Six Guns: Volume One

by Sara V. Zook

  We went to the front door which opened and another man appeared from inside the home. He ushered us in. His eyes scanned over me for a moment before he closed the door. “He’s waiting for you,” the man said to Seton. “Go on in.”

  We walked down a long hallway, the walls of which were draped in art and murals. They looked expensive. Then again, this whole place reeked of money. There was an elevator at the end. Seton pressed a button and raised his arm for me to go in.

  We stood side by side in the elevator. I couldn’t take the awkwardness of silence. “Someone live here?”

  Seton glared my way. “Yeah, someone does.”

  Okay. So much for small talk. I followed him off the elevator and into the largest office I’d ever seen. My nerves were acting up big time. The pale lighting in the room created a silhouette of a suit. A man’s neckline and chin protruded from the top of the suit and I caught a glare from his cufflinks as he released his hands from behind his back. He turned from the window he appeared to have been staring out for hours.

  “Sit,” Seton commanded me, gesturing toward a black leather couch in the corner.

  I watched him walk over to the man. That guy is the one who lives here, I thought. The two of them spoke in quiet voices to one another for a little while which left me alone with my thoughts. I just keep thinking over and over again of the different ways they were scheming to kill me, get the Triplets to dispose of my body. They’d bury me or dump me in a river somewhere, never to be seen or heard from again. I kept playing with my fingers. When in my entire life had I ever been this nervous? At least my stomach had calmed down a little and I wasn’t puking all over this guy’s expensive floor. The two of them eventually stopped talking and turned to look my way. I swallowed—hard.

  They walked over to where I was sitting. I could only imagine the puddle of sweat under my ass that they’d see once I finally stood up. The older guy had a smooth demeanor about him from the way he moved when he walked to the neatness of his clothing and clean-shaven face. He had dark hair with streaks of gray in it. He studied me for a moment.

  “You can go, Seton,” he said.

  Seton nodded his head and left the room, shutting the door behind him. There was not a wave, goodbye or even a high-five from Seton to me. What the hell? I would’ve thought watching him kill someone in cold blood today would’ve established some sort of relationship between the two of us. I almost snickered aloud at the thought. I stood up, glancing behind me to see if I actually did leave a pool of sweat and was relieved to see it actually wasn’t too bad. “And you are?” I asked him.

  The man continued to watch me. He folded his arms behind him and sighed. “They call me Carmine.”

  “Oh.” I instantly recognized the name as the one I had been given originally for the job, but I hadn’t spoken to him directly. It had all been set up through Seton, and all conversation had been minimal at best. “I’m…”

  “I know who you are,” he quickly said. “Let me ask you something.”

  “Okay.” This guy seemed ten times more intimidating than Seton had. This guy wasn’t one to fly off the handle with his temper. His collectiveness made my stomach do flip-flops. He had money and told people like Seton what to do. What the hell was I doing standing next to a guy like this?

  “Tell me exactly what you saw happen tonight,” Carmine instructed me, his eyes never leaving my face.

  I pressed my lips together trying to gather my thoughts. Did I really have to? But he was waiting on my response, so I took a deep breath and tried to suck it up or pretend like I could suck it up. “That Seton guy picked me up and drove me to a building. He told me to stay close. There was supposed to be a transaction between him and this other guy, but the other guy wouldn’t pay, so Seton pulled out a gun and…”

  Carmine put up his hand to stop me. He reached for a box on the shelf behind him and pulled out a cigar. “Want one?” he asked.

  I frowned. “No, I’m good.”

  He lit the cigar and took a few puffs from it before speaking again. “I’m going to ask you the same question again, boy. Listen very carefully.” He pulled the cigar away from his lips and examined it further. “What did you see happen tonight?”

  What the fuck? I just tried to tell him. What did he want me to say? I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown from the turmoil brewing within me. “I don’t…” I started to say. I looked at Carmine, who didn’t seem the least bit bothered by any of what had happened tonight, and it irritated me. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  Carmine grinned. Obviously I was the true entertainment this evening. “Nicky, is it?”

  I nodded.

  Carmine walked behind the couch and came up in front of me again. “Nicky, you didn’t see anything tonight, did you? Seton didn’t have a gun. You didn’t go to some building with him. In fact, you’ve never heard the name Seton before in your life, isn’t that right?”

  Oh. It was all coming together now. What an idiot I was. I could’ve easily just rambled off every detail to him. Of course not seeing anything or anyone was what he had wanted me to say. “Right.”

  Carmine pressed his lips together in a smile. “Good.” He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and stuffed it into my coat. “That’s all I need from you.”

  “What?” I mumbled, still feeling like I was fumbling over my emotions.

  “You can go.”

  I started to head to the door but turned to look at Carmine, to make sure this is what he meant by go.

  Carmine nodded. “Go home, Nicky.”

  CROSS

  I looked down at the birth control pill sitting in the palm of my hand. I let it roll around a few times on my skin. My husband wanted me to get pregnant so bad. He thought we had been trying all these years when really he was the only one trying. No, this one teeny-tiny pill had been my dirty little secret this entire time. It was ironic that something so small as this pill has been the one thing saving me from a much bigger problem, having a baby with Mark. He thought something might be wrong with him, so he went to a doctor and they took a specimen. They said his sperm count was great. Then he wanted me to go to infertility doctors, but he wanted to go with me. I had refused, stating that I was just as frustrated as he was with not being able to conceive, but that I thought it should be natural and happen when it was supposed to. The last thing I needed was Mark finding out what I had really been doing all this time. He would be beyond furious. I almost laughed aloud.

  It was as though I had jumped off the edge of a cliff. The whole world was underneath me, everything Mark had promised me. The only way to obtain my dreams was the hard way, only through taking this gigantic leap. I felt like I was slowly falling a little each day, plummeting to my death. Every day was full of regret. I regretted marrying Mark and losing everything, and I hated him for it. When I thought about what my life could’ve been had my choices been different—I couldn’t breathe. The panic had returned. I squeezed the pill in my fist and leaned against the sink, trying to take slow, deep breaths as the numbness surged up through my chest and into my neck and down to my fingertips. The attacks were less now, but every once in a while they snuck up on me and always left me feeling exhausted afterward.

  I staggered to the toilet and put down the lid to sit. I put my head between my legs and prayed for the horrific feeling to go away. God, this was awful. What happened to me? I used to be so independent and strong. I could walk down the street and hold my head up high. I felt pretty and refreshed when I would leave the house. Now I could barely hide the dark circles under my eyes. I just felt beaten down and lost—so very lost. Mark had somehow sucked the very soul out from under me. Some days when he didn’t come home when he said he would, I would secretly hope he had died in a car wreck, got drunk and lost control of his shitty truck. The weird thing was, I never felt guilty for thinking that way. Something was the matter with me. The panic attack pulsed through me again. I dug my nails into the palm of my hand to try to focus o
n the pain, something to get my mind off of this numbness. I felt so pathetic when I had a panic attack. Didn’t I have control of anything anymore?

  “What’s it gonna take for you to say yes?” he asked the millionth time he came into the coffee store I managed during the summer break. He had been persistent on asking me out every chance he got and each time I would tell him I had plans. He wasn’t my type. He was a laborer. His hands were dirty and callused. He didn’t even go to college, but he had this cockiness about him that lured me in. I liked his confidence. My dad hated him. Maybe that was another thing that lured me in. Dating Mark was my decision, not my dad’s. He had planned out my whole life and this was the one thing that was all mine.

  I thought about Mark’s question for a moment and leaned over the counter in the shop, a smile on my lips. “Hmm…” I put my finger to my lips. He leaned in a little closer to my face. “Tickets to the big concert this weekend.” I said it without thinking he had a chance of getting tickets for that thing. It had been sold out for weeks.

  Mark held up two tickets and flashed them in front of my face. He grinned seeing my expression of shock, his dark eyes sparkling in amusement. “VIP, baby.”

  “VIP?” I couldn’t believe it. How in the world did he get those?

  “So?” he asked, placing his hand on top of mine, the line of customers getting longer behind him, most of them on the verge of irate. “I’m not leaving until you say yes. I can stand here all day.”

  He just seemed so happy then. He wanted me to be with him and was willing to do what it took to get me. I picked up a napkin and scribbled my phone number on it. I handed it over to him. “Call me,” I told him.

  He threw his hands up in the air and shouted out yells of victory. I busted out laughing at his outburst. Mark used to be full of life, but that had merely been the beginning of the lines of false hope he gave me. While getting ready for the concert that night, Mark picked me up only to announce that he lost the tickets.

  “Lost them?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment evident on my face. I would’ve thought he put them in a safe the way he had acted in the coffee shop with them.

  He grabbed my hand and kissed it gently. “Listen, Lilah, I’m really sorry. I misplaced them or something.”

  Had those even been real tickets? I should’ve looked them over. “Maybe I can help you look for them,” I suggested.

  He shook his head. “I looked everywhere. Everywhere,” he emphasized. “But it’s okay, right? Let’s go grab some pizza or something.”

  “Pizza?” I tried to force a smile, but it came out a frown.

  “Come on, let me make it up to you.” His eyes were pleading with me.

  I looked over his straggly, dark hair and down his scruffy face. “Okay,” I whispered.

  That may have been the last day I recognized Lilah Cross. I had allowed him to lead me into a heap of shit that I didn’t know how to get out of anymore. Mark was good at promising things he couldn’t make happen. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Somehow I grew numb to it all. Constant disappointment will do that to you.

  I got up from the toilet and shoved the birth control pill in my mouth. I swallowed it and shut off the bathroom light. I tiptoed into the bedroom and saw the covers piled onto the clump on the bed that was Mark. I pulled back the covers and slipped onto my side of the bed. I was praying he was sound asleep as I laid my head down on the pillow. He did nothing again today. He promised he’d go try to find a job. He had looked me straight in the eye with that lopsided grin of his and promised. He was content with doing nothing, with being a worthless piece of shit. He was mooching off of the money I made at the bank, which wasn’t much. Every penny I made went into this piece of crap house, the house that was supposed to be only temporary, the house that now was filthy and disgusting because Mark occupied every ounce of his time there sitting his lazy ass on the couch and watching TV all day as he ate out of gallon ice cream containers and takeout, leaving the mess there for me to clean up when I got home.

  I yawned and closed my eyes. I was so tired of being this tired. Exhaustion from working so hard was bad enough, but the panic attacks really took their toll on me. Then I felt it—his hand creeping up my thigh underneath the covers, his fingertips gliding across my skin going higher and higher. I cringed and quickly rolled over onto my side so that my back was facing him. I hoped he’d get the hint. He wasn’t touching me tonight. He wasn’t touching me ever again as far as I was concerned.

  Mark let out a heavy sigh, but he let me alone. Thank God.

  I closed my eyes again thinking about everything I gave up to be with him. My dad had warned me that if I married Mark, he’d disown me. I didn’t think he’d actually do it, but sure enough, he had. I hadn’t talked to my dad in over two years. That snobby bitch of a stepmother of mine didn’t help things. She wanted dad’s money all to herself and I’m sure encouraged any ill feelings he had toward me.

  “He’s worthless, Lilah,” my dad told me in our last conversations together. “How can you even be attracted to him?” He gave me a disgusted look like he was going to throw up. “He’s the epitome of a loser. He doesn’t belong with my daughter.”

  “You always exaggerate everything.” I rolled my eyes. “You have to give people chances, dad. Not everyone is born into money. Some people have to work for it.”

  “And some people sit around and wait for it to land in their lap,” he remarked. “Life doesn’t work that way. Someday you’ll understand what I mean. He’s sitting around waiting on my money, and that’s not going to happen. I’m not going to help you out because of him. Don’t think about calling me when you have nothing because he’s sucked it all dry. I have a reputation to uphold, you know that. I can’t be associated with someone like that idiot.”

  He didn’t even attend the wedding. He hadn’t walked me down the aisle. I was so pissed off. The rejection of my dad was overwhelming, even now. I was his only child. How could he do that to me? Now I understood how right he was, but it was too late. I was in too deep. I was so stuck. I wiped my cheek against the pillow as a tear managed to free itself from my eye. I took a deep breath and almost gagged. Mark’s body odor was overwhelming. He must’ve put his arms up over his head or something, exposing his armpits. I shoved my nose into the pillow. I lost my family, my inheritance, myself…to be with this disgusting pig lying next to me who was so lazy, he couldn’t even get off the couch to take a shower.

  CAIN

  I steadied my right hand with my left. I couldn’t get it to stop trembling while putting the key in the locked door of my cousin’s junky car. Seton had just dropped me off without saying a word. Rain drops were running down my face. I was soaked and getting more pissed by the moment that this stupid car wouldn’t unlock. I just wanted to go back home to Lazerne and put as much distance between me and Haven as I possibly could, and quickly.

  I finally was able to slide into the driver’s seat, the leather seats sticking to my wet clothing, the smell of cigarettes filling my nostrils from the interior of the car. I put both hands on the steering wheel and took a deep breath. I looked out of the rainy windshield as the street lights cast an eerie glow upon me. I put the key in the ignition. The car acted like it was going to turn over and then—nothing. I turned the key over again. It did the same thing.

  “Stupid piece of shit!” I yelled out, slamming my fist against the steering wheel.

  I tried it a few more times. Looks like returning to home sweet home wasn’t going to happen for me tonight. I wondered if I should try to find a hotel or just sleep in here. I did have this cash Carmine just gave me. It wouldn’t hurt to spend just a little.

  In looking out across the street, a neon blue sign with half-lit letters read THE PLAYGROUND and underneath it was BAR AND MOTEL. Without any more hesitation, I slammed my cousin’s crap car door shut and sprinted through the rain to the bar. Maybe someone there could recommend a car garage to get it towed to in the morning. Right now I was frustrated
with this entire day and just needed to take my mind off of things, and what better to do that than a couple shots of whiskey?

  Music blared the moment I opened the door. There was a live band playing in the corner, a few girls dancing in front of them but really, not too many people there at all. I headed straight to the bar and took a seat on a ripped, unbalanced stool.

  “What’ll it be?” an old guy with a bald head and wrinkled skin asked me.

  I ran a hand through my wet hair and wiped it on my pants. “I’ll take a draft and a shot of whiskey.”

  “Any particular kind?”

  I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”

  The music continued to boom from behind me as the guy brought me my drinks. I patted the wad of cash tucked in my front jeans pocket to make sure it was still there and downed the shot, letting the burn linger a few seconds before chasing it with the beer. This wasn’t exactly upscale Haven and you could tell by the look of the place and the people here. My thoughts drifted to Carmine, his luxurious house. How did someone become fortunate enough to have all that great stuff?

  A droplet of rain water ran down the side of my face. I stopped it with my fingertip before pressing the glass back up to my lips and chugging half the beer. I didn’t want to think about any of it anymore. It was too exhausting. I just wanted to relax for a little bit. I flagged down the bartender.

  “Another shot?” he asked.

  I nodded. “Might as well get me another one of these, too.” I drank the rest of the beer and handed him the glass.

  He eyed me as if he understood the kind of night I’d had. If only he knew the extent of it.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  I turned my head to find a skinny blonde taking a seat on the stool next to me. She pressed her lips together in a smile as she placed a beaded black purse up on the bar and crossed her legs revealing a very short red skirt.

  “What are you drinking tonight?” I asked her, a crooked grin on my face.