by Piper Payne
I sat there nervously bouncing my knees, suspiciously watching everyone around me. Luckily no one tried to sit on the bench next to me, but I could tell it was going to be a crowded commute. I’d tried to not let my mind wander to all the things I could do with three million dollars. For a moment last night I thought about June and I running away again, buying a place somewhere no one could find us, away from snow, by the ocean, and live a simple carefree life. But I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. We had Max and Austin now. Careers. It seemed like our lives were finally becoming what we’d always envisioned, and the more I thought about someone screwing that up for us the angrier I became. I was going to fight for what we had. I wasn’t going to let anyone scare us off or take it away. I’ve run for too many years.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” An angry voice came walking towards me. I looked over and for a split second my heart fluttered but sank almost instantly when Jesse stopped in front of me, seething mad.
“What are you doing? Don’t you have a job and a car? Why the hell didn’t you ask me for a ride?” He was struggling to rein in his emotions, gritting his teeth and trying to breathe calmly through his nose; everyone around us had already stopped what they were doing to stare.
Great! Exactly what I wanted, to draw attention to myself! I quickly got up grabbing his elbow. “What is your problem? How did you even know I was here?” I tugged him away from prying ears until we were standing in a flutter of snow and passing cars. I wasn’t sure, but for a fleeting moment his cheeks flushed and I swore I saw a tiny bit of embarrassment.
“Answer my question, Larkin, what are you doing?” He crossed his arms stubbornly, I knew I wasn’t going anywhere until I answered him.
“I can’t tell you! And I promise you don’t want to know. I’m not going to burden your life with my problems. You’re already helping me out more that you could ever know. Now will you just let it be?”
“That’s not a good enough answer.” He grabbed the duffle bag out of my hands and started walking away.
“What are you doing?” I screamed, running after him. Up ahead I could see the train coming down the street. “I’m going to miss the train! Please! Please give it back to me!” I could barely keep up with him as he walked up the street and crossed the road. I was pleading and begging until I realized how ridiculous I looked. There was no way I was going to convince him. I looked back as the train passed by me. Ugh! Now I was going to be late for everything! I was so frustrated I was at the point of tears. I scurried behind him in silence until we walked up to his white ’65 Shelby Mustang GT-350 fastback. I think I almost drooled; Shelby hood scoop, black over the top hood, rocker stripes, and black leather seats.
“Get inside.” He opened up the passenger side door, leaning against the car waiting for me to comply.
“You’re fucking crazy!” I scoffed, folding my arms and shaking my head, not willing to budge, even though I most definitely wanted to jump inside. This is the ungirly side effect of hanging out with two guys that only educated and enhanced my love for vintage cars. I couldn’t believe he was driving this in the snow!
“You do remember I can pick you up and throw you in this car?” His words came out smug. I bet if I keyed his Mustang it would wipe the sexy smirk off of his face.
“Plus, you want your bag back, don’t you?” He dangled it in front of me like it weighed nothing at all. I gave up and sat in the passenger seat of the car. “See, that wasn’t very hard.” He threw the duffle bag into my lap almost knocking the wind out of me and slammed the door. Dick.
He hopped into his car and started the engine. It purred and vibrated underneath me. I had to tame down my excitement. If there wasn’t snow and ice on the roads, I would’ve egged him on to see how fast this thing could go.
“So … where to?” he asked nicely with a smile. His hot and cold attitude was giving me whiplash.
“Are you always this … this … frustrating?” He raised his brow, mocking me because I used the same words he yelled at me last night. I threw my head back against the seat and folded my arms again. “United Bank and Trust, off 3rd and State.”
He pulled out of the parking lot and we started driving there in silence. The confinement and heater blowing in the Mustang was hot boxing Jesse’s smell causing me to have flashbacks of last night. I looked over at him, but looked away embarrassed when he met my gaze.
“Because, my eyes are drawn to you. Even in a crowd you stand out like no other woman even exists.”
“What?” I asked softly.
“You asked how I knew you were there waiting for the train. I was waiting at the stop light, not even intentionally looking in your direction, and I spotted you. Even though I was at least fifty yards away I still knew it was you without a doubt in my mind.” He looked over at me and I knew my expression was a give-me-a-break look. He ran his hands over his face and then placed them back on the steering wheel. “You don’t even realize it, do you?” Luckily we pulled up to the bank so I didn’t have to reply.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said awkwardly, tucking a strand of hair behind my ears, reaching for the door handle.
“I’ll wait here until you’re done.” He put the car in park and shifted in his seat.
“Seriously, let’s not do this again. I might be there for an hour or more. Just go ahead and I’ll see you back at your place later.” I went to get out of the car but was tugged back when the strap of the duffle bag hooked underneath the seat of the car and popped open the zipper displaying the contents for Jesse to see.
His eyes widened as I hurried and tried to close the busted zipper. “Damn it!” I huffed as I hopped back into the car and shut the door. I couldn’t just run off without an explanation now that he’d seen that. “Shit! See this is what I was trying to avoid! If you would’ve just let me take the train—”
“Take the train? You have a bag full of money and you’re wanting to take a sketchy public transit system?” I could see his mind racing and before he threw me out of his car I needed him to understand. How I was going to do that I wasn’t sure. But I needed him to know I was handling it on my own, and to back off.
“Are you in trouble? Did you just rob another bank this morning? What the fuck is going on?”
“Ugh!” I balled my fists and shook them by my face. “Just be quiet for a second and I’ll explain!” Surprisingly, he listened. “I’m giving you one last chance to walk away and not be involved in this. I will say as much as I can say, and then I want you to drive away. Okay?” He started to argue with me but when I grabbed the door handle to leave, he finally agreed.
I turned in my seat to look at him but when he held my gaze it was too intense, so I looked down at my hands. “June and I found something that we weren’t really supposed to find and now I am trying to keep it safe and piece together clues to help me figure out certain things from my past.”
“That explains nothing.”
“Exactly.” I let out an exhausted breath. “Please just trust me. I know you don’t know me but—”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay, I trust you. I’ll see you later tonight.” I was expecting to go to war with him in his car, but he just politely agreed to my wishes. I felt like something was wrong. I eyed him suspiciously as I got out of the car and watched him drive off. I wasn’t even going to put into words how I felt because I was a walking contradiction and should be ashamed of myself.
Getting a large safety deposit box wasn’t as easy as I’d thought it would be. I left the bank feeling much lighter, but now I was worried about the videotape and having yet another key, the safety deposit box key, to keep safe and hidden.
I hopped on the bus heading south so I could go and meet up with Max. We passed by my neighborhood. I really wished I could stop by my apartment and pick up a few things, especially since I was wearing my last pair of clean underwear.
I walked into the recording studio hoping I decoded Max’s meeting p
lace and time correctly. I walked inside and was greeted with a warm welcome. “Hey there, gorgeous! Long time no see. We’ve missed you ’round here.”
“Awww, Jack, I’ve missed you too!” I said, giggling as the he picked me up into a huge bear hug and set me back down on the floor. The size of his beer belly pickled stomach cushioned me like a pillow. “They’re waiting for you in studio six. Pick up some of our new demos before you leave here. We’ve got some good ones.”
“I will, thanks.” I walked down the hallway waving hello to some of the other regulars I recognized. We use to come here all the time when Austin started recording his own album. “Skies Are Gray” was the last track he was working on. The owner, Jack, would let him record for free as long as he gave the recording studio a few shout outs on the radio each week.
I walked into studio six to find Max, Austin, and June sitting in the room waiting for me. Their eyes roamed to my wrist, a habitual reflex when things went off kilter. I felt my lip quiver but kept the tears at bay; I wouldn’t let them see their lack of faith affected me. I thought I was only meeting Max, which meant they’d all talked and collaborated to get involved behind my back, thanks to June.
“Before you freak, just hear us out,” Austin said, coming up behind me shutting the door so I couldn’t run.
“No! No way! You guys aren’t getting mixed up in this mess. I’m not taking any chances.”
June, the ultimate weakness to my defense, added, “We’ve all talked and agreed. You’re not changing our minds so shut up and let’s figure out what the hell is going on!”
“Hand me your phone,” Max said nicely, trying to ease the burn from June’s demand.
He set all of our phones on the table, pushed up his black-rimmed glasses, and started messing with each one. We all sat there and watched. Realizing if someone had been listening in on us or not would put some clarity on how serious this was.
“Larkin…” I could see dread squirming on his face “…he’s planted a bug in your phone.” My knees buckled a little, having every single phone conversation run through my head since I’d met Landon. I wanted to vomit. “Luckily you don’t have a smart phone or any type of GPS navigation. Your phone is so ancient he’s only been able to tap into your phone calls and texts. Everyone else’s phone is fine.” I sat down in shock. He’d been listening to all my private moments. Phone calls with my therapist. Gushing over Landon, voicing my insecurities and swooning over him like a teenage girl on the phone to June.
Max looked at me with pity. “I’m not sure how long it’s been like that. When June called me last night, before I spoke with you, she told me everything that’d happened and I started getting paranoid. I thought about how Landon tried to give you that iPhone and something just didn’t seem right.” He pulled out the chip that was inserted into my phone and broke it into pieces.
If love were human I would’ve set them on fire by now—a screaming blaze of smoke and flesh. I’d breathe in the blackness once more just to feel love’s destruction, its mortality filling in the hollow of my ribcage without a heart.
As much as I wanted to dwell and panic on this major bit of news, I didn’t have time. Focusing on Landon’s betrayal and my heartbreak would be as helpful as taking a spoonful of arsenic. I looked over at the corner of the room and saw it was set up with a television and VHS player. I opened my purse up and pulled out the manila envelope.
“I know you guys want to protect me, and I love you for it, but this is the part I have to do alone. I won’t change my mind.”
“If you need us we’ll be right outside the door,” Max said as each of them gave me a sympathetic hug or pat on the shoulder. Even they knew whatever was on this tape was going to be ugly.
I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants, pulled out the tape, pushed it inside the player, and held my breath as it began to play.
I never valued my life until I ran away wanting to build a new one. I felt bad for the childish girl who couldn’t have cared less if she lived or died. I remembered staring blankly at my mom’s coffin, wondering why I felt envy instead of sadness. My pendulum of time kept swinging. Like a cuckoo clock I sat there with twisted gears, busted bolts, and loose screws—forced to announce there was still more time. But now I felt sick for feeling that way. Regret was an ugly burden to carry. It inhabited your cells and became a part of who you were.
I never told anyone that when I walked in and found my mom lying there on the ground, I smiled. Smiled, as in for the briefest second I felt joy. What type of person felt that way when they found their mother dead? I’d become numb to the idea of her dying. I knew it was just a matter of time. But as I stood there and took in my surroundings, I knew it wasn’t what it seemed. I’d dealt with her overdoses. I’d dealt with her binges. But this was nothing like I’d ever experienced before. When I rolled her over I didn’t recognize her face. I looked for recognition, like I would in a mirror, but I only saw the remnants of the swollen, battered version of a woman I once knew. The drugs were different. The alcohol was different. I knew that I couldn’t just lay her in bed, clean the throw up off her face, and wait for her to wake up in the morning.
I called 9-1-1 then started immediately trying to revive her. Something snapped inside of me. Her body was cold and lifeless with no pulse, yet for over a half an hour I tried to bring her back to me. I didn’t know what else to do. My whole life was centered on taking care of her: feeding her, dressing her, even bathing her. My daughterly sins piled one on top of the other—all for her! I couldn’t have her death on my hands too. That black stain would never wash clean.
Trying to bring her back to life was the closest I’d ever felt to her. Breathing her breath, touching her skin, wanting her to open her eyes so badly so we could have a second chance.
The paramedics and police came and went. No one would listen to me. Nobody cared. She didn’t do it! I felt the eye rolls and patronizing groans. Just a typical dead whore that overdosed. I stood on the porch watching them drive off with her body, hoping the paramedic accidentally left the trauma shears he’d used to cut open her shirt because they looked sharp. I turned around to walk back inside our apartment, dragging my feet up each step, feeling lonely without my shackles, when a white feather drifted down in front of me from the sky. She was really gone.
I held my breath as I watched the television. My stomach soured in anticipation. The tape began to play and as the picture flashed in front of my eyes I instantly knew my life had just changed forever.
Television static turned into a silent surveillance feed. Nancy was wearing a long, strapless, satin dress, one that I’d seen her wear many times before. She saved it for special occasions and I always thought she looked like hell in heels because it was blood red. She entered through the back entrance of the residence, hesitant but familiar. The television screen was split into fours, and through black and white video I could see the grand foyer, the master upstairs common area, the back entrance that led into the kitchen, and the front porch. The home security feed had a title in the upper right hand corner: BLACK ESTATE.
I watched as she moved through the extravagant kitchen and pictured things in color, like her chocolate brown hair curled and piled on top of her head, the dress flowing behind her in a ripple of crimson waves quickly disappearing from the camera’s view. She knew where she was headed; my eyes followed her from screen to screen – entering into the grand foyer, vanishing again until she walked up the stairs reaching the common area that was in the center of multiple rooms. Once upstairs, she stopped cautiously as Franklin Black exited out one of the doors. I stepped closer to the screen to make sure, but I knew it was him. I recognized him without question from the photo in Landon’s office. His father was a tall, handsome man with broad shoulders and crisp distinct features—eyebrows straight, nose Greek. Gray lightly frosted his hair making him look sophisticated in his tuxedo as he held a glass full of liquid in his hand, pinky out.
When he saw Nancy his body went ridged, furio
us she was there. She timidly moved toward him like a defiant dog. He was drunk, stumbling angrily, balancing his weight on the wall, glass sloshing over until he set it down. An argument ensued, open mouths and flailing arms. The distance between them grew smaller, intimate even, portraying a lovers’ quarrel. I felt like my eyes were deceiving me. I blinked rapidly trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Nancy collapsed on her knees in front of him, whining and begging as she clung to the bottom of his tux jacket. In a split second everything became much more real; I could feel the water boiling, getting hot ready to steam. I gasped in shock as he pulled his arm across his body then violently backhanded her across the face. It was a deafening blow sending her skidding across the floor and scrambling to get away. In two giant strides, Franklin pulled her off the ground by her hair. I tore my eyes away the minute he forced her to bend over the stair railing, pulling the bottom of her dress up with one hand and ripping down her underwear. I covered the upper left corner of the screen, hiding what I knew I didn’t want to see. My throat held back bile and I couldn’t sort through my thoughts. All I could do was wait and watch the seconds tick by on the time stamp.
Minutes later I saw a movement from the bottom corner of the screen. It was Landon’s brother Patrick. He fiddled with the back door, closing and locking it behind him. He slowly walked through the kitchen looking toward the ceiling, pausing to clench and unclench his hands. I knew what was going on upstairs and I was afraid he did too. I watched Patrick disappear and then take the same path Nancy did, walking into the grand foyer and up the stairs. As the two images collided, I pulled my hand away from the screen and watched as father and son came face to face.
