I frantically searched under the bed, hoping there was something I could use as a weapon. I felt around until my hand felt something heavy. I pulled it out and gripped my hand around it: one of Dom’s barbells.
Perfect.
I crept out the door, gently closing it behind me, barbell in hand.
By the time I got out, Dom was coming up the stairs.
The police were right behind him.
When he saw me, his eyes widened. He shook his head frantically, mouthing the words, “No. Hide.”
I slipped back inside. Barbell still in hand, I raced toward the bathroom door and shut it as quietly as I could. When I heard the front door close, I held my breath.
Footsteps.
On the other side of the door was Dom’s voice. “I told them I needed to come up and get my coat. Stay here and do NOT leave the church until you hear from me, do you understand?”
No. I didn’t.
My palms were so sweaty I almost dropped the barbell. “What do you mean? Aren’t they going to arrest me?”
A nervous scoff reached me through the door. “Cain, they aren’t here for you. They’re here for me.”
CHAPTER TWO
I inhaled to speak but his footsteps were already heading toward the edge of the apartment. With the snap of a slamming door, I was alone.
Again.
I don’t remember falling but I remember the coolness of the laminate floor under my hands. The room became a smudged, blurry version of its former self, like a car windshield on a rainy day, and I realized tears were in my eyes.
I slapped myself across the face.
Don’t be stupid, pull yourself together.
With a couple deep breaths, I shook the tears away. I still had no idea what to do next. Dom was gone. He’d told me to stay at the church until I heard from him. I had watched enough TV to know that when someone got arrested, they at least got a phone call.
For lack of a better idea, I got up and left the bathroom. Dom’s chair was facing away from the window, so I scooted it around so I could see outside.
What did he do? The man who had taken me in had been snatched away from me in handcuffs. He walked to the police car with his head high, but I couldn’t help notice his muscles stiffen as the officers guided him into the back seat.
I stared out the window and watched people wander past the church, having no idea what had just happened, no idea that a great, kind man had been removed from the outside world. What would become of him? He was a priest, after all. Until I found him in that alley when we first met, I would have thought that even the nastiest criminal would still show respect to a priest.
Apparently not.
I didn’t care one bit what he had done. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious; he did have a lot of tips for hiding from the police. But I was a murderer. Who was I to judge him? Maybe that was why he had taken me in when I needed it the most: he and I were the same.
I stared out the window for hours or days; I couldn’t be sure. Night had fallen by the time the phone call I had been waiting for finally came. Or maybe it was the early hours of morning. It didn’t matter. I almost dropped the phone when I picked it up, not even bothering with hellos and how-are-yous. “Dom? What happened?”
“Hi, kid.” Clinking of metal on cement echoed behind him. “I’m sorry.”
I braced myself against the wall. “What are you talking about?”
Dom paused. “I’m not who you think I am.”
I waited. The barely audible crackling in his voice made my legs weak. I knew that whatever he was about to say would decide how long he would be away from me. “Who are you then?”
Dom sighed. “I’m not really a priest. At least not on paper.”
“What are you talking about? On paper? I’ve seen you.”
“Back when I was younger, I made some bad choices. More like terrible choices. The kind that make it impossible for you to go to seminary school. The church saved me while I was in jail. Well, maybe not the church, ‘cause it wanted nothing to do with me, but God did. I wanted to devote my life to Him and His teachings. I wanted a church, my own congregation.”
I held my breath, cursing myself for not knowing what to say.
Useless. After he saved your ass, you can’t even comfort him.
“I prayed for an opportunity, and God gave me one in the form of the priest who worked at my local church growing up. He’d managed to fall in love, and not just with God. Her name was Lauren, first love and all that.” Dom paused his story to cough, and a sound escaped him that I could tell came from deep in his lungs. I shuttered thinking that the dirt and disease of where he was had already gotten to him. “He’d tried to ignore it when he went to seminary but it just got stronger. So when he was offered a position here, in D.C., he asked me if I wanted it.
“I argued with him, telling him there was no way we’d get away with it. That it would get us both caught. Nevertheless, I knew it was my only shot. So I got some fake paperwork, and I took his title, position, and his name.”
He lowered his voice. “You have to do something for me.”
My response escaped my lips before I even thought about it. “Anything.”
“These policemen have bigger problems than a little identity theft. They’re gonna let me out in six months. Stay at the church and tell everyone that I’m on a goodwill trip, Africa or something. Doesn’t matter. Just don’t let them find out I’m in here. Tell them you’re taking care of the church until I get back. There’s money hidden in the apartment. You can have a place to stay and I can have my life back when I get out of here. No one will find out. Deal?”
“Deal. I’ll take care of it, I promise.” My voice quivered.
“I’m out of time. I gotta go. And kid? Be careful.”
The phone went dead.
Without Dom, the apartment was too quiet. I could hear the wood of the antique walls creak every time a slight breeze crept by, something I never noticed while he was around. The pipes talked too, sounding as if they were scraping against each other, like a villain rubbing his hands together while plotting his next move.
I had to get out. Dom kept his keys hanging on a hook by the door. In one motion, I snatched them from their place, swung open the door, and slammed it shut behind me.
When I ran down the church steps, I almost forgot to lock the front door. This was going to be my home and my responsibility for the next six months at least, and I knew I had better get used to it. The whole church fell to me. I looked up at it. It had a bell tower at the top. I laughed at myself, knowing that I didn’t even know how to get to it. How does someone take care of a bell anyway?
Better figure it out.
From the front yard, I could see up to our apartment window. When I looked out the window, it seemed as though I could see to the end of the world, or at least the street. The roof looked worn, and the paint looked like it used to be white. Now it was the color of an old woman’s stained teeth, remnants of the eye-catcher it used to be.
I vowed to find a way to make the church even better than Dom had left it. He would come home to a bright white building with a perfect roof. He couldn’t afford to make those changes before, but I would find a way.
But not today.
For the moment, I turned away and marched down the street, the church shrinking into the distance. I walked until I could look back and see no trace of it. I stuck to side streets, just as Dom had told me.
The buildings that surrounded me on both sides were peeling away from themselves, paint curling up at the corners like Dom’s old paperbacks; some even looked like they would sink under the pressure of my finger. I passed by a gas station with no cars in front of it. Each pump had a quickly scrawled note taped to it: “No gas here.” I glanced inside to see if at least the convenience store part was still open. It was, but the cashier stood in the building alone.
I passed by several other businesses, but they had no cashiers to speak of. A tiny bookstore h
ad a crooked CLOSED sign hanging in the window. I let myself hope it was just closed for the day, but then I noticed the dust caked in its display windows.
There was not a single smile to be found on any of the people I passed. Their eyes were all fixed on the pavement in front of them, only briefly glancing up to make sure they didn’t run into anything.
In my situation, lack of eye contact was a good thing.
Flanked by strangers and old buildings, I tried to figure out what to do next. What would I do if someone came to the door of the church? Had the police seen me as they left?
One stupid slipup and it’s over.
What about his service on Sundays? Or his Bible study? I would have to keep the door locked. The parishioners would get the hint. But I couldn’t do that because that would mean his entire congregation would be gone by the time he got back.
I guessed I would have to have a very convincing story.
He’s the one who did this to you, he’s been lying to you this whole time. Whatever happens is his problem. You could just leave, find somewhere else to stay.
No. Maybe Dom had lied. Maybe I didn’t even know his real name. Yet he had been there for me more than anyone else ever had. Deserting him was not an option.
I turned down one more side street and stopped short. Before he saw me, I ducked behind the wall of a building and flattened myself against it.
What the hell?
I couldn’t believe what I saw. Around the corner from where I was hidden, I saw Nick, the lonely kid from Dom’s Bible study, handing a small plastic bag of little crystal rocks to a woman in a tight red dress who looked about as old as my mother. She threw a fist full of cash at him, so much that it spilled out of his tiny hand and he had to bend over to scrape it off the concrete. He stuffed the cash into a backpack and zipped it shut. The woman glanced around, shook his hand, and then marched out onto the main road, barely missing me. Nick was still hidden, standing in the side street.
Dom’s student was dealing heroin.
I marched up to him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “What the hell are you doing Nick?” He looked up at me, white and shaking.
He pulled away. “Get away from me, I don’t know you.” I panicked when I realized that he was right, he didn’t know me. He had no idea I had even been in the church watching his Wednesday sessions. There was no reason for me to know his name, other than the truth. And the truth was something I needed to keep to myself.
He started to run out of the alley but I blocked his way. I had to think fast. “I’m a friend of your mom’s. Again, what the hell are you doing?”
He looked at me quizzically. Smart kid; he wasn’t buying it. “How do you know my mom? I’ve never met you.”
I racked my brain, trying to think of any information I could that might convince him. Unfortunately, I could only think of one thing. “Your parents are never home. They’re always out selling stuff because they both lost their jobs and they don’t want to lose your house.” I hated to bring it up but I had to get him to stay around long enough to listen to me.
Nick’s face fell toward his tattered white sneakers. I could tell his situation wasn’t one he wanted to talk about, especially not with a stranger. “What’s your name?”
I looked down at the pavement under us, and ran my hand through my hair. I had accidentally told Dom my real name and that had worked out, but this time I might not be so lucky. “Jack. Now, will you tell me what the hell you are doing with that garbage?”
“Why, do you want some?” I glared at him and snatched his bag out of his grasp. “Hey, that’s mine! You gotta pay for that.” His face went white, making his freckles look like black little poppy seeds.
I threw open the bag and dug my hand through the wads of bills until I found something hard. Sure enough, there were eight more bags resting at the bottom. “We’re going to get rid of this. Right now.” I gathered the bags and walked toward a nearby garbage can, but I felt two hands clasping onto my shirt, and I found myself dragging the weight of a ten-year-old boy behind me.
“No, you can’t! She’ll kill me. Please, I can’t go back without that.”
I stopped and turned to face him. “Who? Someone’s making you do this?” Nick’s flushed, tear-stained face looked up at me. My voice softened. “Please tell me, I want to help you.”
He sniffled as he talked. “Maureen. I live with her. There’s a bunch of us. We sell her stuff and she lets us stay with her. Says we’re a family. I gotta earn my keep though. If I come back without selling those bags, she’ll kick me out. I got nowhere to go.”
“What about your parents?”
He hesitated, and glanced around avoiding my eyes. “Haven’t seen ‘em in three months.”
Even as the words came out, I knew they shouldn’t. “Just come stay with me. And you don’t have to do anything for it.”
Nick shook his head, hard and fast. “You don’t understand. No one leaves. Once you’re in, you’re in. If you’re out…well, no one gets out.” His face stiffened, almost like he thought somehow she could hear him. “Maureen’s real nice though. Feeds us and we all have a bed. She even sometimes reads to us before we go to sleep. Real nice, I swear.”
I felt my skin get hot, and my limbs start shaking. Sweat formed at my temples, and I tried to slow my breathing so I didn’t scare him. The woman had a bunch of kids in her house and they were too scared to leave. But like Nick, they probably thought they had nowhere else to go. What kind of person traps children at their weakest moments and has them sell drugs?
“Take me to her.”
“You can’t, I’ll get in trouble.” Nick turned to run but I grabbed him by the shoulders.
I kept my voice as steady as I could. “I just want to talk to her. I can get you out of this. You don’t really want to be doing this, do you?” Nick stared at me for a silent minute. I played on the only piece of information I could. Again. It was cruel, but I had to get him away from this woman. For Dom. “Your mom wouldn’t like you doing this, would she?” Nick shook his head and looked down at his shoes. I held out my hand. “Then take me to her and we can work this out.” He left my side to grab the backpack and then took my hand and squeezed it tight.
As we rounded the corner of the alley and out into the street, he tugged my hand toward him. We stopped and when he looked up at me, he said the absolute last thing I expected, “You got any weapons on you?”
I didn’t answer for a moment. When I recovered from the shock, I shook my head.
“You should.”
I had no choice but to take his word for it, so we stopped by the only store that was still open on the street: a hardware store. I had Nick wait outside while I combed the aisles, searching for just the right thing to defend us against a woman I’d never met. The light bulbs had grayed over, barely lighting the room, and I wondered if he would be able to replace them once they went out completely. The bins of tools, nails, and screws were sparse, but at the back of the store, I saw it: a switchblade knife. I stared at it, black with a design etched onto the blade similar to the fake tattoo Dom had given me. I picked it up and it felt heavy in my hand.
For some reason, the look on Nick’s face told me that one wouldn’t be enough. Or maybe it wasn’t Nick’s face—maybe it was the fact that my palms were sweating and I had zero idea what to expect. I picked up a second knife, holding both of them in the palms of my hands.
Nick was clear that I needed a weapon. But there was one problem that I hadn’t shared with him that made all the difference: I had no money. Not a dime. All I had grabbed when I left the church was Dom’s keys.
The shopkeeper’s gray hair hung in his eyes as I entered the store. His lips could barely manage a slight smile, and the second his lips had curled upward they had sunk back down again. There had been a picture on the counter of him with his arms wrapped around a beautiful white-haired woman in a blue dress. Both of them were grinning ear to ear.
I wondered where his smile and tha
t woman had gone.
The store was barely still open. How could I steal from the man? His sadness was contagious and I couldn’t imagine adding to it. But I needed to help Nick, plain and simple, and if she was as dangerous as he said she was, I needed a weapon to do it.
I took careful, defined steps toward the door. The only sound I heard was my shoes tapping against the wooden floor.
By instinct, I started walking toward the cash register, like any other time I found something I wanted in a store. Only this time, the items happened to be hidden in each of my pockets.
I made a sharp left toward the door.
He made brief eye contact with me and I almost cracked. I felt words of apology try to burst from my lips and I had to will my hands to remain at my sides instead of throwing the knives on the counter and running out the door.
The shopkeeper must have known. My hand reached for the doorknob when I heard a deep voice behind me. I could hear the spit and age rattling in his throat when he said, “Hey, kid.”
I turned.
“Take care of yourself, okay?”
Maybe it was something in my eyes. Maybe my hand shook more than I thought. But that old man knew that I was desperate for something, and he decided that I needed it more than he did. Despite his business falling apart around him, he let me walk out with something that belonged to him.
I nodded as I slipped out the door.
Nick was waiting on the porch. “Hurry, she may not even be there anymore. If you want to meet her, we gotta get moving.”
I fell in step with him as we headed farther down the street. “Where are we going anyway?”
“Birch Street, right at the edge of town. She lives in a big white house. Three stories tall. Really pretty.”
“The house or the woman?”
Nick’s cheeks flushed. “Both, I guess.”
Nick was a good foot and a half shorter than I was but he moved his little legs as fast as a mouse running from a cat. I had to practically jog to keep up with him.
Between the Cracks and Burning Doors: Book 2 of The Extraction List Series Page 3
