“Yeah, yeah, grandma,” Nina would say with sarcasm. “Not all of us had the luxury of dirt farming during the dust bowl.”
She regretted every snarky comment she ever made to her wise, hard-working grandmother. A woman who knew the value of a dollar, a warm bed, a place to call home. Someone who had become an adult at 13 not because she put a needle in her arm, or let a boy feel her breast, but because her own sweat and blood and tears had gone into the family meal every night. A woman who’d died when Nina was behind bars.
There was something glamorous about Cammy, while there was always just something a little rogue about Nina. Cammy liked organized sports, while Nina liked hiking in the mountains. Cammy always did her hair and nails, while Nina chewed her fingernails down to the cuticle. Cammy had sleek chocolate hair, a peachy glow to her skin. Her eyes, a beautiful soft hazel. She was lovely to look at, but non-threatening. Nina on the other hand had inherited her father's jet-black hair and green eyes, pale skin, a combination that set people on edge. Once when they were little girls, Cammy had called her an ugly Snow White. Well, both she and Snow White had sure served their sentences for their stupidity. Never take candy from strangers, whether that candy is white powder or a poison apple.
Nina often wondered what would have happened had she listened to Cammy that day. The one time that Cammy reached out, trying to talk some common sense into Nina.
“Nina, this has gone too far. You're in over your head. I don't know what childish games you're trying to play, but enough is enough. This guy is toxic.”
Her voice, unfortunately, had sounded too haughty, too full of herself and self-centered. So Nina didn’t listen.
“And what do you know about it, Cammy? Who are you to judge the life I live? Not everyone can be as perfect as you. Not everyone wants a cookie cutter house in the suburb. A boring husband and clichéd children!”
Nina could still hear the words as clear as day in her mind. She regretted them every single moment of her life. If only she’d listened and walked away from Luther.
Nina looked up from her sojourn into memory to see Melanie standing in front of her. Both eyes were black and swollen, swirls of purple forming like a stormy sky on her pale face. Blood had caked around her nose and lips, crested over but not old enough to scab. Her left wrist had been wrapped tightly in an Ace bandage.
Melanie’s brown eyes flashed a defeated, betrayed look, like a beaten puppy, lost and desperate. No creature should ever look like that.
Nina's heart instantly clutched as she knew exactly what happened. But she asked anyway.
Melanie offered up a soft shrug to the question.
Nina took her right hand and squeezed. “Tell me.”
Melanie’s lip trembled as she let the words tumble out.
“It was Ed. He was high again. And I don’t know, but he got it in his head that I was fucking around. I swear, I’m not. But you know how it goes. He gets high and he don’t know the difference about anything. He don't know right from wrong, truth, reality.” Melanie shrugged as if this all should make sense. As if it were normal.
Nina ground her teeth together.
Melanie went on with a sigh. “I should really know better by now, but sometimes I mouth off because I get so angry. You know? I'm just so sick of this shit, you know? I'm trying to clean up, trying to set a good example for little Tara, and Ed goes on a three-day bender!” Melanie threw up her arms, revealing finger-shaped bruises on her inner bicep.
Fire climbed up Nina’s neck and cheeks as the vision formed in her mind. She reached for Melanie’s hand and squeezed.
“Melanie, this isn’t your fault. Don't you dare defend that fucking ass hole. I don't care what you said. I don't care if you called his mama a gutter slut. He doesn't ever get to lay a hand on you, okay?” Nina said.
Melanie sniffled and pulled her lips up. Then she winced, as the motion cracked the cut on her lip.
“Where’s Tara? Did she see him hit you?”
Melanie wiped her eyes and shook her head. “No, she was in her room. I dropped her at my mama's on my way in this morning.”
Nina sighed. What a mess. “Come on, let me clean you up. Sit down.” Nina pulled out the first aid kit from an overhead cabinet. Carefully she cleansed Melanie's lip with antiseptic, gently wiping away the blood and smeared makeup.
“How do you keep going back to him, Melanie?”
Melanie shrugged meekly. Nina noticed for the first time how frail Melanie had gotten; fragile bones tied together with loose string and a padded bra.
“Oh come on Nina you know better than to ask a stupid question like that,” Melanie said, smiling slightly. “Only love I ever knew came at the end of a fist. Don’t need a psychology degree to put it together.”
“Yeah, I know. But just because the cliché exists, doesn't mean you have to personify it. You have a choice you know.”
“But I don't really. I don't have anywhere to go. I've got Tara to worry about. And as much of a prick as Ed is, he makes sure Tara’s got food, clothes. Pays the rent. Makes sure she's okay.”
“Tara won’t be ok if Ed kills her mom, will she? Jesus Christ, what if he beats you so badly you go brain dead?”
Nina saw it when she was in group therapy as part of her early release—a woman whose husband had beaten her so badly she actually dropped a few IQ points. She'd gotten hooked on pills to dull the constant pain.
It was amazing how vulnerable women were at the hands of those who were supposed to love them. Fathers, brothers, husbands. More than half of the women murdered in this country were killed by a man who was supposed to love them.
She finished patching up Melanie's face.
“Well, I’m sorry but you can’t go out on the floor like that,” Nina said. “We run a classy joint here. You'll just scare all the high-paying customers away.”
Melanie laughed. “Yeah, I know. But I didn't want to flake again.”
“I appreciate that. But you should go to the doctor.”
“I can’t go to the doctor. No insurance.”
Nina looked her over and shook her head. “Well you can’t go home.”
“Look I know I can't work on the floor, but is there anything I can do to help back here? I mean it's not just about the money, I just need to do something to occupy me.”
Nina considered her. She didn’t have room for this kinda of drama, but how could she turn away a woman needing solace? That was her whole point in opening this place, wasn’t it?
“Yeah okay. I got some inventory things that I could use some help with. Your brain clear enough for some basic math?”
Melanie nodded fervently. “Thanks Nina. You're better to me than I deserve.”
“Melanie, honey, it’s talk like that that got you beaten to a bloody pulp. You gotta toughen up, girl. You got to get some self-esteem back.”
“I’ll work on it.”
“Do you have anywhere to go tonight?”
Melanie looked hesitant and chewed her bloody lip, breaking open the scab. “Not really. Tara can stay at mom’s, and she’ll be good there, but you know she doesn't let me come around.”
“Yeah, I know. I understand the feeling. You can stay with me if you need.”
“Thanks, Nina.”
Chapter 11
After Nina and Melanie had closed the restaurant down for the night, she couldn’t bring herself to go home. She was too agitated to sleep, to read or do anything quiet. She debated seeing where the other girls had all ended up tonight, maybe take Melanie out for a good time to forget, but she was too worked up to be good company for anyone else. She pulled out a cold beer and went back into the kitchen.
She pulled out some supplies to make a quiche for the morning. It always went over well with the tourists and the kitchen was always happy to have something pre-made.
When she couldn't sleep or focus, she turned to cooking. It was a skill she learned when she was inside. Spending those hours chopping potatoes, cleaning up bacon fat, it g
ave her solace from the outside world. Gave her a task to focus on, something that she could complete start to finish in one sitting. It helped her put the world into perspective.
She pulled out spinach and eggs and milk, some spices, some mushrooms. She set the metal bowl on the table and started to mix. Her mind wandered as she thought about the events of the last two days. She just couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she was being pulled back into this bullshit again. What was this Beck guy thinking? Did he honestly believe that she was going to cooperate? Did he know nothing about this world? Sure, she’d testified before, but purely for survival. She had no choice. She was facing a hell of a lot more than three years. If she had stayed out, she’d be dead. Weirdly, jail afforded her the best protection she had at the time.
Luther’s men had reach, no doubt that his arm was long, but it didn't seem to extend to the women's correctional facility in Sacramento. Either that or they really hadn’t believed that she’d turned. She had to believe that was the case. Because if there was any lingering doubt about her loyalty, she’d never be safe.
A noise startled her from the front of the restaurant. She dropped the spatula on the floor and cursed. She picked it up and tossed it in the sink, and wiped her hands on her jeans.
“Melanie, everything ok?” Nina said.
Melanie popped her head out from the dry storage.
“Wasn’t me. I’m counting condiments.”
Nina’s spine tingled. “Stay here,” she said as she walked out to the front of the restaurant to investigate.
She caught the vague image of someone in the doorway. “Sorry, we’re closed for the night. We reopen at eight tomorrow morning,” she said. Then she stopped short when she took him in fully.
A well-dressed man, broad shoulders, tall. He wore a face mask. Nobody with innocent intentions in the history of the world ever wore a face mask. Nina braced herself. Was he here to kill her? To rob her? Or worse. Yes, there are worse things than death.
The masked man came toward her, slowly and menacing like the Terminator. On a mission. Nina stepped backward. Her heart sped up into a full cantor, her pulse pounded. Her fight or flight reaction went into overdrive. Quickly she did an assessment—identify the exits, potential weapons. There was a chef knife on the counter not too far behind her. If she moved slowly but swiftly, she could get there before he gained much traction. She prayed he didn't have a gun.
Quickly she ran back and then spun around to grab the chef knife from the counter. She spun back around and pointed it at the intruder.
The slit of his mouth in the face mask spread into a maniacal smile. Crooked teeth shone out from the black canvas.
“Who the fuck are you? What do you want?” Nina said, holding the knife against her chest.
For a moment, he said nothing. He moved toward her, knocking things off tables as he went. Slow, deliberate.
“It's not important who I am. But I think it's important that you remember who you are,” he finally said, his voice like the notes were run through sandpaper.
“What the hell does that mean?” Nina said.
The man laughed. “I think you better remember where your loyalties lie.”
Her blood froze. He was from the organization, he had to be.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything,” Nina said. With every step he took, she inched backward.
“Yeah, that's the story,” he said.
“I served my time, just like everyone else. I didn't turn.”
“Didn't you? Seems like you got off awfully light considering the severity of the crimes.”
Nina’s throat burned as bile crept up her esophagus.
“The police didn’t have enough evidence against me. That's not my fault! I got out early for good behavior. I can’t control what the others do. I didn’t turn!” Nina felt the hysteria swelling up inside her. No, this wasn’t happening. She was supposed to be done with this. They had to believe her. She didn’t want to die.
The man kept coming, slowly, knocking things off tables, glass and condiments shattering across the checkered floor.
“So maybe I believe you. What are you doing talking to the DEA now?” he said.
Nina swallowed hard, the saliva feeling like cooling cement. “I'm not talking to them. They keep coming to me, but I haven't said anything. I don't know anything.”
“What do they want from you?” He knocked over a pile of clean dishes on one of the tables, plates and dishes smashing down to the floor. He knocked over chairs, pushed over tables. Nina held the knife tightly.
“Nina?” Melanie came running out from the back, her bruised face eerily Gothic in its terror.
“Stay back, Melanie!” Nina called back. Melanie whimpered.
“Tell me, Nina,” the man said. “What do they want?”
“I don't know, they've got some kind of evidence against somebody, but they're not telling me anything. I know as much as you do.”
“And you know better than to tell them anything at all, right? I mean, Nina you're a smart girl. You know better than to even talk to them.”
“Of course I do. Now get the fuck out here!” Nina said.
“Or what? Maybe I'm hungry.”
“Too bad. We’re closed. Go to McDonald's.”
He laughed, dry, demoniac.
“I'm serious, I have a security alert system. All she has to do is press the button and the cops will be here in a minute,” Nina said.
The man cracked his knuckles. “Oh, Melanie there isn’t going to do anything. Besides, it never takes me more than a minute to do what I need to do.”
Panic was starting to cloud her judgment. She backed away slowly, doing an assessment of all the weapons in the restaurant. Could she fight him off? Could the two of them together?
She heard the faint roar of a motorcycle engine outside. Her heart pounded. Did this guy have backup?
A moment later the front bells rang but the door didn't open. The door had been locked. Graham was outside. He peered in and seeing the scene, began shaking the door furiously. The intruder snapped around and glared hard at the door.
Nina screamed out, “Beck!”
A moment later, glass shattered as Beck broke through the front window and unlatched the door. He burst through, his gun raised and pointed at the man in the mask. The intruder snapped back and glared at Nina.
“You gonna regret calling the cops,” he said.
“I'm not the cops,” Beck said. “Just a concerned citizen who doesn't like it when ugly old men pick on nice young women.”
Beck cocked his gun and raised it higher.
The intruder put up his hands melodramatically. “I have no quarrel with you, good sir.”
Beck and the intruder circled each other, moving into the room in a delicate dance of circular steps.
In a flash, the intruder picked up a pint glass and hurled it to the ground. The shattering glass pierced Nina’s ears. Melanie shrieked.
The diversion was enough for him to leap forward, sidestepping Beck and dashing out the open front door.
Beck moved to go after him but Nina stopped him.
“Beck, don’t! Just let him go.”
“Are you kidding me?” Beck said.
“Yes, just let him go,” she said, her breath heavy and ragged as the adrenaline thrummed in her chest.
Beck lowered his gun and scrambled over to the door. He shut it and locked it, futilely since the window was broken.
Nina sank back against the counter and exhaled, the threat of tears choking up her throat. Her stomach turned over.
Beck rushed over to her before she realized what he was about to do, he’d pulled her into a tight hug. She stiffened, but then relented to his comforting embrace.
“Jesus Christ are you okay?” Beck said.
Nina choked a few times and nodded. “Yes, I'm fine, just shaken.”
“Nina!” Melanie ran over and joined them.
Beck looked Mela
nie over curiously, no doubt instantly observing her beaten face.
“Melanie, this is Be—Agent Graham. Graham, Melanie,” Nina said.
“Agent?” Melanie said, extending her hand to him.
“Nice to meet you,” his words were tentative. Beck pulled away and looked to Nina directly. “Who was that guy?”
“Yeah, Nina. What the hell?” Melanie echoed.
Nina shook her head. “A robber, probably.”
Beck narrowed his eyes incredulously.
Nina let out a relenting sigh. “I don't know. But I can guess.”
Beck pulled away and assessed the damage to the restaurant. “You should've let me arrest him on vandalism. There's a lot of damage here.”
“It's fine, it's just a bunch of broken plates,” Nina said, scanning the room.
Nina was on the verge of tears as she started to pick up the broken pieces of plates and glass from the floor. Beck knelt beside her.
“Here, let me do that,” he said.
“I’ll get the broom,” Melanie said and dipped into the back.
Nina choked back a sob and leaned back on her heels.
Beck grabbed her hand. “Hey, it's okay. He's gone. It's gonna be all right.”
Nina looked up and glared at him. “No, it's not going to be fucking all right. You have no idea what you've got me into here.”
Nina stood and turned away from Beck’s heavy gaze. She wiped the swelling tears from her eyes. She hated herself for showing weakness, but the terror and frustration were mounting to unbearable levels.
Beck stood and came up behind her. He set a hesitant hand on her shoulder. She winced but didn’t pull away. She turned to face him, her cheeks still burning with embarrassment and rage. Then unexpectedly, he pulled her close.
He whispered softly, “Hey, calm down. It's going to be all right. We can keep you safe.”
Nina shoved him away. “No one can keep me safe.”
“What is it that you're going to do then? You going to run away?”
Nina laughed, the sound sharp in her throat. “No, I'm not going to run away. Because there's nowhere that I can go. They already think I've turned. So I might as well.”
The Redemption Lie Page 7
