Messy Love

by Stephanie Witter

  As I reached my level, I looked down to get my cell phone to call Sophie because I didn’t think I’d be able to endure this waiting game on my own, but right before I unlocked the screen, a presence caught my attention.

  I couldn’t explain why my heart sped up so fast it hurt in my chest, or why my blood ran cold through my veins. I stopped there in the middle of the hall and looked up, unsure of why I dreaded doing so.

  My eyes first landed on gaunt hands from which veins, blue-green protruded. Those hands were so big that I feared the kind of damage they could do. The bruised knuckles attested to the violence I so easily pictured.

  Slowly, I trailed my eyes up and met with a hard face, the kind of face you’d see on someone who leads a hard life. The man’s traits were harsh, carved so deeply his wrinkles hardened his expression that was already downright scary. His mouth with lips I bet had been once full was pursed until the lines around his thin lips created sinister shadows.

  His dark eyes finished to chill me to the bones. They spoke of danger and anger, of everything dark that had never touched me but threatened me. And what was worse was that I knew this man. I knew him not because I could see bits and pieces of the man who had stolen my heart in spite of everything, but because I had seen him earlier, not even two hours ago.

  I opened my mouth to talk, to say something, to find a way to get to my apartment safely, but my voice was gone. I stood there, gripping my phone tightly, my keys in the other hand and my mouth open as my eyes locked on the man Wyatt feared the most.

  “I see you know who I am,’’ the man said and his voice, cavernous, made me take a step back. “Not so fast, cutie.’’

  He snagged my forearm tightly. The press of his sweaty fingers in my skin had me cringing, but the pained sound that crept out of my lips wouldn’t catch my neighbors’ attention if they were home.

  “Let me go,’’ I mumbled through gritted teeth as I tugged on my arm. The joint in my shoulder protested when he pulled hard once. Tears invaded my eyes. “What do you want?’’

  “Tell me one thing, cutie. Do I look like a man who is stupid enough not to keep eyes on my son when I’m not around?’’

  I stopped wriggling then. I ceased to breathe too.

  He knew. He knew about Wyatt, about Mr. Burton and the cops.

  “You should have left Wyatt alone,’’ I whispered and fought my tears because now wasn’t the time. Now, I must be brave and find a way out of this because if he sought me out and knew about the trap that was being set up, then I was in danger and nobody would be looking for me for hours. Everything could happen in hours. It took mere seconds for my parents' car to barrel into a tree and put me in a two-month coma. So hours…

  With my chest heaving, I forced my eyes to stay in his, to gauge his intentions, but all I saw was a cold kind of anger.

  “You’re a brave little thing, aren’t you? I see why my son is so taken with you.’’

  “You know nothing about Wyatt.’’

  “Is that right?’’ He snickered then, and the sound sent more chills down my spine. His fingers dug deeper into my forearm. His brittle nails scratched at my flesh, but I held on and didn’t move. At this point, I knew he wouldn’t let me go. I was trapped, at his mercy. “Cutie, I know enough to be sure he’s going to come running once he realizes I have you.’’

  “And what are you going to do to him? Don’t you th—‘’

  “Shut up,’’ he cut me off harshly. His face was so close to mine his spit hit me on the cheek. This close, I smelt the liquor coming from his mouth, the stale tobacco that seemed to follow him and mostly, I couldn’t escape the hatred in his eyes. “You have no idea what I’m capable of, cutie, and you sure don’t want to know. Now, keep your mouth shut.’’

  Before I could take enough breath to scream until my throat was sore, his other hand fell over my mouth and clamped my lips shut so hard I bit my cheeks.

  Blood took over the taste in my mouth, and the tears in my eyes fell at last.

  ***

  WYATT

  Fucking hell.

  That’s all I kept repeating in my head as I sipped a Gatorade pretending that nothing was amiss. That was a joke.

  Every-single-thing was amiss, starting with the junkies snorting lines or putting a needle in their veins. Or the smoke from joints that never seemed to leave the place anymore and gave me a permanent headache.

  Low-lives dealers from around the city and suburbs grew more restless as my father was still a no-show, thirty minutes after the appointed time.

  Today was supposed to be a delivery to some dealers so they could re-stock and go back to their business. It was rare when they were so many at once in the same place, but apparently, that was an important meeting set up by some boss that wouldn't be showing his mug of course.

  I didn’t make a lick of sense of that shit, and I didn’t want to anyway. All I wanted was my biological father here so Dad could give the green light to the team on standby.

  With the mic they’ve put on me, I had no doubt they had enough to put away the people in my apartment. After all, they kept on throwing left and right how many bucks they’ve made over the week, named drugs and one even talked about knifing someone in an alley.

  But these low-lives dealers, some of which weren’t even twenty-one, weren’t the primary target. My father was.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket. I started when it vibrated against my thigh, but covered it by standing up.

  “Hey, where’re you goin’?’’ A guy with a red hair asked me as he looked away from the GTA game as the other cursed him.

  “Can I still take a piss in my own home? Fuck,’’ I snapped and made my way to the bathroom under the whistles and curses of the degenerates. What they had no idea was how badly I shook, how my guts knotted. One wrong move and things would escalate.

  Once securely locked in the bathroom, I fished my phone out with shaky hands. I trembled so much the phone about fell in the toilet, but I tightened my sweaty grip on it.

  One missed call from Dad.

  I pressed my ear against the closed door and breathed out when I heard them fighting over the game.

  He’s still not here. - Wyatt

  We know. We can’t wait longer. He’s been tipped off for all we know. Where are you? - Dad

  Fuck. I rubbed at my face and raked a hand through my hair.

  I’m locked in the bathroom. - Wyatt

  Stay there. Don’t move until someone gets you out. And crouch down. It’ll be over soon, Son. - Dad

  Fear grew then. I wasn’t afraid for my immediate safety because I trusted my father and his colleagues. I was terrified because if they didn’t catch my father now, it meant he knew I snitched and I was sure he’d come back for revenge.

  I wouldn’t be rid of him, of his poison and of the demons that clawed at me day and night.

  I put my phone down and sat. With my back against the door, my legs spread on either side of the toilet and my head down against my raised legs, I covered my ears with my hands when the first shout rang through the apartment.

  Then a gunshot broke the silence in the other room followed by yells and screams. I closed my eyes tightly, so tight spots appeared behind my eyelids.

  Memories flashed in my head, of brawls that drew blood in front of me when I was a kid, of someone’s eyes turning glassy from death, of bruises and punches, or curses and crass laughers. Everything came back to hit me at once as hell broke loose, ruining my little life right in the next room without putting an end to that nightmare.

  ***

  MARISSA

  I had very limited knowledge of bad men and the danger they represented. What I knew came from the TV series and action flicks I had watched over the years, and all were Hollywood made, but something told me that the fact Wyatt’s biological father didn’t cover my eyes when he took me to a dilapidated apartment didn’t bode well for me.

  After a fifteen-minute car ride, he parked in front of an old building in the wo
rst part of Atlanta and forcefully lead me to this dilapidated apartment that smelled of mold and dirt. But what had my stomach rolling wasn’t the smell, it was the traces of dried blood and other suspicious stains, some of which I had under my ass on the destroyed mattress he forced me to sit on in the corner of the main room that was smaller than my apartment. The only other furniture in the room was the table and chairs in the middle where he sat, watching me.

  I was gagged, my hands were bound together, and I was at this monster’s mercy while he put into motion a devious plan to get Wyatt here, so he could do God knows what to him.

  I wasn’t just afraid anymore. I was terrified. My breathing was all choppy, coming out in loud pant through my nose as the dirty gag chaffed the skin on the corners of my mouth.

  “Calm down, cutie. If you keep that up, you’re going to faint.’’

  I tried talking but, it was useless. Only a pitiful noise came out, sounding more like I was begging than the curse I intended to throw at him.

  His laugh rang through the empty apartment, echoing hollowly through the room. That was further proof that he didn’t care if someone knew he was here. That was another detail that told me things wouldn't end well for me.

  “You’re feisty. Don’t know if that’s stupid or amusing in your situation.’’ He shrugged and then took a gun out from the waistband of his old jeans. My eyes fell on the gleaming metal that held the kind of lethal power that ended lives with just a finger. “See that gun, cutie? I’ve had it for years. It served me right when I had to take out someone who would cross me. It never failed me and never will.’’ He aimed at me then, and I stopped blinked as more tears fell from my eyes to further dampen the gag.

  Some people said that you saw your life go right in front of you when death knocked on your door, but it had never happened to me. I almost died years ago in the car accident, but only darkness swallowed me. I don’t remember being scared either when the car went into a tailspin, and the tree got closer and closer on my side.

  Right now, things were different.

  My life didn’t pass through my eyes, but the possibilities did.

  Love, a family, children, a tattoo shop, a grown-up Paul, Wyatt… Wyatt and Wyatt.

  These passed through my mind as terror seized me, chilling me so much I started shaking to the point of biting hard into the gag until my jaw and teeth ached.

  What movies didn’t tell you when you had a gun aimed at you was the sudden urge to pee, so strong it was a battle not to wet yourself. They didn’t tell you either how your body went numb and how you welcomed any and all pains in your body because they were a testament that you were still alive, still breathing.

  “I’ve never taken it kindly when someone betrayed me. Not Wyatt’s mother, not the first dealer that knocked me out and took my stash when I started dealing, not your father.’’

  I blinked and looked away from the gun to watch the man that held me captive. His sinister smile… That smile had me pressing my back against the wall even if it put more strain on my shoulders.

  “Looks like I’ve got your attention, cutie.’’

  WYATT

  “Fuck!’’ I yelled and paced in front of Dad, hands in my hair. “How could he have known?’’

  “He probably kept someone to trail you. He’s higher up in the ranks in this organization, Wyatt. But don’t worry. We’ll find him.’’

  “And then what?’’ I stopped pacing and faced my father who’s drawn features showed me he wasn’t as fine with things as he wanted me to believe. For one thing, he had immediately asked one of his colleagues to get someone to protect Mom and Ava once the arrests were over. “The cops haven’t been able to pin him down, Dad.’’

  “Criminals all make a mistake, Wyatt. All of them. Don’t think for one second I will stop until he’s behind bars and you’re safe from him.’’ He walked to me and put a hand on the back of my neck. “You listen to me, son. I will never let him harm you again. Never.’’

  “He’ll never stop. Not now.’’

  “Look at me.’’ He waited for me to look him in the eyes again. He was nothing like my biological father and everything like a dad, my dad. It calmed me. “I hope this asshole comes because then I’ll put him away. You never keep something like this to yourself. You got me?’’

  “Yeah.’’ I nodded and sagged. “Yeah, I got you, Dad. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.’’

  “Come here,’’ he said and pulled me into him and hugged me as the tension and my fears flew out of my eyes in a river of tears.

  I was a man, grown up and going through hell and I didn’t care if people in front of the police station saw me break down in my dad’s arms.

  “He’s not your family, Wyatt. Your mother, Ava and I are.’’

  I nodded and pulled back, rubbing my face to dry my tears as I took a deep breath to force the weight on my chest to leave.

  “What happens now?’’

  “You’ve given your statement, and I was able to pull some strings, so you’re a witness in this case. For now, that’s all there is to it. You’ll go back home with me, and I’ll keep someone in front of the house until we get a lead on that asshole.’’

  “I don’t think I’ve heard you curse so much.’’

  “Some people deserve it.’’ His frown didn’t ease up. “You should join your mother and Ava. I’ve had them on the phone, and they’re anxious to see you. Your mom is a mess.’’

  “I’d like to call Marissa first. She…’’ I trailed off and watched my father’s face as a smile broke the serious look he had been sporting since he joined me in front of my place that morning.

  “You love her, don’t you?’’

  “Dad…’’

  “Hey, son, life goes on. I don’t blame you, but it’s going to be an interesting talk when you tell Lydia.’’ At my cringe, he laughed and patted my shoulder. “Wait here. Officer Riggs will drive you home.’’

  “Alright. And Dad? Thank you for everything. I don’t think I’ve said that enough over the years.’’

  “I’m your father, Wyatt. I love you, and I know how you feel. It shows every time you’re with us. I hope you can stop seeing yourself as separate from our family.’’

  It’s with a heavy heart that I watched my father walk back inside the police station as I leaned against the wall and waited for the officer.

  In a perfect world, all this shit would have given me a brand new perspective, a way to discard my demons and just be. But it wasn’t a perfect world, and my issues were still there. They would always be there unless I started to work on them and stopped hiding behind them whenever fear seized me.

  Right then, my phone buzzed in my pants.

  Unknown number.

  The hair on the back of my head raised.

  I brought the phone to my ear and waited. I only heard someone breathing fast.

  “You better keep your mouth shut and listen to me,’’ Tim said out of breath. He paused then, expecting me to say something but I couldn’t. I was out of words, out of thoughts. “For once you do what you’re told. It looks like you pissed dear old dad, Wyatt. You shouldn’t have done that, but hey, I’ll love to see you pay for that. If you want to say goodbye to your pretty girl you better hurry.’’

  “Wh—‘’

  “Shut up, Wyatt. I swear that if you don’t your father is going to put a bullet in her head and she won’t look so pretty then. Go to the last apartment you lived with your father. Better remember the address.’’

  And the line went dead.

  One of my worst nightmares came to life.

  The monster that was my blood had one of the people I loved.

  Without a second thought, I ran and ignored Officer Riggs when he walked out and called my name.

  ***

  MARISSA

  I tried talking, but the gag made it impossible. I tugged on my hands, but the plastic cuffs restrained me. I stopped when the bite of the plastic in my wrists turned vicious and ti
ngles spread in the tips of my fingers.

  My only option was to look at the man that kept me prisoner, while he smirked down at me after dropping a bomb I couldn’t possibly understand.

  What had my biological father anything to do with Wyatt’s father? What the hell was wrong here?

  “Is it frustrating? Not being able to talk or move, I mean.’’

  His smirk widened and turned more wicked if that was possible. Or maybe that was because the lights in the apartment were nonexistent. Save for the lights from the city, the room was in the dark, and only his cell phone’s screen erratically lighting up broke the night to shed a cold glow on his face.

  He lit another cigarette and blew smoke in my direction.

  “Let me tell you a story, cutie.’’ He took out of his jeans a flask and had a long sip. No sooner had the liquor fallen down his throat that he brought his cigarette to his mouth.

  “Over the years I’ve been crossed or betrayed a handful of times. The first time was when I was nineteen by a junkie dealer who was out of drugs. He jumped me and beat me to a pulp before he stole my stash and put me in a very tight position with my boss. The second time was a few years later when Wyatt’s mother left me for one of my enemies and they fled to Los Angeles, or they tried. The fourth time was just today when my son, my blood, snitched to the cops. Now, you must be wondering what about the third time.’’ He brought the flask to his mouth and threw his head back to drink. His lips, still smirking, glistened from the liquor. “The third time was maybe over six years ago, and the man that betrayed me was none other than your biological father.’’ He pointed at me. “You don’t look too much like him other than your hair and the cheekbones, I guess.’’ He squinted then. “Anyway, do you know what all of them have in common save for my son? They’re dead.’’

  My eyes filled with more tears and my breathing accelerated, but my lungs burned with the panic attack that grew from my guts to spread in my veins to reach every part of my body. I knew where it was going. I knew what he meant.