by Marni Mann
“I can’t be sure, but what she took out of the envelope looked like a passport. It was navy; I know that much.”
“Anything else?”
He shook his head.
“See yourself out.”
I turned toward the computer screen and watched Arin stand under the center spray, her head tilted back as the water poured over her head.
Arin, stop fucking confusing me.
Just when things got good, she’d throw me off again and make me question how much she could be trusted. She knew the guard would report back to me. She knew she could tell me anything. It wasn’t like I was keeping her here against her will or that I’d try to stop her from leaving.
So, why the hell hadn’t she mentioned this before her shower? Was she doing this on purpose? Did she have some other agenda that I didn’t know about?
I had to know.
And I had to know now.
I got up from my chair and went into my apartment, heading to the fridge first to see what she had put inside of it. There were four large tab tim in a bag along with a full basket of vegetables on the counter. She’d gotten dinner, like she’d said she would, and it happened to be my favorite kind of fish. I wondered if she’d remembered that or if it was just a coincidence.
I walked down the hall to my room, and as I entered the bathroom, she said, “Finally.”
I peeled my shirt off and dropped it on the floor.
“I thought you were going to ditch me.”
“Nah.” I left my jeans and boots right beside the T-shirt and joined her under the stream. “When I tell you I’m going to do something, you can expect it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, I stand by my word.” My hands ran up her sides, and my thumbs grazed her nipples, continuing upward until I reached her neck. I gently pressed on her throat, and then I slid to the back of her head and cupped it. “How was your walk?”
“It was short.” She traced circles across my abs. “I got us some food from the market. When I get out of the shower, I’m going to figure out how to cook it.”
She hadn’t cooked the whole time she’d been here. There was no reason for her to start now. She wasn’t familiar with Thai food, the sauces, or vegetables we ate. I didn’t mind doing it, and I liked knowing I was the reason she was putting on the pounds her body needed.
Just a few more, and she’d be the perfect size.
I held her head steady and pressed my body against hers. “Tell me about the mail store, Arin.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Do I sound like I’m kidding?”
“What do you want to know?” She slid out of my grip, grabbed the shampoo, and moved to the other side of the shower to the handheld stream.
“What were you doing there?”
She squirted some into her hands and rubbed it into her hair. “Do I get any privacy at all? I’m living in your apartment. I’m working in your office. I have a man follow me everywhere I go. And, now, I can’t even go into a store without being asked what I’m doing in there.” Her hands dropped from her head as she reached for the sprayer. “What hurts me the most is, once again, you think I was up to something shady, and that’s the only reason you’re asking me all these questions.”
I shifted away from the water and stepped closer to her. “Answer the question, Arin.”
I didn’t need to justify my reasoning. I wanted to know what the fuck she was up to, and I had every right to ask while she was living under my roof.
“I was there to get my passport. Are you happy now? Did you get everything you wanted out of me?”
Not even close.
“Why did you have it sent there?”
She rinsed the shampoo out of her hair before she said, “The paperwork asked for an address. Given what goes on here, I thought it would be more appropriate to use the store than a brothel.”
This was the first time she’d gone to the store, so she had to have coordinated all of this online because she still hadn’t made a call from her phone.
“You rented a box?”
“This is unbelievable.”
She tried walking out of the shower, and I stopped her.
“Answer me.”
“Or what? You’re going to kick me out? You’re going to stop paying me? What’s the threat, Huck? Because I feel like I should be the one threatening you for putting me through this every time I do something without getting your approval first.”
“Arin—”
“I wish you’d just trust me.” Her voice turned so soft.
I wanted to fucking trust her. I was really starting to care about her in a way that I hadn’t felt about any other girl, and I hated that I had to question her every time she returned home. But, goddamn it, she made this so much harder than it needed to be.
We stood in silence.
Then, slowly, her arms lifted, and she crossed them over her chest to block my view of her tits. “I didn’t rent a box,” she said. “I asked the gentleman for my mail. He’d put it in a box because it was priority, and it had come from the embassy. So, I got my passport, stuck it in my pocket, and left.” Her arms dropped. There wasn’t any anger or frustration on her face. She looked completely defeated. “What else do you want from me?”
I didn’t understand why she hadn’t used the address to my apartment or why she’d asked the security guard to wait outside. But, according to her, it was about privacy, and that was something I wouldn’t ever understand.
“Were you going to tell me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I was going to wait and see how I felt in the morning.”
“Why?”
“Because I love waking up next to you. Every morning, it feels better and better. And I wanted to put off this conversation for as long as possible because, now that I have my passport, there’s no reason for me to stay here anymore.”
Fuck.
She was right.
I reached forward, grabbed her, and pulled her against my naked body. The feel of her immediately caused my cock to harden and my balls to tighten. “I’m the reason.”
She looked up at me. “Yes, but neither of us has said that out loud yet.”
“We just need time together.”
“I want that, too.”
She felt incredible in my hands. Her skin was smooth and soft and silky, and it rubbed against my roughness. This goddamn girl was always testing me. Yet she could always justify it.
“I want to know something,” she said, her fingers tracing the snakes on my shoulders. “I think, after all this, I’ve earned myself an answer.”
“Yeah?” I laughed. I took the soap off the shelf and squirted some in my hands before I began massaging it over her body. “What do you want to know?”
“Why do you love snakes?”
That was her favorite question. I’d expected it.
I’d heard it so many fucking times already.
Maybe it was time to give her a response.
I soaped down her neck and over her chest and held each tit in my hand. “I grew up with snakes, had them as pets. My dad loved them. I guess you could say he felt comfortable around them. Over the years, I grew more attached to them. I learned all about their behavior and studied them, so I started my own collection.”
She took my hands off her to look at them. Then, she inspected my arms and chest and sides until she reached my cock. “So, you wanted to cover yourself in them, too?”
“They’re a part of me, Arin.”
She nodded, although I knew she didn’t get it.
“There’s one other thing.” She pulled us under the stream and kept her hands on my shoulders. “I know I’m not the only one you saved, but how many others have lived with you in your apartment?”
I searched her eyes and saw what she was really asking. “No, they stayed in a room in the brothel until I sent them away.” I pulled my hand out of hers and placed it on her cheek to emphasize the answer she
really wanted to hear. “I didn’t fuck any of them.”
Her body relaxed a little. “Where did they go?”
I didn’t want to talk about this. It was part of my past that never needed to be discussed.
“Huck, please answer me.”
I took a breath and moved her head back, so her face was tilted toward me. “I helped them get back home. That’s what we did with every girl we bought. We got them identification, we gave them money, and we transported them. Whatever it took, however much it cost—we made it happen. We gave them a second chance.”
I’d said more than enough. But everything I’d said was the truth.
“You don’t help them anymore?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You’re not getting that answer.”
“Okay.” Her hands dropped to my abs again, and she ran her fingers to my balls and back up. “Well then, will you answer a different one?”
I felt the knife start to jab into my throat. It had been a while since I felt it. I’d needed the break, and now, it was stabbing me worse than ever. “What?”
“Who’s we?”
The tip of the knife pierced my Adam’s apple and twisted in a circle until there wasn’t any air left in my body.
Motherfucker.
“Someone who’s no longer in my life,” I told her.
“Huck—”
“Not another word, Arin.”
I pulled her head back even more, and I lost myself in her neck, kissing across her throat and down to her tits, sucking one of her nipples into my mouth.
I couldn’t talk about Jack.
Not now.
Not fucking ever.
So, I lifted her from the shower, and I carried her to my bed where I ravaged her cunt until her moans were the only noise inside my head.
Anonymous
Before
Time’s up.
I hope you said good-bye.
The Kid
Before
I know it’s been a few years since I’ve written you. I just didn’t have a whole lot to say. And, because I know what happened after the explosion—I’ve heard that part of the story many times—I didn’t think there was a reason to write again for a while.
Now, I have one.
Toy was found dead last week. One shot straight to the chest. That was all it took.
But there’s more.
Shit, I don’t even want to get into it, but whoever did this, they wanted him to suffer.
It was bad, Shank.
Worse than bad.
Now, I’m just like you.
Alone.
If you write back, don’t send it to the old address. I don’t live there anymore. Send it to the one that’s on the envelope.
Shank
Before
As I stared at the kid’s letter and the one from Anonymous, both arriving only a day apart, my hands clenched into fists. My heart was beating so goddamn hard, my ears were ringing.
“Nooo!” I screamed inside my cell. “Fuck nooo!”
If I’d had food in me, I would have been sick.
But I was empty, and so was my fucking heart.
Toy was dead.
I hadn’t believed Anonymous’s letter. I thought they were full of shit. So, I’d tossed it in the corner of my cell, and I hadn’t thought any more about it until the kid’s letter arrived.
No, no, nooo.
Anonymous should have come to this jail and put a bullet through my chest instead of going to Toy. They were after revenge, and they were dealing with the wrong motherfucker.
I had no fear.
I had nothing and no one to hide from.
When I got my hands on that bastard, they would be dead, and their murder wouldn’t be a quick one. I’d add a month of torture for every letter they’d sent me and another six months for what they had done to Toy. I wouldn’t do enough damage to make their heart stop beating. I would bring them right to the edge where they thought it was going to be the end, and then I’d leave them there, shouting and withering and in the most excruciating pain. And then I’d start all over again.
It would be the longest torture I’d ever committed.
And, just when they thought I was going to put them out of their misery, I’d increase their sentence of torture.
Fuck, it was the least they deserved for killing that man.
Even though it had been many years since we were together, I still loved him so hard. He hadn’t been a casualty of the explosion, but our relationship had. When he had taken his last breath, I knew he’d thought of me. He’d still loved me.
Because what I’d had with Toy would never die.
I’d just learned that love couldn’t save us.
It took a few days before I could respond to the kid. I wasn’t ready to talk about Toy quite yet. But, when I felt the words inside me, I reached for the paper. I only had one sheet left and no way to get any more. The inmate four cells down had been released over a year ago. The guard I used to blow had been gone for longer than that.
I was alone in here.
Just like the kid.
It was time to tell you about your father. Not me. Not the one who thought he had knocked up your mother. I was talking about the man who loved you more than any person in this world and who put your life before his own.
Toy.
Since he knew the date your mother had gotten pregnant, he was able to track her whole pregnancy and estimate her due date. She was fucking huge. Miserable. The shack was always so hot, and she was constantly sweating. Toy did everything he could to make her happy. He pressed wet washcloths on her face. He rubbed ice on her skin. He massaged her back and her feet. He didn’t want there to be any stress on you, so he tried to take care of Tyler as best as he could.
When it was close to her due date, I started spending more time at the shack. I didn’t want Toy to be there on his own and have to deal with all that shit by himself. So, I was there when your mother’s contractions first hit and when her water broke.
I had no fucking clue what to do.
But Toy did.
During the hours your mother had slept, he’d been researching home births. He knew what to look for and how to check her progress and if she was dilated enough to begin pushing.
He took charge.
And, when the top of your head poked out, Toy sat between your mother’s legs and he put his fingers inside her and he coached her through the whole thing.
I paced the room, preparing myself for all the blood that was about to come out, trying not to get excited enough where I’d lick it off you.
Your mother fucking screamed like I’d never heard before. They were sounds that I knew Beard would have loved to hear. She was in so much pain, I thought she was going to die. I was happy that cunt would be out of my life for good. But Toy kept her focused. He got her breathing, he supported her throughout the whole labor, and then he pulled you out.
“It’s a boy,” he said.
You cried so goddamn hard, I knew you’d inherited your mother’s set of lungs.
My head snapped in Toy’s direction, and he was cutting the cord that was attached to you. Then, he washed you off and wrapped you in a towel and held you in his arms while you cried.
Toy cried, too.
He whispered to you and rocked you and tried to quiet you while tears kept streaming down the motherfucker’s face.
Your mother watched you from the floor. She didn’t ask for you. She made no noise at all. She just sat there with her thighs covered in blood and her face completely emotionless. She needed to be cleaned up, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to do it.
So, I said to Toy, “Give him to me.” I held my arms out. “And go take care of his mother.”
Toy didn’t want to let you go. He didn’t want to break the bond he was forming with you. But, because he cared so much about you, he placed you in my hands, and he went to help Tyler.
Fuck, you were so small. When you
opened your mouth, there was only gums. When you cried, your whole body clenched up, and tears almost as big as your eyes would drip down.
“Kid,” I whispered, trying to move my arms in a way that would calm you, “you definitely don’t look like Beard; that’s for fucking sure.”
You started to quiet a little, like you’d worn yourself out or something.
“Toy is going to take such good care of you. He’s built you a little bed and filled it with blankets, and he got you some things to play with. You’re really going to like him.”
I was talking to you like you could understand me. But I found myself having to say these things, and I wasn’t sure why.
“I’m going to share you with him, so you’d better be good to him, kid. You’d better listen to what he has to say. You’d better learn from him because I promise, he’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
He was the best thing that had ever happened to me.
As I looked up, Toy was walking over to us. His hands were wet from having just washed them, and your mother was curled in a ball in the middle of her cage. She’d covered her face, so she couldn’t see us.
Toy didn’t have words. He just held out his arms, and I set you on top of them. He pulled you right up to his face and he smelled your forehead and he kissed your cheek.
I watched the two of you.
I watched in fucking awe.
I’d never seen anyone love someone that much.
Toy turned you, so you faced me. “He looks like you,” he said. He dipped his lips and kissed your small nose. “That makes me love him even more.”
Jesus, kid, I loved that man. I loved him as much as he loved you.
And just because we weren’t together when he died didn’t mean my feelings for him had stopped.
I could promise you one thing. If I ever found out who killed him, I would make sure they suffered.
I placed the letter in an envelope, and I wrote the kid’s new address on the front. I stuck it in the corner of my cell, so I could mail it in the morning.
