The Dead Don't Lie

by Anne Russo

  Because of his burgeoning closeness with Mei, he grew friendlier with Regan and Vince as a result. Regan sometimes accompanied him on his runs. Gentle and intuitive, she followed his moods. Bright and cheerful when he needed to talk, quiet and focused when in one of his darker moods.

  Vince, too, he warmed to right away. It was impossible not to like Vince; he had a dry and dark sense of humor Adam enjoyed. Animated and amiable, Vince was always ready for a good time and a laugh. And Adam appreciated them trying to reach out to him, including him in their outings. More often than not, he declined the invitation and spent most evenings in his room, reading. Often too worn out for even that and instead lying across his bed, staring at the ceiling.

  His mind was a ceaseless whirl of crushing memories, memories interwoven with crippling dread. A fortress of nervous energy permeated the air around him. Wondering what came later, or imagining who he’d be this time next year or the one after. Worse, the knowledge he might not live that long. He didn’t kid himself into fantasizing he’d have a long, happy life. The best case scenario was a quick death from a stray and merciless bullet. One he hoped never to see coming. A bullet waiting for him somewhere in the unknown future.

  In the meantime, he did as Katherine asked. Her requests were scant more than reconnaissance or information gathering. Requests, he was sure many guards and informants on her payroll, could handle. It was apparent she wanted him to feel useful without pushing him beyond his comfort zone. But Adam was well-aware she’d only allow him to wallow in self-pity for so long.

  Today was Saturday, and Saturdays meant joining Kathrine for tea. Another drawn out afternoon of eating finger sandwiches and making small talk. Afternoons spent with someone he didn’t trust, not to put a literal knife in his back the second it turned. Much like someone else, he avoided.

  Ian made it easier by staying out of his way. Ian, a vivid reminder of what they had done to him, of the devastating truth he’d never be able to outrun. It burrowed under his skin, stark and brutal in its clarity. He had killed a man.

  They had turned him into a killer.

  Adam switched on the light, swinging his legs off the bed’s side, peering at the carpet through puffy, heavy eyes, toeing the plush white. His sleep addled thoughts tangled in the memory of the chilly floorboards of his apartment in Brooklyn. The memory a sharp reminder of both Allison and his mother. Of the few people out in the world, he had considered his friends and wondered if they mourned him as he did them. Sighing, Adam pushed off the mattress, feet sinking ankle deep as he padded off to the bathroom to begin a new day in hell.

  * * * *

  On time for three P.M. sharp, Adam was ready and standing outside Katherine’s inner sanctum at the appointed hour. Oliver, Katherine’s primary bodyguard, made him wait until Kathrine summoned him. He double checked his reflection in one of the mirrors, hoping to pass even her harsh scrutiny. Though, he’d grown accustomed to her requesting him at the most impromptu times, those meetings were all business, perfunctory, and to the point.

  Saturday tea, though, was a tedious affair. One where she did her best to portray herself as a doting, caring parent while using the occasion to study him for signs of mutiny, or so he assumed. The pretense sickened him, hating her expensive perfumes, her immovable face.

  Adam wondered how no one else recognized the ruthless cunning in her eyes. How even Ian, who had known her longer than anyone, held her in the highest regard. No matter what she asked, Ian did, and without question. Adam tried to follow his lead.

  Taking a deep breath, Adam started on the long march from the endless corridor to Katherine’s wing. Once through those doors, he found a half-dozen guards milling back and forth. As if it were perfectly normal to have a platoon of armed men hanging around someone’s foyer. A nervous maid led him through another shorter hallway to the formal sitting room. He stepped inside with a shudder; the maid scurrying away as she closed the door behind him.

  “Good afternoon, darling.”

  Adam took this as a welcome to approach as Katherine lifted her hands out for him. He fought to mask his displeasure as he leaned in to buss her cheek.

  “Afternoon, Katherine.”

  “Please sit.”

  Adam made himself comfortable in the chair next to her own. She smiled as she poured him a cup of tea from the fragrant, steaming pot set up beside her. Adam sniffed the air and recognized the soothing aroma of chamomile. He sat back and busied himself with stirring his drink, then setting it aside when he noted his hands weren’t as steady as hers.

  “You’ve bags under your eyes. Have you been sleeping?”

  “Well enough,” Adam returned and straightened up under her criticism.

  “I understand this has been hard on you.”

  Adam struggled not to laugh out loud at the sentiment.

  She carried on, “Your efforts haven’t gone unnoticed or unappreciated.”

  “Thank you,” he answered between his teeth.

  “You’re angry.”

  “Of course I’m angry,” Adam hissed, unable to hold back. “You’re acting as if I want to be here.”

  Katherine frowned. “You need time.”

  Adam scoffed at the notion. “Time? Time to forget the career I worked for my entire life? The family I lost?”

  “Must we carry on with the dramatics?” she returned, sipping her tea without a care in the world.

  Mother or no mother, Adam was never going to understand this woman. In fairness, he didn’t wish to, spying the ever present darkness lurking beneath the surface.

  “Now, if you’re done,” Katherine proceeded, “I hope one day you’ll learn to accept your place here, even allow yourself to thrive.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Adam answered, failing to hide his distaste.

  “You can begin with your attitude first,” Katherine snapped, eyes flashing with indignation, a spark of hatred, quick and gone. The lines of her face softened once more into its usual mask of stoic indifference. Taken aback by the rapid changes in her temperament, Adam was at a loss for words. “I and everyone else have only acted with your best interests at heart. Keep in mind things could be worse.”

  Adam fought not to wipe his sweaty palms off on his pants legs.

  “How are you managing with the others?”

  “Everyone has been helpful,” he managed.

  “And Ian?”

  Adam floundered at Katherine’s directness. The unflinching glint in her eyes piercing through his every discomfort, amplifying the sensation until he had no choice but to glance away. Adam busied himself with his tea, hoping to buy time before answering. But Katherine allowed no such luxury.

  “I asked you a question.”

  “Ian’s been fine,” Adam offered and hoped the answer sufficed, but it only had the opposite effect.

  “You sound disappointed. Don’t be, dear. Ian’s a man of few social graces. One of his many unfortunate character flaws.”

  “Ian’s not the problem,” Adam insisted, but the lie tasted bitter. He swallowed around it, clearing his throat.

  “Again with this? A lovely afternoon and you’re determined to sulk.”

  “I’m not sulking,” Adam argued, placing the saucer and cup on the table far more forceful than intended. The clatter of china breaking the stare between them. Adam, the first to break eye contact, scurrying for a napkin. “I’m sorry—”

  Katherine stopped him. “Leave it. It’s what we have help for, is it not?”

  Adam sighed, tossing the napkin in hand, the urge to flee overwhelming. “I’m—I’m not myself today. Will you excuse me?”

  Bitter revulsion swept over her features before she smiled, a calculating curl of lip over teeth. She nodded while Adam stood and willed himself over to her chair, leaning over to make his goodbyes. The dust from her powder rubbing off on his collar, leaving behind traces of lavender and roses.

  “Thank you for tea,” he remembered, dashing from the room and away from prying eyes.


  Finally able to catch his breath once the doors had shut between them.

  As Adam left Katherine’s wing, his thoughts were dark and heavy. Distracted, he was halfway through the hall when he spotted Ian approaching. He struggled to keep his interest as noncommittal as possible as he and Ian locked gazes. As their eyes met, Adam fought to shake away the unsettling sensation of having his mind read with only a glance. No matter how much of himself he sought to hide from Ian, the other man saw right through him, regardless.

  “Adam,” Ian greeted, sounding cautious and unsure.

  “Warden,” Adam offered in return, rolling his eyes before attempting to move past. But Ian refused to allow him, reaching for his arm to stop him as he skirted away.

  “Don’t touch me,” Adam growled as he spun around to confront him. His shoulders squared for a fight.

  Ian backed off, giving him space. “You’re a hard man to pin down these days.”

  “Is that what you’ve wanted to do, Ian? Pin me down?”

  “You look tired,” Ian mentioned, changing the topic. “Have you been sleeping?”

  “What’s with this concern over my sleeping habits?” Adam huffed.

  “Pardon?”

  Adam detected genuine concern but ignored it, needing his words to hurt. “Never mind. No, I’m not sleeping,” Adam replied. “Unlike the rest of you, I’m still adjusting to life where murder is a form of conflict resolution.”

  Ian didn’t reply, only frowned, looking lost, and forlorn. Adam was far from the only one having trouble sleeping. Ian’s eyes were bloodshot, the wrinkles around his mouth deeper and sharper.

  “Is that everything? Can I go?” Ian didn’t answer, so Adam elbowed him out the way, temper rising.

  Without a word, Ian moved aside so Adam could pass. But Adam could feel the heat of his gaze, boring into his back with each step he took.

  * * * *

  After another unpleasant reminder of Ian’s existence, Adam had planned to spend the evening alone, ruminating in self-pity. But his roommates had other ideas. Mei and Regan had come knocking, beckoning him out hiding with the allure of expensive tequila. It’d taken lots of coaxing, and a few death threats before finally he agreed to what they promised was to be a wild poker game. One he’d never forgive himself for if he missed.

  “Oh, you’ve decided to join us,” Vince exclaimed. He was in the middle of setting up shots of the promised tequila when they entered the common area.

  “Yes, well, I’m sure you know how persuasive these two can be,” Adam answered, accepting Vince’s drink.

  “You don’t know the half,” Vince chuckled.

  “Watch yourself,” Mei added before sitting at the table’s head, reaching for a pack of cards. “Are we playing poker or what?”

  “Whatever for?” Vince shrugged. “It’ll only be another bloodbath. One that ends with our darling Mei standing over our lifeless bodies counting her coins.”

  “Mei here is a card shark,” Regan explained, sounding proud as she pulled up a chair.

  “Hustled old men right out of their retirements,” Vince supplied.

  “Is that true?” Adam had learned so little of them he appreciated being privy to bits and pieces from their pasts.

  Mei shuffled and dealt out cards, graceful fingers flying. “A girl has to eat,” she answered. “And besides, I won any game I played fair and square. You don’t have to cheat when you’re better than your opponents.”

  “And us,” Regan added, beaming in Mei’s direction. “We have fun, though.”

  “Maybe for you, love,” Vince snorted. “But I always get stuck doing something filthy and disgusting.”

  “Lies,” Regan bantered, “As if you don’t lose on purpose, so you’ll wind up tied to the headboard.”

  Adam glanced between them, dumbfounded by their ease with each other, the casual, perfect way in which Vince and Regan fell into place at Mei’s side. Together, the trio shared a light-hearted, genuine playfulness. They teased and flirted no animosity or jealousy; they made eyes at one another completely and together, whole.

  “Now, now,” Mei chided as she dealt while Vince fetched beers to go with another round of shots. “I’ll make sure you all enjoy losing. That goes for you too.” She favored Adam with a sly grin.

  “I don’t think the bed is large enough, dear,” Regan offered as she flashed Adam a warm smile over the spread of playing cards in hand.

  “We can always make room.”

  “Hey!” Vince interjected, returning to the table. “Don’t I get a say?” He turned to Adam. “No offense, man, you’re a handsome bloke and everything, but you’re not exactly my cup of tea.”

  “Honestly, I assumed you were Mei’s exception anyway,” Adam paused, realizing what he’d said, apologizing. “I mean, I only—er—never mind. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” Mei reassured him. “You’re not far off. I do prefer women and Vince.”

  “I’m flattered, babe,” Vince chimed, sitting back with a cheerful grin.

  “Mei, come on, what about you know?”

  “Regan!”

  “Come on, tell him the story of your dalliance with a certain dark and handsome roommate of ours.”

  Vince sputtered and choked on his beer. “No way! How have you never told me this?”

  “Truly?” Adam questioned, surprised.

  Mei and Regan were in near hysterics, tears pouring, snorting with laughter.

  “Oh my God,” Vince exclaimed, shaking his head. “Seriously? How did that even work?”

  Mei struggled to compose herself, wiping her eyes through giggles. “No, not exactly,” she clarified as she turned to Regan. “God, you’re such a tattle!”

  “You can’t leave it at that!” Vince remained adamant. “I have to know, like for science.”

  “Fine,” Mei relented, “I’ll tell you guys the story, but only because Regan here is a total brat and spilled the beans.”

  Regan chuckled in response as Mei continued.

  “First, this happened ages ago. Long before any of you. Anyway, Ian and I were on an assignment, which was one epic disaster after another. By the end, we were in desperate need of a drink or ten. So we find a bar and proceed to drink ourselves into a stupor. By the wee hours of the morning, we’re both piss drunk and horny. And well, he’s a handsome, stupid bastard. I was curious, so I kissed him, and he kissed me. From there, we somehow wound up in bed together…” She paused to finish her beer. The rest of them groaning over the interruption.

  “Seriously?” Vince blurted out as Mei took her time, draining half the bottle.

  “Nothing happened,” Mei finished as she set the empty bottle on the table. “We didn’t even get undressed. Hand to bible. Swear on a stack of girl scouts. Anyway, the moment came to you know, sonofabitch refused to let me top. So we rolled over and fell asleep for like thirteen hours and never spoke of it again.”

  “Oh come now, Mei, I’m pretty sure it was more R rated than that.”

  Speak of the devil.

  Ian now leaned against the pillars separating the hallway from the rest of the apartment. Adam tried not to pay attention to the way his black leather coat clung to his broad shoulders. Or the extra days’ worth of stubble he wore. The combination only made him appear even more brooding and devastating. Adam averted his eyes and finished his beer without pausing for air.

  “What hole did you climb out of?” Vince asked. “You look like shit.”

  “Oh, that’s just Ian’s little walk of shame number.” Everyone at the table giggled over Mei’s comment except Adam, who winced at the implication. He worked to distract himself from the thought of what or who Ian had been doing. Head down, he started collecting the various empties from the night’s activities. Ian glared in response, peeling himself from his spot and taking his time strolling over to join the group. He swiped Vince’s beer from his hands as he passed him. Vince shrugged and opened another as Ian emptied his in two hard swallows.

&nbs
p; Adam was aware of Ian’s heated focus, but he refused to acknowledge him.

  “Let me help you,” Ian offered as he stepped away and followed him into the kitchen.

  Adam spun around, dumping the glass into the sink. Steady light chatter from the others drifted in from the adjacent living room.

  “I don’t need your help,” he hissed, trying to step past him, but Ian held out his arm, stopping him.

  “We should talk,” Ian ventured, sounding hesitant.

  “You want to talk?” Adam challenged as he glared up at him. “Huh? What do we need to discuss, Ian? Maybe we should talk about why you keep looking at me like you’re trying to decide if you want to kill me or fuck me. Or is it both?”

  Ian’s eyes narrowed, but Adam shoved past him, his face burning, realizing too late he’d spoken for himself and Ian. The worst part was they both knew it the minute those heated words spilled passed his lips. No matter how hard they wanted to deny it, pretend it didn’t exist, it remained impossible to ignore. Adam stomped back into the living room with Ian trailing behind him.

  Adam hurled himself into his seat, reaching for the tequila bottle, pouring himself a massive shot. Ian glowered out of his periphery as he slugged it down.

  “I read somewhere sex is a splendid way for couples to learn, uh, communication, and uh, compromise,” Vince offered as tensions in the room rose.

  “Hush,” Regan admonished. “You’re a troublemaker.”

  “Yeah,” Mei added. “It’s rude to point out obvious things to oblivious people.”

  Ian responded by flinging the chair in front of him into the table, upsetting their glasses. The group erupted in protest over the outburst. “I’m going to bed,” Ian muttered, stalking off toward the bedrooms.