The second Den removes his foot from the doorway, Fritch grunts and slams the door in our faces.
Once we drive away from Tommy’s apartment, I give Den another address. “Please have the driver take us here. It’s on the way and should only take a few minutes.”
Den shakes his head. “We’ve delayed enough. We’re going straight to Blake Towers.”
“Have you ever had something you needed to do?” I say to Den. He unlocks his gaze from the driver’s in the rearview mirror to look at me. “Something you’ve avoided because it was too painful?”
When sadness briefly scrolls across his features, I say softly just for his ears, “This is my ‘thing’, Den.”
He slowly nods, then tells the driver to head to the address I gave him.
Once we arrive at the address, Den steps out of the car to allow me to exit. I put my hand on his chest when he starts to follow. “Stay here. I’m not going inside.”
He glances around the sketchy neighborhood and his gaze zeros in on a couple of teens tagging a car parked on top of the curb further down the street. “Not a good idea, Miss Lone.”
Light drizzle pings my face, the chill reaching all the way to my bones. Or maybe it’s just being here that makes me feel cold and numb. I told myself I would never return after the explosion put a huge hole in our apartment, yet here I am, quaking on the inside. I hold myself perfectly still as I look at Den’s towering height. I’m pretty sure he has a couple inches on Sebastian. Clenching my teeth to keep them from chattering, I finally speak as I point to the alley beside the drab building. “I’ll be fine. I’m just going there.”
He scowls, a displeased look forming on his sharply defined features. “Alleys are unacceptable.”
I shrug and wrap my arms around myself so I won’t visibly shiver. “Check it out if you must.”
He grunts, then shrugs out of his jacket. Before I can say anything, he drops the suit coat over my shoulders. “Put this on then to keep you warm.”
His suit jacket is so big it hits midway down my thighs and the sleeves cover my fingers. Even though his shoulder harness and gun are now completely exposed, I can’t help but smile a little as I follow behind him while he walks ahead of me to check the alley. A gentleman with a gun. Obviously Mr. Blake hires more than muscle.
After he’s certain the space is empty, Den moves to the top of the alley and refuses by a terse jerk of his head to leave me alone all together. My heart races as I walk over a shredded bike wheel, a baby doll head with its hair lopped off, and a garbage can’s worth of trash strewn about, my gaze scanning for the one place on the brick wall I’m looking for. It takes me a few minutes, since someone had moved the Dumpster from its old place against the opposite wall, but just past the Dumpster I find it.
A place on the wall where the brick looks slightly off.
The Dumpster blocks me from Den’s view as I hold my breath and pull the loose brick out. Reaching inside the hole, my fingers scrape for something I’d hidden in the spot over eleven years ago. I quickly pull it out, bittersweet relief flooding through me.
Hunching my shoulders to protect the crisp paper from the light rain, I open the paper and remember the last time I spoke to my little sister, Amelia.
“Draw with me, Talia,” she demands, dropping her little hands on her hips like she’s seen me do a million times.
I sigh and set my math book on the table. “I can’t Amelia. I have to study. I have a test coming up.”
“Pleeeeeze,” she begs. And just for effect she tilts her blond head to the side and pouts.
I can’t help but laugh at her curls flopping to one side of her head with her exaggerated movements. She really is very cherubic and adorable when she wants to be.
“Okay, fine. But this time. I get to pick what we draw.”
“Uh.” Amelia folds her arms, totally not okay with that suggestion.
I grin. “Go get your markers and a piece of paper. You’ll like this one.”
Squealing, she retrieves the requested items, then quickly climbs into my lap at the kitchen table. “Draw something magical, like a unicorn.”
When I start to write out her name across the paper in black ink, she quickly interrupts. “That’s not magical. That’s just my name.”
Snickering, I nod. She can’t read, but knows the alphabet and now recognizes her name. “I know, but you have to watch for the magic.”
She bobs her head, wiggling on my thighs.
Then I write my name under hers. “This is how my name is spelled. Talia. Do you see the magic yet?”
Amelia looks up at me, her eyes bright. She shakes her head, but she’s totally trusting I’m going to deliver on my promise.
I put down the black marker and pick up the red one, then draw a heart around the last three letters in our names. “Do you see it now?”
Her eyes light up like it’s Christmas and she claps her hands. “Our names have the same letters!”
“Yep,” I chuckle and then write, “The 2 Lias!” across the top of the page.
Giggling in delight, Amelia picks up the hot pink magic marker and thrusts her tongue past her lips as she attempts to trace her heart around the outside of the heart I’ve drawn. Hers is jagged and shaky and looks more like an oval than a heart, but she’s proud by the time she’s done, announcing excitedly, “Two Lias, two hearts.”
I smile, thinking about the two floating hearts on my necklace. One for me and one for her when she gets older. “Yep, two Lias, two hearts. How’d you get so smart?”
Giving my neck a big squeeze, she says, “You,” then jumps down and runs off toward her room, her new artwork floating behind her like a kite.
My heart clenching, I tuck the paper into my purse, then continue toward the end of the alley. With each step I take, the years strip the confidence I’d gained, slowly cracking and peeling it away, like a chameleon’s skin sloughing off.
I finally reach the back corner of the building and stare up at the fire escape.
Throughout my young years I saw that metal platform as a way out of my world. All I had to do was climb down its ladder to freedom. “I was so naïve,” I murmur.
Thoughts of the night I fled, the night Amelia died, rush back. While we were together in Martha’s Vineyard, I told Sebastian what Hayes did to me, but I didn’t tell him everything…
Walt had been locked in the adjoining apartment with Hayes and Jimmy for hours, which was fine by me. I needed quiet time to study for my math test, so after I drew the “2 Lias” picture for Amelia, I settled her on the couch with her favorite doll in front of the TV and turned on the one program I knew would keep her enthralled until it ended.
Fifteen minutes into my study time, Walt stumbles into the small kitchen and sits down in one of the extra chairs we have pushed against the sidewall a few feet away from the table. We only pull it up to the table when we’re all eating at once.
“Make me some eggs and toast, Talia,” he slurs, his eyes half-mast.
I’m ticked. It’s the first time I’ve seen him coming down from a high right in front of me. In the past he at least tried to hide it. I heard him being hyperactive earlier, laughing and talking extra loud next door. I knew that he had started using the Ecstasy he helps Hayes package, but he’s taking more now. I can tell by the crazy hours he’s keeping, the excessive sweating, and sudden bouts of extreme exhaustion. How he’s hidden his habit from my aunt is beyond me. I really hate that she’s pulling a double shift and won’t be home for several hours. Does that mean she’s making enough money now that we can leave? A part of me thinks Walt might actually be relieved if we took Amelia with us, that he’d never even notice she was gone or bother to report her missing. No way I’m leaving without her. At least Amelia’s occupied in the other room and won’t see him like this. “Why don’t you go sleep it off,” I say in a low, sarcastic tone.
“I said for you to cook me something,” he grates, waving his arm.
Maybe if I cook him so
me food, he’ll decide to take a nap. I get up and by the time I set the pan on the stove, he’s slumped over in the chair snoring.
Ugh! Rolling my eyes, I sit back down at the table and try to focus on my math once more.
I’m so focused on my homework that I don’t hear Hayes step through the door connecting our apartments until his hot breath rushes across my neck.
“What are you working on, Talia?” Before I can respond, he straightens and kicks Walt’s outstretched foot, and when Walt slumps over even more in the chair, he lets out a low laugh.
I tense when he turns back to me and bends over my shoulder, his closeness and creepy voice sending a shiver of revulsion down my spine. Heart racing, I glance at Walt, then snap, “I’m trying to concentrate and you’re not helping.”
Hayes’ hand lands on my notebook, covering it completely as he leans over me. “How about you concentrate on me for once.”
He smells of smoke and beer. I want to hold my breath, but panic mode overrules. “Walt…” I call out in a warning voice.
Hayes is blocking me in, and at this point with Walt not responding, I’m just done. “I’ll study somewhere else,” I say in a snotty tone. Slamming my book closed with an annoyed huff, I stand, then push the chair hard under the table.
Before I can pick up my book, Hayes grabs my arm and yanks it behind my back. Hooking his other hand on the crook of my neck, he shoves me over the back of the chair and presses my cheek against the table.
“After today, you’re never going to talk to me like that again,” he grates in my ear. Releasing my neck, he twists my wrist even more. His tone is hard and angry, his actions the most violent he’s ever been toward me.
As soon as I hear him yanking at his belt buckle and then the zipper of his pants coming undone, I call Walt’s name again. I stare at his slack face, hoping the panic in my voice will rouse him. I don’t care about Hayes’ earlier threats concerning Walt’s future. All I care about is what’s happening right here and now.
“Shut up if you don’t want the brat wandering in here,” Hayes says, his breathing changing to ragged pants.
I’d forgotten about Amelia in my haze of fear. His comment is sobering, and it takes everything inside me not to scream as he grabs my other hand and yanks it behind my back too. When he folds my fingers around his erection, disgust rolls through me. He lets out a deep groan and grinds his hips against my butt.
Bile rises in my throat and I gag. I try to pull my hand free of him, but his fingers are locked around mine, holding his cock in a vise hold. “Don’t you dare let go,” he warns, as he rolls his hips and moans deeper.
All I can do is lay there as the bastard uses my hand to jerk himself off along the back of my jeans while Walt sits right there next to us, completely oblivious. When he’s done, he smacks my ass, then rubs his cum along my jean-covered butt and then down between my legs. Grabbing my crotch, he fists his other hand around my pinned-up bun and yanks hard as he leans over to pant in my ear, anticipation in his satisfied tone. “You’re going to be the best fuck. I can’t wait to have you.”
Hayes casually walks over to the sink and washes his cum off his hands before he strolls past me, saying, “I’ll be back later. Better be on your best behavior, Talia.”
As soon as he walks out, I clench my jaw and swallow the words I want to scream in Walt’s ear. He wouldn’t hear them right now anyway. Silent tears stain my cheeks as I race upstairs and strip out of my clothes, stuffing them in an old grocery store bag I find in the corner of my room. Tomorrow I’ll burn the whole thing in the alley and let ashes take my prayers up. Maybe someone will hear. I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone, especially not my aunt.
I can’t get in the shower fast enough or make the water hot enough. I use the entire bottle of liquid soap and scrub my skin raw, trying to wash away the disgusting memory. I want to stay in the shower forever, but I can’t leave Amelia alone much longer. Her show is almost over.
Choking back a sob, I dry my hair, braid and re-pin it, then step into clean clothes and tiptoe back downstairs. Once I sit down at the table like I’d been before, I kick the hell out of Walt’s foot, which sends him flying off the chair and onto the cheap linoleum floor.
“What the fuck?” he roars, jerking upright with his fists clenched.
“You fell asleep,” I say tightly, flipping my pencil toward the chair he’d been passed out on.
Rolling to his feet, he stumbles a little as he straightens, then directs his annoyance at me, his tone accusatory. “My foot hurts, like I was kicked.”
I shrug and look down at my book, my tone snarky to cover the raging anger inside. “Probably slept on it wrong. You’re the one who passed out on a chair.”
“Watch your mouth,” he snaps. Glancing around, he looks at the stove. “What happened to my eggs and toast?”
“You fell asleep.” You failed ME.
“Daddy!” Amelia squeals and comes running into the kitchen, the picture I’d drawn earlier clutched in her hand. “Look what Talia drew. Two Lias! Does your name have those letters too?”
Walt winces and puts his hands to his head. I narrow my gaze and hope it hurts like hell, but the last thing I expect is for him to sweep his hand out and shove Amelia back, growling, “Quit that shrieking.”
As soon as I see Amelia stumble and lose her footing, I jump up to catch her, but I’m not fast enough. She slips past my fingers and hits the side of her head on the table on her way down.
“You’re such an asshole!” I yell at Walt as I bend over Amelia crumpled on the floor, my stomach knotting at the bit of blood I’d seen on the table. When I tilt her chin, I see she’s split her head open. “Are you okay, Amelia? Talk to me.” But she doesn’t flutter her eyes or move at all.
“Is-is she okay?” Walt says from behind me, his voice a bit panicky. “You know I didn’t mean to hurt her. It was an accident.”
Warm blood coats my hand as I touch her head and then her cheek, trying to wake her up. “Amelia, you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” I say and wonder how fast an ambulance can get to our apartment. But the second I touch her chest, and realize it’s not moving up and down, my own breathing halts. My hands shake as I quickly check for a pulse at her throat. Nothing. A wail escapes my lips and my burning lungs finally force me to breathe, but my heart starts to crumble as everything inside me goes numb.
I slowly stand, tingling everywhere at once. I feel like I’m in a slow-moving nightmare. Clenching my hands by my sides, I hammer a fist against my thigh to wake myself up, but all I feel is pain. I turn to Walt and spew my anger. “She’s not breathing!”
“No.” He shakes his head back and forth, his eyes wide as he falls to his knees beside Amelia. “It was an accident. You saw.”
“We need to call an ambulance. Maybe there is something they can do.” I’m shocked by my calm tone, when all I want to do is scream and cry until my throat is raw. I know in my heart that she’s gone. That she’s never going to wake up and smile at me again.
“Not yet.” Walt jerks his gaze to me, and when I realize that I see fear in his eyes and not remorse, unimaginable fury whips inside me. While Walt leans over Amelia and fruitlessly tries to shake her awake, I run into the room next door and grab one of the two plastic containers of Ecstasy sitting on the counter, waiting to be packaged. It’s the largest supply I’d ever seen and the sight of it sickens me.
Returning to the kitchen, I shut the door and scream at Walt as I dump the whole container over his head. “She’s dead. All because you got mixed up with this stuff!”
“What the fuck have you done?” Walt rails, his face turning bright red. Rage engulfs his entire body. He tries to stand, but the pills slide under his feet, making him trip and fall back to his knees.
As he growls his anger, I yell at him, too angry to be fearful. “You’re so weak! You were supposed to cherish and protect her. You promised to protect us,” I finish in a lower hiss.
“Protect you? You little bi
tch. I don’t even think I can protect you now. Do you have any idea how much money you just destroyed?” He huffs out at the same time he grabs the edge of the table.
“Like you ever protected me. And now I’ve just lost my sister because of these stupid drugs. When the police test your blood, at least someone will finally know the truth and—” My voice cracks but I force myself to continue. “At least Amelia’s death won’t have been for nothing.”
Shaking with fury, Walt slits his gaze, his voice low and deadly. “You’re going to help me clean all this shit up and get rid of it. And then we’ll tell the police that Amelia getting hurt was an accident…which it was.”
I lift my chin higher. “I’m going to tell them to test your blood for drugs.”
When he takes an unsteady step toward me, his foot sliding on the pills, the murderous anger in his eyes finally registers in my brain. I quickly run to the desk in the hallway where I saw him hide a handgun for protection not long after he started working with Hayes.
Grabbing the gun, I hold it up as he approaches, my hands shaking. “Don’t come anywhere near me.”
“You’re not going to shoot me. You’re the one who’s weak,” he sneers. “You’ll do as I say and tell the police what I want you to. Not one thing more! And…then—” he glances around frantically before his gaze snaps back to me, full of clarity. “We’ll kick open the other apartment door, and I’ll tell Hayes someone broke in and got away with half the drugs before I could stop them.”
“Don’t you even care that she’s gone?” My voice quivers as tears blur my vision. I angrily blink them away and tighten my grip on the gun.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Amelia.” He tenses for all of a second, then hardens his jaw, refusing to look down at his daughter. “We’re all dead unless I fix this. Now give me that goddamn gun.”
The moment he lunges and grabs my hands, the gun goes off.
I watch in horror as Walt stumbles back, then falls to his knees, his hands gripping his chest, blood oozing past his fingers from the gaping wound.
Blackest Red Page 6
