Because of You

by RaShelle Workman

  Before I have a chance to scream, a cloth covers my mouth and nose, and I feel my body get hazy.

  Kyle

  I open my eyes and sit up immediately. “Oh, shit.” My head is pounding and my stomach feels queasy. Like I have a hangover. I check my arm to see if there’s something there to prove Evan stabbed me with a needle.

  “Evan!” I shout, scanning the room. It’s sterile. Overly so. It doesn’t look like it belongs in the old warehouse I walked into. Four white walls. The cot I’m sitting on. A bright light shines overhead, a door, and an aluminum toilet in the corner. “Evan!” I twist the handle on the door. Shake it. Try to kick it in. It won’t budge. The sounds reverberate. Echo. “Evan!” I shout again, hoping the son-of-a-bitch shows his face so I can pound it. Several minutes pass. No one comes.

  I sit back down on the cot. Put my head in my hands. All sorts of things run through my mind. Is this some sort of hazing prank? Did I do something—other than the normal shit—that’s made Evan mad? I’m clueless. This is so strange. Even with all of Evan’s shady dealings, this seems out of character and way too elaborate for the people I’d seen him hang with. I can’t decide what’s going on. Evan’s been weird lately but I figured it had to do with stress from school. I reach in my pocket to pull out my phone, but it’s gone. Evan must’ve taken it. And I’m suddenly worried. About what his stealing my phone might mean.

  He wouldn’t hurt me.

  There’s got to be an explanation.

  We’re like brothers.

  Thoughts run through my mind, but none of them make me feel any better. Because the fact is, Evan put me in here.

  I lay back on the cot. Close my eyes. Try not to think about anything.

  The sweet smell of Maddie’s hair fills my nose. I see her eyes sparkle right before I kiss her. Feel her warm skin against my fingers.

  A rustling at the door brings me out of my memories. I stand, preparing myself for a fight. Two huge guys, the size of concrete walls, enter. They look familiar. Maybe they were friends of my dad’s.

  “You guys here to let me out?”

  The one on the left is wearing a dark suit, white-buttoned shirt, and pinstriped tie. His hair is blond, pulled back in a ponytail. The other guy is in jeans and a pink golf shirt. His head is shaved and his ears are pierced, like Mr. Clean on steroids.

  “Mr. Hadley would like you to sit tight and be cool. He says you’ll be out in no time.” They open the door to leave. .

  “Wait. That’s all you got?” They can’t leave. They just got here and I need information. “What’s this all about?” My fingers find the spot where I felt the needle go in. It’s slightly raised and feels extra warm. I’m guessing it has to do with drugs.

  Baldy and Ponytail exchange a look. Ponytail shrugs. “If Mr. Hadley hasn’t told you, we probably shouldn’t say.”

  I walk up to Ponytail, anger burning my vision. “Serious. You need to let me out.” I shove my fingers into his shoulder. Faster than I believed such a big guy could move, he grabs my arm and pushes me to my knees. Pain shoots through my leg.

  Ponytail says, “Stay put.” He pushes some stray hair from his face, walks out the door. I hear it being locked behind them.

  I shake the stars from my eyes and drag my sorry ass over to the cot. Blood drips from my nose, and I wipe at it. There’s something silver on the white floor next to a smeared drop of blood. I fall to my knees and grab it.

  It’s a key. Ponytail dropped a key. I can’t believe my luck.

  I count to a thousand, hoping whoever they are, they’ve left. Then I go to the door, and push the key in the lock. It clicks. The handle turns, and I’m free.

  Maddie

  When I come to it’s with the knowledge that I’m sitting up, but my hands are tied behind my back and to a hard wooden chair. My shoulders scream in pain. I open my eyes and scan the room. Dead animal heads are mounted on the wood-paneled walls. There’s an antelope, an elk, a bear…at least a dozen animals. Their glassy eyes seem to be giving me an accusatory glare. Like I somehow killed them, stuffed them, and hung half their bodies on display.

  Completely out of place is a flat screen TV, mounted between a mountain lion head and a deer head. The ceiling is low. Muted light fills the room. Beneath my feet is ugly flecked brown carpet. To the right is a bar, with dozens of bottles lined above a sink. A mirror is behind them. A pool table is directly in front of me. A card table to the left next to a stained orange couch. The room smells musty.

  From behind me I hear clomping, like someone coming down stairs, and a door opens.

  I’m guessing I’m in the basement of a house.

  “Oh, good, you’re awake.” Evan comes around and faces me. He’s carrying a laptop in his hands. A smug smile on his face. “We’re going to make this quick.”

  I feel my eyes scrunch together. “What is going on?” I croak. My throat is dry. Fear tightens my gut and my knees are shaking.

  “Here’s the thing.” He walks over to the bar, sets the small laptop on it. Pushes some buttons and then clicks on the TV.

  My aunt and uncle are sitting in the living room, watching TV. My uncle’s arm is around my aunt. She’s patting his knee. They are wearing the clothes they had on when I left. They both laugh.

  “How are you doing that? Is this live? Did you put a camera in my house?” With each question my voice raises an octave.

  Evan keeps his mouth clamped shut.

  I keep watching the monitor.

  My uncle looks toward the hallway, surprise evident on his face. Two men dressed in ski masks barge in.

  He says something, but I can’t hear what it is. I can guess it’s something like, “What the hell?” Uncle John tries to stand, but one of the men pulls a gun and fires. My uncle is knocked backward, falling between the couch and the coffee table. He grabs his chest as blood stains his shirt.

  I scream, pressing against the plastic ties binding me. “Uncle John!”

  My aunt leans into him. There’s terror and tears on her face.

  The other man in the ski mask pulls a gun on my aunt. She says something. The man steps forward, lifts his arm.

  “No. No. No,” I say quietly, even though I know they can’t hear me.

  The man backhands my aunt. Her eyes roll into her head and she falls.

  The men look at each other and then each takes hold of my aunt and uncle. They arrange them so they’re lying on their sides, my aunt and uncle facing each other. Red is swelling and leaking from both of their bodies. It looks like my uncle is awake and trying to talk. He reaches out to my aunt.

  Tears cloud my eyes. I can’t breathe. My chest feels like someone is standing on it, crushing the life from me. And I want it. I want the release. Because this can’t be happening. Not again. “Make them stop. Please.” I glance at Evan.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t. What’s happening now is out of my control.”

  My aunt’s lips are moving. I lean forward, desperate to know what she’s saying.

  The men aim their guns at my aunt and uncle’s head.

  And the screen goes black. I realize Evan has clicked off the laptop.

  “Soooooo, uncle-and-auntie-blackmail-pants are finally dead,” Evan says, closing the laptop. “Did you like the way I had them placed exactly like your parents?” He pauses a moment, then continues, “I thought it was romantic.”

  My mouth opens and closes. I want to say things, do things to Evan, but I can’t. Not yet.

  Evan shrugs. “Maybe you don’t see it that way.” He moves so his face is directly in front of mine, and I can smell his putrid breath. “Maybe you don’t remember. Let me show you.” He clicks the TV back on, and I’m transported back in time.

  It’s my parents’ house. They are sitting at the table. Dad is holding a beer. Mom is doing a crossword puzzle. They are talking. My dad sets down his beer and stands. His hands come out in front of him and wave back and forth. I can read one word on his lips. “No.” He’s saying it over and ove
r, like I did a few moments ago. Then a man comes into the picture. It’s Evan’s dad. Ryan. He’s holding a strange-looking gun. Ryan shoots my dad. I see my mom scream and Ryan shoots her too. Then Kyle’s dad enters the room. He and Ryan are fighting, arguing. Kyle’s dad looks right at the camera. I flinch. If my heart hadn’t exploded before, it does now. I didn’t think I could feel more pain. Hurt more. But I’m hurting so badly my body goes numb. My mind blanks.

  I watch the rest without feeling.

  My dad struggles to reach my mother. He lies down beside her. Brushes some hair off her face. Places a hand on her hip.

  A sob racks through me, breaking the silence. “Why?” I whisper.

  Evan kneels down, pulls my forehead to his. “Because your mom and dad were cowards, that’s why.”

  I spit in his face.

  He falls back, surprised. “Bitch.” He takes a napkin from the bar and wipes his face. Then comes back over and slaps me so hard I see spots. “The simple answer is drugs. Your mom and dad were drug dealers, as were several officers and detectives in the police department. One of the IA pricks caught wind and started an investigation. Kyle’s dad was implicated and so was mine.” Evan slaps me again. “Your parents told them about Kyle’s dad. About my dad. They made a deal with the IA assholes. They intended to sing like the squawking canaries they were. My dad and Kyle’s dad couldn’t let that happen. So your parents were killed. The investigation was closed.”

  “But my aunt and uncle? They never did anything.” I don’t believe a word he’s saying.

  Evan slaps me again. This time my lip cracks and blood erupts, gushing down my chin. “The assholes blackmailed Kyle’s dad, my dad. Sure, we allowed them to think they got away with it. But we were biding our time. Now that you’re eighteen, you have access to a safety deposit box. Try as we might we haven’t been able to find the key. That’s where you come in. That’s why you’re still alive. Because we need that key, Pudgy Mudgy.”

  I’m in shock. “A-A key?” I have no idea about the key he’s referring to. A shuddering breath torments my body. “I don’t know about a safety deposit box, nor have I ever seen a key.”

  Evan shakes his head. “I thought you might say that.” He presses some keys on his laptop, and the scene on the TV changes again. It’s no longer the dead bodies of my parents, but of a cot in a small room. Lying on the cot is Kyle.

  “You wouldn’t,” I breathe, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

  “Trust me, I don’t want to. I actually like the kid. But my father is desperate for that key. If you don’t tell me where it is, Kyle will die. And haven’t enough people already died?”

  I stare at the screen. Kyle isn’t moving. He’s lying on his back. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm. He’s alive. I’m so grateful my shoulders sag. My breath comes out in a big puff. I didn’t even realize I’d been holding it.

  That still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t know where the key is. I rack my brain, trying to remember conversations my aunt and uncle had with me over the years. Something that might have been important but I didn’t realize it at the time.

  There is one thing my uncle says whenever our conversation turns serious. “Remember the Titans.” His catch phrase. Then he taps his nose. He’d done it right before I left the house tonight. At the realization that might’ve been the last time I see him or my aunt alive, my heart clenches. The phrase is something I thought was one of his weird quirks—for two reasons. He owns a Titan truck, and “Remember the Titans” is his absolute favorite movie. At least that’s what he said. Now I wonder if maybe the key is in the DVD case or if it might be in his truck.

  “So. What’s it going to be? Kyle’s death or the key?”

  “You promise you won’t hurt Kyle if I give you that key?” I figure it can’t hurt to stall. If Evan lets me go, I can look for the key and then find a way to contact the police.

  He makes a tsk-tsk sound with his mouth. Slaps my face again. “Of course, Pudgy Mudgy. I’ve no desire to kill my cousin. Right now he probably thinks this is all some kind of joke. But it’s going to turn ugly fast if you don’t give me what I want.”

  I nod.

  “Where is it?”

  I clear my throat. “I don’t know exactly. But…”

  Evan sighs heavily. “Why did I have a feeling you were going to say that?” He pulls a cell phone from his pocket, presses a button, and holds it to his ear. “Kill—” He gasps.

  I hear shouting from the guy on the other end of the phone.

  “Mother fucker.” Evan kicks me and I cry out. “I’m on my way.” He grabs my hair. “Sit tight, Pudgy. I’ll be back.” He walks behind me and I hear a door slam.

  When I’m sure he’s gone, I twist my wrists, trying to get my hands free. They won’t budge. I know they’ve been zip tied.

  No escape, I keep thinking. Trying to accept that fact, I close my eyes against the hot tears that won’t stop. I keep seeing my mom and dad get shot, and my aunt and uncle. It’s almost too much to take in. For so many years, I wondered what happened. In two minutes, I watched the events unfold. Kyle’s dad didn’t shoot them, but he was there. I struggle to believe it, to understand.

  I start screaming. If I’m going to die like the rest of my family, then I’m going to die fighting.

  I hear shouting outside the door.

  “Evan, you sick asshole. Come back here and fight like a man.”

  This is it, I think.

  Kyle

  I open the door and look into the hallway. It’s different from my sterile room. The corridor is old, paint peeling from the walls. The corkboard ceiling is stained with old water damage and it smells like a barn. The sound of repetitive dripping sounds from somewhere in the building. I don’t hear people—namely, Baldy and Ponytail.

  Stepping out of the room, I move down the hall as quietly as possible. At the end I turn right and enter a giant room, like an airplane hangar. There are airplane parts scattered all over, laying on the floor, hanging out of wooden crates, and piled in a stack.

  A smell I’m quite familiar with hangs in the air. Marijuana. Pot. Ganja. The college drug, at least that’s what Evan always called it. Whatever.

  It’s obvious Evan is into some shit out of his control, or maybe it’s totally in his control and I just have no idea who Evan really is. The thought hurts. I thought we were more than friends—brothers. It kills me that I was such an idiot. Either way, I need to find him.

  There’s a small door off to the left, and I run toward it. Turn the handle and burst into the cold, night air. My skin prickles. I’m immediately freezing and I need a phone. The street is empty and I’m about to go back in the warehouse, hoping to find a phone in there when I see headlights.

  “Yes,” I whisper, running toward it. I wave my hands over my head, hoping they’ll see me.

  The car stops several feet away. It’s black. Kinda looks like a Beamer. At this point it could be a tractor and I’d be happy.

  I run over. The driver’s side window goes down. “Hey—” I begin, and stop. It’s Ms. Spears, the English professor I TA for at the college. “What the hell are you doing here?” I want to question her further, but mostly I want to get out of here.

  “Get in,” she commands.

  I want to and place my hand on the door, but I hesitate. A lot has gone down between us.

  “Don’t be an asshole.” She whips out a badge. I lean forward, really checking it out.

  “FBI? Really? You expect me to buy that?” I can’t help the snort the leaves my throat.

  A guy leans across her and holds a badge out for me to see. “This isn’t a game, son. Get in the damn car.”

  I freezing my balls off and completely shocked. “Serious?”

  Bitchy shakes her head. “Yes, you idiot.”

  I climb in behind her. Buckle up.

  The car jolts forward and the guy with black hair turns to face me. “My name is Agent Harris. I’ve been with the FBI for fifteen ye
ars, and am agent Smythe’s partner.”

  “Agent Smythe?” I interrupt.

  He points at Bitchy. She raises a hand, and waves. “Hellooooo.”

  “So, tell me, Kyle. What do you know about your uncle and aunt?”

  “Um.” I’m not sure what to say. “They’re family. I care about them. I know my aunt is constantly hanging out with her friends at the country club. My uncle is constantly gone, dealing with his restaurant. They’re busy. I know there’s more. I’ve known it for as long as I’ve known Evan has been dealing with drug dealers and whoever else. But they’re all I have. So I looked the other way. “My uncle owns an Italian restaurant. My aunt likes to hang out at the country club.” I stop, clamp my mouth shut. What do they want me to say?

  Agent Harris nods. “That’s true. To an extent. We believe your uncle is the leader of a mafia-style drug ring that has its tentacles in the Bellam Springs Police Department. We believe your father worked for him, and he did something to go against the family, which is why he was executed. We also believe that the girl you’ve been dating, Maddelena Martin?” He paused, as though waiting for me to confirm.

  “Yes, I know her.”

  “Her father came into information about your father and your uncle that would implicate them. But, as you know, he and her mother were killed. And the information wasn’t recovered.”

  A bead of fear is forming in my gut, and is growing. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because Maddie is in trouble. We had eyes on her, but she’s gone and we aren’t sure where she is. We’ve been checking all of the known locations your uncle has used over the years, but we’ve come up empty handed.”

  “She’s supposed to be staying with her aunt and uncle,” I say, trying to push down the terror building inside.

  “We had a car there, but they were called away. It’s all very suspicious. We think they took your girlfriend. Any idea where Evan might have taken her?”

  “This is bullshit. Evan wouldn’t do something like that. Let me call him.”

  Agent Harris hands me a phone. “By all means.”