by Tricia Barr
I couldn’t hide the rage I felt inside. All my poker-face skills were nothing next to the hatred stewing inside me like magma in the belly of a volcano. Luca obviously saw this, because his hand started creeping toward the gun he kept taped to the underside of his desk.
“Just tell me one thing, Luca,” I said, taking a step closer. “Did you ever love me?”
“Of course, I did, Lorelei,” Luca said. “You are the daughter I never had.” All the while, he gestured with his right hand to distract me from his left that was inching ever closer to his gun.
Liar. I shook my head, and just as I heard the tape rip away from the desk, I gripped his soul with my ethereal sense and yanked it out.
Luca’s eyes widened in shock and terror, his arm still attempting to aim the gun, even as his spine arched backward. With his free hand, he gripped his chest, as if trying to grab hold of his soul and keep it from being taken from him. Then the gun slipped through his spasming hand, landing loudly on the desk, and he toppled off his chair and fell behind the desk out of my sight.
I stepped slowly around the desk and looked down at his body. His face was frozen in that petrified expression, even as the rest of his body relaxed with the claiming of death.
“Thanks for helping me catch my parents’ killer,” I said. “Consider them avenged.”
His soul floated over his body for a brief moment, struggling against something I couldn’t see, and then faded like so many of them do. I was glad he moved on. I didn’t want to have to see any part of him again, alive or dead.
I stood there for a long time, numbness settling over me. I didn’t want to feel any of the betrayal or regret and anger that was waiting for me. I just wanted it all to shut off, so I let the numbness take me. Only then could I think clearly. I had to move.
It was only a matter of time before someone found him here, and they would know I did it. His death was undoubtedly my handy-work, Smooth would recognize it in a heartbeat. Then they would come for me. And even if they didn’t, I wanted no part in this life anymore. I needed to get as far away from this place as possible. I needed to start over.
I kicked Luca’s corpse out of the way and sat at his desk in front of his computer. I logged into his financial accounts and wired it all to my bank account. Every last dime. He owed me so much more than money, but this was a good start. I would use it to make a new life for myself, with a new name.
Once that was done, I turned my back on Luca forever and went down the stairs to my room. I dug wildly through my closet and dresser, decided on the fly what clothes I wanted to take with me, then jammed them into the backpack I had never needed to use before now. I took one last desperate look around the room, the bedroom that I called my sanctuary for the last six years. Was there anything else in here I couldn’t live without?
Any normal teenager would have packed their phone and laptop too, but those were things that they could use to track me. Besides, with Luca’s money, I could buy brand new ones, as soon as I was safe.
I tiptoed down the last flight of stairs, careful not to make too much noise and alert Carmella. I didn’t know if she was part of all this, but if she wasn’t, she was safer not being with me.
When I was sure the coast was clear, I made the jog across the living room toward the front door. But at the halfway mark, where I was fully exposed, I heard the glass door to the backyard slide open, and I squeezed my eyes shut defeatedly.
“Lorelei?” Carmella asked to my right.
I was caught. I was carrying a bursting backpack in the middle of the night toward the front door. It was obvious what I was doing.
“What’s going on?” she asked, coming closer.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to know.
I spun around to face her. “Did you know?”
“Did I know what?” Carmella asked, her gorgeous face pinched with concern and confusion.
“Did you know that Luca had my parents killed?” I kept my voice steady, my eyes poised on her face, even though I wanted to cry.
Her thickly lash-framed eyes bounced back and forth between both of mine, looking for any sign of a joke. “He did what?” she finally asked, an authentic look of betrayal crossing her face.
I let my chest fall to release a sigh of relief. I could tell she wasn’t lying, that she was as genuinely surprised by this news as I was. At least I had one person I could trust.
“How did you find out?” she asked, pulling me into a hug.
I was still so numb that I couldn’t let myself enjoy the comfort she was offering. “I overheard him and Smooth talking about it just now. Carmella…” I pulled away from her embrace to look into her eyes. “I killed him.”
Her finely manicured brows lifted in shock. Now to see where her loyalties lay. With her dead boss, or the girl she had helped raise for six years. After the events of this night, I wasn’t too confident.
She pulled me in for an even fiercer hug, patting my head frantically. “Aye, this is such a big mess! What are we going to do? How are we going to explain this?”
I pulled away again, this time with more effort. “We are not doing anything. I did this. You had nothing to do with it. I have to leave.”
“Oh no, you’re not,” Carmella said warningly, and for a moment I feared she was about to betray me, too. “I’m not going to let you go anywhere by yourself. I’m coming with you.”
More relief flooded me, only to be squashed by resolve. “No. They will hunt me down. You can stay here and continue to live the way you’re accustomed. You’re not safe with me.”
She shook her head firmly, planting her hands on her curvy hips. “And you’re not safe without me. We are a family, and if you’re going to leave this place, then so am I. We can both start over somewhere, together.”
I wanted to keep arguing with her, to make her stay, but I also desperately wanted some part of my life to stay the same. The idea of moving to a small suburb somewhere, far away from this hell hole, and living a normal life with Carmella, sounded too wonderful to deny. I loved her. She wasn’t my real mom, but she had been the best mom to me that anyone could be. She didn’t have to care for me when Luca brought me here. She was only his cook and housekeeper at the time. But she opened her heart to me and took on the job of full-time nanny too. Not that I was the best judge, clearly, but I believed that she loved me too. The fierce look in her eyes said as much.
“Okay,” I said, the first emotion breaking through my barrier of numbness—hope. “But we have to hurry. Pack a bag and let’s get out of here.”
She nodded and rushed up to her room. I stood there in the middle of the living room, buzzing from the speed of my pulse that threatened to lift my feet clean off the floor. This was it. My life was about to change forever. What would the next chapter hold for me, for us? For the first time, I couldn’t see the path ahead. It was a blank slate. And though it was scary as all hell, it was kind of comforting too.
Three Months Later
“Lorelei, wake up, you don’t want to be late for your first day of school!” Carmella called on the other side of my door.
“I’m already up,” I called back as I finished tying my shoe. “I’ll be downstairs in a sec.”
I put my foot back onto the floor and then pulled my backpack onto the bed. I looked through each compartment, double-checking that I had everything I could possibly need for my first day of college. Strange to think that the first time this backpack was ever used was to run away from Vegas three months ago. That night it had been full of sloppily packed clothes, and now it was organized with a new laptop, notebooks, pencils and pens, a planner, two text books, and a new cell phone.
When we first left, the initial transition was tricky. That fateful night, we went straight from the condo to a guy named Jimmy Faulk who specialized in giving people new identities. He owed me a favor. Luca had instructed me to shake him down once, but he was ultimately a good guy, so I let him go and he stayed well under Luca’s radar. I was confid
ent he wouldn’t rat us out to Luca’s men, because they would kill him, too. If they found him.
He gave Carmella and me the full treatment: new social security numbers, IDs, passports, birth certificates, everything we would need to be different people. At my request, he only gave us new last names—the same last name, so we were officially mother and daughter. I didn’t want to have to get used to a new first name, I didn’t have the attention span for that. But it wasn’t just that. My name was the only thing I had left of my parents, and I wanted to hold onto it.
So, we were now Carmella and Lorelei Black—I was tempted to go with Bond, but that would have been too obviously fake. Black was simple and easy to remember, and since I didn’t have a speck of Hispanic in my features, it was more believable that Carmella was my step-mother than blood mother. Life since we fled Sin City had been really nice.
After Jimmy’s, we booked a flight to Seattle, Washington. Once we arrived, I went to the first bank I found and set up a new account there under my new name and had my old account emptied into it. We set out right away to find a house in the suburbs, well after getting new cars for both of us, of course, and since then, we had been living like a real mother and daughter.
We had neighbors, neighbors who invited us over for barbeques and birthday parties, neighbors with kids and teens my age that I got to hang out with on a regular basis. One of them, Trixie, who lived three doors down, was even going to start at the University of Washington this semester too, just like me. I was going to start school with an actual friend!
As far as college was concerned, I had been accepted under my previous name, but after Carmella’s dramatic story of how we fled an abusive father/husband, they agreed to change my name in their system too, especially when we handed them a check for the full amount of four years tuition.
Trixie and I had explored the UW campus several times over the summer, mapping out our classes and setting up rendezvous points for breaks in between and lunch time. I was as prepared as I could be, but I was still nervous to start my first day of school in seven years.
Satisfied with the contents of my backpack, I tripped down the stairs to join Carmella for breakfast. The table was laid out with bacon, eggs, cinnamon rolls and freshly cut fruit. I sat down across from Carmella, who was beaming at me.
“I am so proud of you,” she said, positively glowing as she stared at me. “You’ve risen above so much crap that the world has thrown at you, and here you are, about to start your first day of college, which you have absolutely earned.”
I smiled with a mouth full of bacon. “Thank you,” I said, then swallowed. “But I couldn’t have done it without you. I don’t know where I’d be right now if it weren’t for you.”
“Well, don’t even think about that,” she said, waving her hand as if to wave away the thought. “You just focus on school.”
Knock, knock.
“Speaking of which, that’s Trixie,” I said. “I’m gonna drive her to campus. Maybe even every day.” I smiled big at that. Then I wiped my mouth and pushed away from the table.
“That’s all you’re going to eat?” Carmella asked. “At least take some with you.”
“No, it’s okay, I’ll just get something there after my first class,” I said. “You know, this school has restaurants all over the place! Huh, I think I’m going to like it here.” I closed my eyes, savoring a cozy moment of joy, then picked up my backpack and headed for the door.
“Have a good day!” Carmella called after me.
I waved goodbye and opened the front door. On our doorstep stood a cute girl with ear-length shiny brown hair in a spaghetti strap shirt and jean shorts—clearly Trixie was a native of Seattle, because I was freezing in my graphic sweatshirt, skinny jeans and boots.
“Ready to go?” Trixie asked in her sweet girl-next-door voice.
“Definitely,” I said.
My brand-new cherry red Mustang was parked in the driveway, the sun winking off of it like it was a candy-coated apple. It brought a smile to my face every time I looked at it. I got behind the wheel, loving the feel of the cool leather in my hands. I had become a much more confident driver over the last few months, and I loved the freedom it gave me. I could go wherever I wanted, and there was no one to tell me what to do, or what not to. Carmella was a much more laid-back guardian than Luca had ever been. All she wanted was for me to be happy, and damn was I ever these days.
I turned the ignition, and the car roared to life, its grumble vibrating through me from the bottom of my bum to the top of my head. I pulled out and we hit the road.
I loved the drive to the University of Washington campus. Seattle was a lovely place. It didn’t have all the glamour that Vegas had, and it was overcast almost all the time, but there were so much more trees everywhere and actual grass lawns.
“You are so lucky you got to grow up here,” I told Trixie. “It’s beautiful.”
“Really?” she asked, looking at me like I was crazy. “It’s so drab and boring. I would kill for more sun.”
I laughed, noticing how pale her exposed legs were.
“Where did you live before you moved here?” she asked.
I didn’t see any reason to lie to her. Trixie was such a sweet girl, I wanted to be honest with her as much as I could, but just not enough to scare her away. “Las Vegas,” I replied.
“Oh man, that’s cool!” she said. “I’m so jealous.”
“Well, don’t be,” I said. “Vegas may have flashing lights and fun attractions, but it’s all fake. There’s nothing homey about it. Crime and filth were everywhere. Trust me, this town is so much better.”
“Agree to disagree,” she said, and we both laughed.
Trixie was so naïve to the real world. She had grown up only knowing the sheltered existence her loving, happily-married parents had provided for her. But that’s what I loved about her. Envied, really. She made me feel so normal. She was the first real friend I had had in longer than I could remember, which made her my best friend.
After we parked my car in one of the parking garages closest to both our first classes, we parted ways to start our first day of college life. My first class was English 101. The classroom was smaller than I expected for a college class, but still large enough to fit thirty students. There were no desks, but rather long tables each with two chairs all facing a magic erase board.
Most of the chairs were already filled, so I quietly took an empty one in the middle. I looked around at my fellow students. Unlike what I would expect from high school kids, these people all looked like they wanted to be here. No giggling or chatter, no fingers tapping on a smart phone. And I was the youngest person in the room. Many of them looked eighteen or nineteen, with a few appearing in their late twenties.
Shortly after I took my seat, a young woman in heels walked across the room to the board and started the lecture. And though it was all basic introductory information about MLA format, I found myself completely engrossed in it. It was so refreshing to have an actual professor in front of me, in a room with peers that could exchange ideas and questions, even start an intellectual argument. I loved every minute of it!
Before I knew it, the hour was over, and Professor Trill assigned us an easy little essay due at the end of the week. I had a half hour break before my next class, so I went to the closest mini-mart and bought a cappuccino, then found a bench next to a little garden full of colorful pansies.
I watched people walk by, both students and professors going about their morning. I almost couldn’t believe I was here. I was buzzing with happiness to have made it to this point in my life. Yes, I had only survived one class so far, and it was only my first day, but I was beyond excited to charge into the rest of my college journey.
Suddenly, I felt a shift in the air. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood on end. I knew what this sensation usually meant—a ghost was nearby. But…this wasn’t a ghost. This felt…different somehow. I looked around me, trying not to get the atte
ntion of whatever it was, but curious as to the source of this strange feeling.
No one around me looked dead. All the bodies I saw were as solid as I was, with their pumping blood reddening their skin. All the voices I heard around me were coming out of mouths of living, breathing people. I shrugged it off and took another sip of my drink.
And then my eyes fell on a strikingly familiar face. An impossible face. A handsome man stood at the other end of the grassy field in front of me, looking right at me. How could I be seeing him right now? Was I dreaming? Crap, did I oversleep on my first day of school!?
I pinched the skin of my wrist hard, then inwardly cursed as the pain stung. I definitely wasn’t dreaming. But that definitely was the man from my dreams. I would know that wavy sandy hair and those gray-green eyes anywhere. And right now, those eyes were trained on me, staring unblinkingly.
Was he a ghost? Was he the source of this eerie sensation chilling my spine? Maybe that was the reason I had dreamt of him all this time, because he was a spirit who somehow haunted me in my sleep. It certainly made sense, I had watched the rerun of his death hundreds of times. If that was so, then why was he here, now? What did he want?
I was debating whether to sit here and wish him away or confront him. He had been the focus of so many dreams all throughout my life, and the curiosity was burning inside me, sizzling through my limbs. But no other ghost I had ever encountered had the power to infiltrate my dreams. What if he was something more powerful, something sinister? Yet, the dreams of him had always been pleasant. Not always without bloodshed, but still left me with a pleasant feeling.
My phone vibrated in my lap, startling me. I looked down to see a text from Trixie.
UGH, MY TRIG PROFESSOR IS SATAN’S SPAWN! 50 PROBLEMS DUE BY WEDS! SHE’S PURE EVIL
I skimmed the message, unwilling to be distracted yet, and looked back up across the field. But the man was gone. I jumped to my feet and peered around in all directions, wondering where he’d gone. But he was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished without a trace. And I was left with a foreboding emptiness that threatened to darken my good day.
