Runner

by A. J. Summer

  “No!” I hear a different voice in the background followed by something that sounds like Mike grunting. “Wait, Mike?” I ask, hoping they don’t kill them. Daniel Migelli phoned for a reason. “Listen here, you fucker, if you hurt my friends, I will find you. I will fuckin’ rip your throat out,” I hiss into the phone, still very aware of Parker, who has moved closer to me.

  “Ah, Mr. Runner, so heroic. Your friend forgot to tell you, he killed a man this morning. Rammed his car into that of a nice employee from Ray’s garage. Perhaps you know him?”

  “Fuck you, liar!” I hear Mike shouting again. But it doesn’t matter. There are only three guys working for Ray’s, and one of them is Jase. I almost end the call, ready to go looking for my sister, but Daniel speaks again. “You can meet me at Warehouse 9, if you want your friends to live.” And then the line goes dead.

  I drop my phone and press my palms into my eyes. The boys have been by my side through countless shit, but Mia is family. She’s the reason all this started. Daniel could kill me if I walk into that club, then Mia will be an open target. And right now I don’t even know if Daniel knows about Mia. I take a deep breath and force my brain to think. Daniel wants something from me. He knew I would be here if Reno died. Now the tricky part is to find out what he wants.

  “Are you okay?” Parker asks from in front of me. Stupid question. Can’t this guy just fuck off? Fuck no, I’m not okay. I take my palms away from my eyes and squint at the early morning rays peeking through the heavy curtain. “I will be,” I say as I get up and pull my gun from Reno’s drawer. I check the clip and take the safety off. Then I walk straight past Xavier Parker with his stricken face, and I feel sorry for the poor son of a bitch. I doubt he had a clue what kind of businessman his dad really was.

  Emily comes out of the kitchen and wipes her hands on her apron. Her friendly smile fades from her face when she sees the gun in my hand. She clutches the white apron in front of her chest so hard her knuckles drain of all color. “No, please, don’t go,” she says, shuffling forward as quick as her old legs can carry her. I doubt she knows where I’m going, but she knows it’s not good. I give her a tight-lipped smile and walk out into the welcoming sunshine.

  The drive to Warehouse 9 isn’t a long one. It’s a club on the main street of town, and seeing as everybody is going to work, the road is busy.

  I dig in the glove box of the Reno’s Lexus, looking for something, anything, to hide my identity, and I find a pair of aviator sunglasses. I slip them on, not caring who they belong to. An ambulance rushes past me on Fifth Street followed by a police van, and I know it’s not for my friends, because if Daniel killed them, no one will ever know. Maybe it’s the accident Daniel spoke of? The thought enters my mind just as I turn into the parking lot for Warehouse 9. I can’t think about that now. If I want to get the boys out, I need to focus on that piece of shit locked inside this building. I walk up to the front entrance, and I don’t bother knocking, they know I’m coming.

  I twist the handle and push the door open. All the lights are on. There are still empty bottles and half-filled drinks standing on the tables and counter. Daniel steps out from the side of the bar and holds out his hand. I follow the direction in which he is indicating and see Mike and Jonah sitting at one of the corner tables. I hear soft whimpers, but it’s not coming from one of them. I look around the room, but I can’t see anybody else. Fear rises from my stomach and crawls slowly up to my heart, making it beat just a little bit faster. Cold sweat dots my neck. I hate surprises.

  I look back at the boys, and both of them are looking at me. Mike shakes his head then drops his eyes. Disappointment, he didn’t want me to come. I knew this was a trap, but what could I do? Let my friends die? Not an option. Daniel Migelli stands silently in the corner watching me while I’m watching everyone else. He looks so much like his son, minus the bullet hole, of course. But I’m sure that can be arranged if he doesn’t let us go. This damn gun is making me be all brave and shit again. I’m not a coward. I’m a realist. Things don’t always have to end in bloodshed.

  There are two other guys in the room, normal-looking guys. Average Joes. Not like the gorillas Danny Migelli used to walk around with. Still, Daniel Migelli says nothing while I silently take stock of my surroundings. More whimpers. I turn my head, searching for the source of the sound.

  The booth behind Mike and Jonah is hidden from my view. There’s another whimper, and this time I know it’s a girl. Mike squeezes his eyes shut, like he is in pain. Or maybe it’s regret? Whatever it is, it’s eating at him. I take a step toward the direction of the whimpers, but the sound of a gun being cocked stops me. I look at the guy on my left with his gun trained at my head. I smile at him, daring him to do it. I’m already high on my rush. I was bred for this. I’m not the same scared little boy that Reno sent to kill Danny Migelli. The danger messes with my head, turns my blood to quicksilver, and reminds me I’m un-fucking-breakable. I walk toward the booth; Daniel Migelli’s man is chicken-shit or he would’ve shot me on my first step.

  I walk past Mike and Jonah and notice how torn up they look. Jonah’s got a puddle of blood next to his right foot, and his jeans are soaked a deep red. Mike only has a few facial injuries, and I suspect that was from Thug One and Two. For some reason, Mike always gets the beatings.

  A head of blonde hair is the first thing I see when I walk up to the back booth. I don’t feel bad for being relieved that it’s Ana and not Mia. My sister has a head of wild black and red stripes at the moment. I think I knew my sister wasn’t in this building the minute I stepped into it.

  Ana lays face down and curled up into a little ball on the couch of the booth. I sink down to my knees and wipe her hair out of her face. Her cheeks are wet with tears, and she flinches at my touch, but then she sees it’s me and takes a deep breath. She says my name, her bottom lip quivers, and her eyes dart to the back of the room. A pair of legs covered in black boots and jeans are lying on the floor. Damn it! I know who those legs belong to. I rise on my feet and run toward Talon. Her one eye is swollen shut, and her shirt is torn to expose her black lace bra underneath. She’s breathing shallowly, and she’s definitely not conscious. Rage boils inside my veins and fuels my anger. That bullet hole is looking pretty good right now.

  I lift Talon into my arms. Daniel’s man still has his gun pointed at my head, but I don’t give a fuck. Fuckers hit a girl. A friend of mine. I’m going to fuckin’ tear them apart. Limb by limb until they are all bloody and messy and dead on the floor. But I’m also afraid. Faint panic tickles at my skin. I want to know what they did to her. I lower Talon down on the couch opposite Ana and turn her head to the side. “Watch her,” I say to Ana gruffly. Then I walk straight up to Daniel and get in his face.

  “You wanted me, here I am,” I say with a deathly calm. I’m going to kill this son of bitch. I should’ve wiped out his whole bloodline the night I killed Danny Migelli. I realize now that as long as any of these assholes are alive I’ll never be free.

  “Mr. Runner, always so hostile. I thought my brother turned you into a businessman, but now it seems you’re nothing but a juvenile thug.” Daniel Migelli seems almost bored as he is talking to me. I clench my fist and bite down on my teeth, hard. I step closer to him, my heavy breath fanning the hair on his head. He has tiny silver hairs in his eyebrows, and those eyebrows rise up when another gun is cocked to my other side. I relax and take a step back. I’m still not bullet proof.

  “Sit down, and we can discuss your predicament,” Daniel says.

  I follow Daniel Migelli to a table in the center of the room. I’ve got two guns ready to pump me full of bullets, so I can only listen as another choice is made for me.

  “You and your friends are free to go. I never meant to harm them. I saved them from being arrested this morning. Culpable homicide is punishable by jail time. That’s an eight-year-long visit at Mount Max,” Daniel Migelli says. I look back at Jonah and Mike because I don’t know what Daniel is talking about, an
d he stops talking until I turn back to him.

  “When your friends picked up the ladies this morning, my guys were waiting for them at the apartment after following the ladies home from their party last night. My men were not to harm them, simply escort them to me. But your friends had other ideas. I believe the accident they were involved in a few hours ago killed a mechanic from Ray’s garage,” Daniel says.

  A different kind of fear strangles my heart at the mention of the accident and the garage. He keeps mentioning the accident, but I doubt he knows that I know Jase, or that he is involved with my sister. Daniel could also be lying about the whole thing, but when I look at Mike, I know it’s true. If Jase is dead, I killed him, and then I might as well have killed my own sister. Mia won’t survive that kind of loss.

  I don’t know what Daniel said after that, but I do know that Talon woke up groggy and swearing. That girl has a filthy little mouth. Jonah is pale and weak and has some back-alley stitch-up job on his knee. Mike said he got hurt in the crash. Daniel Migelli was right, he did save my friends, and he will keep them out of jail. No one will ever know that my guys or Ana and Talon were in the car that caused the accident. But as with everything else in this clusterfuck of a life, it comes with a price. A favor for a favor. A debt that needs to be paid. It turns out Daniel doesn’t know who I am, not yet. He said he just wanted to ask the boys if Reno’s son was home yet. Daniel Migelli is either a damn good actor or he is just plain old stupid. Either way, I feel sorry for Xavier Parker; Daniel Migelli is a dangerous man to have interested in your affairs.

  I phone Emily to let her know that I’m on my way back and to send Stephan to help me get Jonah and Talon upstairs. Jonah has stopped bleeding, but the blood loss has left him weak, and even though he tries to walk on his own, he just can’t do it. He’ll be out of action for a while. I can only imagine how much that is going to screw with his head. Jonah needs to keep moving to stay sane. On our way out of Warehouse 9, Ana told me that Daniel Migelli’s man jabbed a syringe into Talon’s neck to sedate her after she tore his face up. I felt a sick sense of pride when I saw the red broken flesh on Thug One’s cheek as he escorted us out of Warehouse 9. Talon is a real little ass-kicker.

  Talon is still pretty much out of it and drifts in and out of la-la land. I’ve taken my shirt off and put it on her, not wanting to put her through anymore shit on my account. I’ve just put her down in my bed when I’m confronted by a confused-looking Parker.

  “What is this?”

  Immediately, his tone sets my teeth on edge. “This,” I say, spinning around with my arms open, “is your life. This is paradise. Get use to it,” I grind out between clenched teeth.

  I close my room door and go look for Mike. I’m not sure how much longer I can stand my “new brother,” without putting my fist through his always-asking-questions mouth.

  TALON

  The last thing I remember was fighting one of the guys who dragged us into Warehouse 9. He thought I was just going to let him push me around like that? Think again, sucker! The look on his face was priceless, shock and disbelief while I clawed at his face. But I suppose I knew it was useless. I still had to try. A sharp pinch in my neck and then blissful calm, followed by the darkest night.

  When my tranqed-out brain finally comes around, the first face I see is Runner’s. He looks so very young still, his boyish face lightened by the early morning rays, with just a hint of stubble on his jaw. Beautiful. He really is beautiful. My tortured hero with the world on his shoulders.

  I must’ve dozed off, because when I wake up again, my head is bopping lightly on Runner’s shoulder. His skin is warm and smooth on my cheek, and I nestle my face deeper into his neck, closer to the comforting, yet sexy, smell of him. Runner’s smell has an edge to it—sexy, comforting, dangerous, and so very alluring. My drowsy head swims in want. I want all of it, his hard edge, his soft comfort, his dangerous possession.

  The head-bopping continues, and the haze finally fades enough for me to see where I am. Runner is carrying me up some stairs at a place that’s sending all my red flags flying. But my mind is still too groggy, and I can’t pinpoint why I shouldn’t be here. Runner lays me down on the bed, and I can feel him staring at my face. I know my lip is broken because I can feel the slit on the inside with my tongue. I keep my eyes closed until I hear him move away from the bed. He stops at the door and another guy asks him.

  “What is this?”

  “This is your life. Welcome to paradise. Get use to it,” Runner answers him, sounding a little manic. Then he closes the door and all sound is cut off. The guy Runner was talking to looked kind of pissed off. Why are all these dangerous people so damn good looking? And I don’t even really like blonds. I pull Runner’s T-shirt up to my nose and close my eyes. It smells just like him. Just like he did when I snuggled my face into his neck earlier, just like that night when he banged me on the car and left me there. I don’t know what the deal is with him and those guys, but he got us out and he covered me with his shirt. He carried me up the stairs, holding me gently but firmly. And the way he was cradling me to his chest? Like I was something precious. Runner acts all tough and careless, but deep down I know he has a heart worth loving.

  I know I must be dreaming the second I see his face. People like him only exist in my nightmares. Only in my nightmares, I’m helpless:

  “Hi, Demitri, what’s up? I asked, sitting down next to him on the garden bench. My mouth was still on fire from the mouthwash I used to clean Devrin’s taste off my tongue. My tongue felt thick and my taste buds were on fire after the vicious scrubbing I gave it.

  Demitri just stared out in front of him. He always stayed out here, delaying the inevitable of finally returning indoors. I nudged him playfully with my elbow when he didn’t answer me. Still nothing. Demitri didn’t answer me, he just kept staring straight ahead. I started getting an ache in my stomach. Something was wrong.

  “Come with me,” Demetri said. His voice was harsh, and he didn’t look at me when he pulled roughly on my hand. I followed him in silence with my heart pounding loudly in my chest. He took a last look around before pulling us into the shed.

  “On your knees,” he barked. “What?” I asked. I didn’t want to believe what was happening. “Get on your knees,” he said, loosening his belt and pulling down his zipper. My legs started to feel weak. Fear and disbelief finally set in. I just couldn’t believe this was happening. Demitri wasn’t like them. He held my hand when I was sad. Promised me the three of us would find a way out of here together. Him, me and Christina. He grabbed my hair roughly and pushed me down. He couldn’t even look at me.

  “Open your mouth,” he said with a tug on my hair. I shook my head, and tears sprung up in my eyes. “You could do it for him. Damn it, Talonia! How could you let him do that to you? I thought you loved me!” Demitri whispered fiercely into the empty shed. “I didn’t,” I tried to explain, but he wouldn’t let me finish. Instead, he struck me across my face, the sting making the tears fall onto the dusty floor with a soundless splatter.

  I wake up to a darkened room with a throb in my skull rivaling the worse hangover ever. My breathing is slightly heavier than normal, but that’s always the case after a Demitri dream. The heartache is the worse. The pain of losing a friend to the dark side. I don’t dry the single tear on my cheek. I can feel the salty sting on my cheek. I need it to remind me that Demitri isn’t my friend anymore. He is partly to blame for me being in this mess in the first place!

  I sit up and my head swims. I must’ve slept through the whole day. But Mother Nature calls, and she’s not whispering subtly for me to find the bathroom, she’s screaming at me to move my ass. I can’t stay here after that dream anyway. I need real people around me, not monsters lurking in my nightmares. I look around for a door that might lead to a bathroom. I find one on the other side of the room. Great. I stand up slowly, testing my floppy, wet-noodle legs, and when I’m sure I’m not about to fall over and do any more damage to my already
abused face, I walk in that direction.

  The bathroom is all shiny chrome and white. It screams “I have money and I’m not afraid to show it.” For a minute, I envy the big claw-footed bath, and I briefly consider soaking in it. It reminds me so much of the one Mama had back home. Damn nightmare, just brought the dead back to life. Besides I don’t think my sleepy body is up for a soak just yet. Maybe after I move around a bit and have some coffee. The caffeine might kick my drowsy butt into gear. I don’t know whose house this is, but they are obviously rich. I do my business and walk over to wash my hands. I catch my reflection in the mirror and cringe at the hideous ogre hair on my head. It looks like a red baby orangutan inhabits my outer skull. I dig around in my pockets and pull out my emergency hair tie. I tame my hair as best I can by running my fingers through it and tie it in a high ponytail. I wash my face, careful to avoid my fat bottom lip.

  The room is still empty when I get back out of the bathroom, so I decide to go look for Ana or Runner or anyone I know for that matter. And to get that coffee. I run my fingers along the gleaming cherry oak lining the passage walls. It’s smooth and looks so warm, lending a homey feel to the otherwise expensive and cold-looking place. I feel almost out of place in all the opulence and splendor with Runner’s oversized shirt and my skinny jeans. I’m not even wearing shoes. But I should be used to this. Mama liked the finer things in life, and our home was every bit the same as this one, but ours was warm, filled with love. A family home. This place just seems…empty.

  The long passage finally opens up into a big living room, and it’s so quiet I wonder if anybody else is here except for me. And then it hits me. My shoulders start to shake so bad, I can’t pull myself up again. I know where I am. I can’t be here! Shit, this is Reno Parker’s house. I flatten myself against the wall and take a deep breath while squeezing my eyes shut. I’m too afraid if I open them I might see his ghost. No. Get it together, Talon. Deep breaths, in and out. What if someone finds me freaking out like this? How will I explain myself? I shake my head slightly, just enough to get out of my freak out and back into reality. Deep breaths, slowly, in and out. I’m okay.