the fact he continu
es to listen. That he continues to make an effort to care about what matters to me.
Jimmy never did.
By the time we're almost all the way back around, he sighs, “That's...this...fucking, wow. It's insane.”
“A little,” I coo.
“Who knew mother-nature could be such a bitch?”
The joke makes me smile wide. “She's as much a giver as she is a taker.”
“I wouldn't mind a little giving and taking,” his voice drops to a familiar tone.
My pussy dampens in response. When my mouth drops to respond, only a very quiet whimper comes from me.
Pleased, Drew smiles brightly. “Thanks for showing me this, Mel.”
In an airy tone, I reply, “You're welcome.”
He takes a deep breath and steps towards me, the tips of our fingers barely linked together. Preparing for the kiss, I start to shut my eyes, anticipating the overwhelming sensation that's soon to follow.
The sound of the green house door opening startles us apart. Rex's face appears around the corner. For a moment he just stares at the two of us, eyes oscillating back and forth.
Not appreciating the skeptical looks for simply standing so close together, I fold my arms across my chest. “What?”
His hands slide into his pockets. “What are you two doing in here?”
“I came to give him an idea of the portion of herb that would be needed to be stuffed inside the statue.” I lie. “In other words, I'm doing my job. Why aren't you doing yours?”
“I am,” he grunts in return. “There's a delivery for the prisoner.”
“Delivery?” Drew questions.
“That's why I'm here.” Rex snaps. “You honestly think I wanna spend more time around a McCoy than I have to?”
Sensing Drew's defensive nature coming, I brush past him. “Come on. I have a delivery for you to take back to Omar.”
“There's a package for you too...” Rex sighs. “From The Devil.”
A small twinge of terror tears it's way through me.
That's not good. No way is that good.
“I need you to take something back to Omar for me,” I casually repeat, giving the illusion it's business as normal.
Anything less and I'm more fucked than I am now.
The three of us head back into the house where I spot Drew's small box on the table. He immediately goes to open it while I grab a small prepackaged requested chemical mixture from the fridge.
I offer it to Rex who is on my heels. “Straight to Omar. You have forty minutes or it's ruined. And if it's ruined, it's your ass not mine.”
Rex smirks and snatches it from me. “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” As I could've predicted, he smiles. “What do you say to dinner with me tonight? Get you out of this little box and some well-deserved time away from that asshole?”
There's an unmistakable growl from across the kitchen.
You heard it too right?
Just as Rex goes to snap at Drew, I inform him, “No. The answers always no, Rex. It's always been no. It'll always be no.”
“But why?” he whines.
That's definitely one reason.
“1. You're not my type. 2. In this business, it's best not to get attached to anything or anyone.” Hearing the words come out of me, hurts almost as much as knowing the truth behind them. I clear my throat to rid it of the anxiety. “Now, go. Clock is ticking.”
Rex mutters something, but scurries out of the house.
Before Drew can ask me about what I said, I interfere. “What's in your package?”
“It's just Glycerin for fingerprints,” he answers, eyes still on the tiny bottle in his hands. “There's a specific kind that's mixed with an unusual ingredient. Makes it easy to manipulate it the way necessary.”
I hum and prepare to check my own delivery when his voice stops me.
“Is that really how you feel?” His eyes don't move from his hands. “You won't get attached to anyone?”
Unconsciously I answer, “It was true.” The moment his eyes lift I add, “But things change.”
The sight of his smile dismisses me from the kitchen to my bedroom, where the perfectly wrapped box with a bow is sitting on my bed.
Gifts from The Devil are never gifts. They're punishments. As far as real presents are concerned, I haven't received one since before I was trapped here.
Quietly I close my bedroom door before sitting on the edge of my mattress. On a deep exhale, I pull at the ribbon and remove the lid. My hand rushes to cover my mouth as I stare down at Jimmy's stiff finger that has a gaudy gold ring on it.
On the piece of white paper underneath the warning is short.
Choices Eve.
With my jaw trembling, I keep my hand clasped over my mouth to hold the sound inside.
His message is as loud and clear today as it was the first time I ever heard him say it. What am I supposed to do? Tell me...what am I supposed to do?
Drew
After showing me Eden, Melody disappeared into her room where she's stayed most of the afternoon. Not real sure if it was because she knew I had work to do or because of the package The Devil had delivered to her, so I simply let it go.
I have to keep up my end of the deal or there will be no escaping. No rescuing. Sometimes we have to take orders from someone we never fucking thought we would in order just to make it one more day. It's all good. I'm a McCoy. I'll survive. The Devil will get what's coming and lose one more ally on his side when I take her out of here with me.
While I'm thankful she wasn't around as I toyed with fingerprint making, I have missed her. Just her presence in the room seems to remind me that there is a light at the end of the tunnel. A sweet melody of hope to keep my mind from wandering towards the idea that I very well may die at the end of all of this.
With a melancholy expression on her face, Melody slips out of her room and into the kitchen. Freezing my body in place, I simply watch, curious what's bothering her. Desperation for her to confide in me grows.
I can't blame her for not. She's like watching a caterpillar who bloomed into a beautiful butterfly, all in captivity. Trapped with only her own beauty for so long. Seeing the outside world with all it's splendor and evil revolve around her, all in hope of the lid coming off. Well we're taking that lid off. We're freeing that butterfly. Soon...very soon.
She tries to put on a smile. “Hungry?”
Closing up the last of my materials that don't need to sit out to dry, I shrug. “I could eat.” Hopeful I offer, “Want me to cook?”
She shoves a hand on her hip. “You can cook?”
“Define cook,” I tease, which makes her roll her eyes, a hint of a smile appearing. “I mean I can boil water.”
“That's a start,” Melody replies opening the fridge.
“I can then add the noodles to it.” My playfulness continues as I cross over to her. “I can also stir, drain, and add the cheese sauce making a gourmet dish.”
A giggle reluctantly gets away. She shakes her head and looks over her shoulder at me. “Macaroni and cheese. You can make mac and cheese.”
“I am the reason you get the blue box blues. It's just that great when I make it.” My fingers lightly touch her arm. The simple action seems to cause her to jump out of her skin and right into my arms. Concerned by her jitteriness I whisper, “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” she lies.
It's that obvious. Hell you can see it too.
“Please don't lie to me,” I beg in a hushed tone.
Her eyes gloss over. “Please, don't make me talk about it.”
I give her a slow nod of understanding. “Dinner?”
“Dinner.”
Reaching around her, I open the fridge once more to peer inside. “Hm...is that...is that steak? We can have steak?”
“That's more for your last night here.”
I joke, “Like a last meal?” When sadness seeps back into her expression, I divert, “What about mac and cheese?”
“You're serious?
” She wipes away a tear that's somehow made it's way to her eyes. “You want macaroni and cheese out of a box?”
“Don't knock it before you try it.”
Melody sniffles. “I don't think I have any.”
“Do you have noodles?”
