Saturn and Her Rings (Mended Universe Book 2)

by BL Mute

  “Where was this?” Dr. Keller asks.

  “I told you… Hell.”

  She just nods and gives me a tight smile. “How do you feel about that now?”

  I let out a deep breath. “It just solidified my thoughts of only trusting myself. After Mr. Barbie, I stuck to myself a lot. But that—that just made me realize I have no one but me. I never tried to ‘help,’ if you could call it that, anyone again.”

  “The world made you so hard,” she says softly.

  “I wouldn’t survive if I was soft.” I wink. “See you next time, Doc.”

  I stand from the couch and walk to the door. I’ve always brushed off my problems and what I’ve been through as no big deal, but honestly, they’re far from that. I’m just glad I can talk to Dr. Keller. Sure, she isn’t ideal, but she’s been nice.

  “Sonni, wait!” I turn and face Dr. Keller. She’s leaning over her desk scribbling something down on a piece of paper.

  “Here.” She extends her hand to me with a small square of paper. “In case you ever need me, I’m here.”

  I take the paper and look at it. It has her name and personal cell phone number on the back.

  “You have a phone, right?” she asks.

  My hand moves to my back pocket of my shorts where I keep the phone Six gave me and nod.

  “Good. Call or text me anytime you need me and I’m not here.” She smiles.

  “Doubt I’ll ever need to, but thanks.” I turn back around and walk out of the door.

  I’ve never had an adult who cares enough to give me their number. I mean, there is Patricia, but she has to care; it’s her job. But no one has genuinely cared about me before. Maybe it’s pity for everything I’ve been through, but I’ll ignore it for now and just enjoy it.

  I walk to the front door and leave, then hit the sidewalk and do the same thing I’ve done for the past week. I walk to Joe’s and hope I’ll run into Six. I shouldn’t be worried or hoping anything when it comes to him, but not seeing him is making me anxious. He wants my help but disappeared as soon as I agreed. Sure, he’s texted, but it just isn’t the same.

  The bell above the door announces my arrival. “Hey, Sonni. Same thing?” the woman behind the counter asks.

  Since I’ve been here a lot, she’s learned my name and my order. I guess that isn’t too surprising considering it’s a small town, but I haven’t even bothered to read her name tag.

  “No, thanks. I’m just going to sit today,” I reply.

  She nods, then walks into the back.

  I slide into the corner booth I always sit at and look out of the glass to my side. Cars go by on the road, some people walk by on the sidewalk, but no Six. I flick crumbs from the table with my finger, trying to kill time some way other than just sitting.

  The bell above the door rings. I whip my head to the front and see an old man walking in. Letting out a deep breath, I stand from the booth and walk out. I obviously won’t be seeing Six today, so no point in waiting.

  I hit the sidewalk again and walk in the direction of Safe Haven. My back pocket starts vibrating.

  I fumble to get it out of my pocket knowing it’s Six. I haven’t used it to talk to anyone but him. And the thought of even just hearing his voice has my heart dancing and my stomach turning all at once.

  I look on the screen and see Six’s dark eyes staring at me and his name, Suffocating Six, run across the bottom.

  I push the green button and bring it to my ear while I continue walking. “It’s about time. I don’t see how you can want help, then flake out on me right after I agree.”

  I hear him chuckle on the other end. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you couldn’t care less if I kept in touch. Have you changed your mind? Are you ready to let me change your world?”

  “No,” I say flatly. “I’ve only been waiting because I still don’t know what the fuck is going on. I have a life of my own, Six.”

  “Mmm. Say my name again,” he whispers.

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’d love to. I know those lips would look amazing wrapped around my—”

  “Shut up,” I cut him off. “What do you want? Why did you call?”

  He laughs. “When is your birthday?”

  I’m taken back. “What?”

  “Your birthday. You know, the day you were born.”

  “I know that isn’t why you called. Why don’t you just look in my file?” I ask.

  “Because I don’t have it anymore, and I was only paying attention to other things.”

  I shake my head. “June ninth.”

  “Great. We have about three weeks.”

  “Three weeks for what?”

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  I slow my strides. “Answer my question and I’ll answer yours. Tit for tat, Silas. You can’t keep ignoring my questions.”

  I hear him let out a deep breath. “You’re at Joe’s, aren’t you?”

  I glance behind me and manage to still make out the neon Joe’s sign, but it’s distant. “Actually, I’m not.” I grin, then turn back around.

  “Turn around, Saturn,” he says in a low deep voice.

  I turn slowly and see a black Chevelle SS. A ’68 if I had to guess.

  When Mr. Barbie noticed I didn’t like the dolls he would bring, he started bringing cars. Of course, I wasn’t interested—not in him, not the dolls, and not the cars—but it helped me gain useless knowledge I would never need. Being able to identify an old muscle car never came in handy until now.

  The line on the phone goes dead, so I slip it back into my pocket and study the car. It has a deep rumble, shiny black paint that reflects the trees beside it, and chrome rims.

  The driver’s window rolls down, and the most sinister brown eyes meet mine. He doesn’t stare through me like his picture on my phone. No. Right now he’s staring into me. His eyes roam all over my body. I can feel them peeking into the cracks in my dignity, knowledge of right and wrong, and he doesn’t care.

  I break the contact and walk to the passenger side, open the door, and slip in. “Now you really are stalking me,” I say once I sit and buckle. Safety first…

  He shrugs. “I am.”

  I shake my head. “So, three weeks for what?”

  He revs the engine, then moves the gear shift that sits in between us. “Until your birthday.” He smirks.

  “No shit. But the way you were talking made it seem there was more than that.”

  He hits the gas pedal and shifts the stick, then sends us speeding down the road. There is a slight pause before I’m thrown back into my seat farther, when he shifts again. I watch the speedometer from my peripheral. Forty… Fifty… Sixty… Sixty-five…

  “Can you slow down?”

  He turns his head toward me and smiles. “Scared of a little fast fun?”

  My heart starts to race, and my hands sweat. “I’m serious, Six. Slow down.”

  He huffs with a smirk, then lets his foot off the gas and moves the stick into the right gear. “Sorry. I forgot you are scared. I mean, at least I would be if I was you, after everything that happened with Willow.”

  I snap my head toward him. “Fuck you.” It comes out in a weak whisper.

  The smile slips from his face and is replaced with a grimace. “We have three weeks until your birthday which means we need to do this before then. If shit goes south, maybe you can act sweet enough and they’ll let you off as a child and not try you as an adult.”

  I let out a barking laugh. “You motherfucker. Is that why you want my help? Because you know what I’ve done in the past?”

  “Yes and no. Your past is a factor, but not for the reason you think,” he says.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m sure everyone focused on your charges, focused on you being a felon at thirteen years old, but not me. I read on. I know it was an accident, and I know you fought like hell to save her.”

  Tears swell in my eyes, but I won’t let them fall. “I did,” I say wea
kly.

  He nods. “That’s why I want your help. I know you won’t give up once you know what’s at stake.”

  “And what’s at stake?”

  He looks to me again and smiles, then focuses back on the road. “Don’t worry about that right now.”

  I let any further questions die on my tongue when I look out the windshield. We are pulling up across from a small brown house that has bicycles lying in the yard, a vicious-looking dog tied to a tree, and beat-up cars parked in the drive.

  “This”—he motions to the house—“is what we are doing. The Stones live here.”

  I survey everything again. The beat-up cars are riddled with bullet holes, the bikes in the yard are rusty, and the dog seems malnourished. “You… You lived here?”

  He doesn’t reply. Instead he just nods.

  It’s crazy to think that Six—tall, well-dressed, sexy Six—once lived here. But it isn’t surprising. Hell, I’ve lived in places that looked far worse; this isn’t the first trap house I’ve seen.

  “You see that window?” he asks, pointing at the window on the far-left side that has strips of duct tape covering cracks.

  I nod and look back to him.

  “That’s where the last thing I need is. At least at this moment it is.”

  I look back to the window and notice the delicate pink curtains hanging in it. Since the sun is setting and the light is on, I can see a small figure moving around the room. It’s a little girl with her hair flowing behind her as she walks. She spins in circles with something in her hand; then a bigger figure appears and slaps her, sending her tumbling to the ground, out of my view. The light being flipped off is the last thing I see.

  “Is she your sister?” I ask Six. “Is she what’s at stake?” I turn back to him and wait for a reply.

  He nods, then bites his bottom lip, hard, and releases it. A small red drop of blood lingers where his teeth bit in. He doesn’t wipe or lick it away; he just lets it swell bigger, then roll down his chin.

  Without thinking, I reach out and swipe it away with my thumb. His eyes never leave mine with the motion. “How old is she?” I breathe.

  “Ten,” he whispers.

  “What’s her name?” I squeeze my eyes shut and try to block out all the horrible thoughts. What if someone like Mr. Barbie visits her? Do they always hit her? No, no, no. I push them all away.

  “Halley.”

  “Halley,” I repeat. “Okay… It looks like we’ll be saving Halley. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

  He nods again. “Thank you.”

  I return his nod, then stare back at the window. The light is still off, and we are too far away to hear anything, but that doesn’t stop the thoughts. No matter what it takes, I’m helping Six get her out of there.

  I look back to Six and see him bringing a cigarette to his lips. As he lights it, I let my eyes trace the faint pink line from leftover blood, running from his lips to his chin. The engine revving pulls me out of my thoughts and makes me focus my eyes back to his. With the cigarette dangling from his lips, and one hand on the steering wheel and the other of the gear shift, he turns back to the windshield. “I need a drink” is all he says before he hits the gas.

  Six slows the car in front of the house I first met him at—his house. The iron gate is more intimidating in the light. It stands tall and unmoving and seems to grow the closer we get. Six creeps through the gate, then kills the car’s loud rumble.

  “Come on,” he says, emotionless, before climbing out of the car.

  I push open the door and bump it with my hip, closing it behind me. I sprint up behind Six, then fall in a slow walk behind him as he opens the front door. We pass the threshold and he continues, but I slow even more and take in the surroundings.

  Since there are no people, I can see everything more clearly. The stairs in the corner have the same black iron lining them as the gate, and the floors seem even more shiny with the dim sun bouncing off them, but everything is empty.

  An echo erupts throughout the house as I let the big wooden door fall closed behind me. “You coming?” Six shouts from the kitchen.

  I shake away the eerie feeling slinking into my body and glide into the kitchen. Six is propped on a barstool at the counter, pouring amber liquid from a clear glass bottle into a cup.

  “Hard shit, huh?” I ask.

  He chuckles, showing off his white and slightly crooked teeth, but he doesn’t answer. He grabs the glass and brings it to his lips before throwing his head back and letting every last drop of liquid fall into his mouth.

  I stand stock-still and just watch him as he sets the glass down. Maybe it’s weird, but I don’t care. There is something about him that fascinates me, makes me want to know more and ask questions, but I don’t. Nothing good ever comes from people like Six. He’s gorgeous, an asshole, and deep down, I know he’s broken. And broken people don’t mesh well together.

  He reaches behind him and tugs the top of his shirt, pulling it over his head, then throws it to the floor. My eyes narrow in on his chest and scan over his nipples, noticing the small silver bar in the right one. I let my eyes linger for a second, then trail them down to his waist and back up.

  My eyes meet his brown ones, and before I can speak or break the contact, he grins his wicked grin. “Like what you see, sugar?”

  I roll my eyes and will my body not to betray me by turning my cheeks pink. “Whatever,” I mumble.

  He lets out another chuckle before unbuckling his pants and letting them fall. This time, I don’t stare. I avert my eyes across the room. “Any particular reason you’re getting naked?”

  “Well, it isn’t for you, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m going swimming.” I can hear the smile in his tone.

  “Ha,” I bark out sarcastically.

  He walks to the back door, in nothing but some black briefs, and opens it. I follow him and stop once I see the pool. It stretches almost the whole length of the backyard. Just a single, Olympic-sized rectangle full of crystal-clear water.

  Six wastes no time and jumps in. I shake my head and walk to the edge, plop down, and slip my Chucks from my feet. I dangle them in the cool water and close my eyes, listening to the small splashing of Six swimming.

  “She isn’t really my sister.”

  I open my eyes and see Six floating in front of me. “What?”

  “She isn’t my sister—not biologically anyway. She’s a Stone. The youngest Stone.”

  I mull over what he’s saying for a moment. “So, you want to help someone who is a part of the family that wronged you or whatever?” I ask, waving my hand around.

  “I do,” he says flatly. “She doesn’t deserve the life they’re making her live, and she doesn’t want it.”

  “What do they make her do?” I ask. But I’m sure I already know the answer.

  Six just shakes his head and swims away, letting me get lost in my thoughts and questions.

  After Six brought me home last night, I crashed and crashed hard. He didn’t speak another word to me for the next hour we were at his house, or on the drive home. He just let me fester with my thoughts.

  So, Halley isn’t his sister. She’s just someone he feels the need to protect and wants to help her, and I don’t blame him. I’ve been in her position. I’ve lived with shitty people. Only difference is, I’ve always gotten away. Halley doesn’t have that option. Somehow the Stones can fly under the system’s radar. It’s ridiculous, but it isn’t very far-fetched. A lot of foster families, or even regular families, know how to play the system in their favor.

  I fall onto my bed and look at the screen on my phone. Almost 8:00 p.m. It’s been almost twenty-four hours since Six dropped me off, and I still haven’t heard from him. I try to push the thoughts of him away, and click the Spotify app, letting the music play from my “SIX” playlist. I’m not sure why, but I feel I kind of miss him. His smart remarks, gorgeous ripped body, and his eyes…

  “Seriously, Sonni?” I mumble to
myself.

  I’ve always kept to myself. After everything with Ryan, I can’t bring myself to be with anyone else. I didn’t love Ryan, not by a long shot. I was only with him because he could buy me cigarettes and had a car. I guess that’s one perk to being pretty. He was sixteen and I was only thirteen, but I didn’t care. I ignored everyone who said it wasn’t right. I used him for my own gain.

  Then that Halloween came, and everything changed. I lost Willow, my only real friend. I was driving Ryan’s car because watching him and his friend Nathan work on another car was boring. Willow came over and we convinced him to let me drive around the block. We went three times before—

  “Hey, Sonni.” Alex smiles from the doorway, dragging me back to the present.

  Jumping from my bed, I hit my phone and silence the music. “Oh. Hey.”

  She raises one eyebrow at me. “You okay?”

  “Yep.”

  She shakes her head with a grin. “When did you get a phone?”

  Before my mind can catch up, I blurt out, “Six. Silas—whatever the fuck you want to call him—got it for me.”

  “Really?” Her eyes widen.

  So much for keeping shit a secret, Sonni. I let out a deep breath and sit back onto my bed. “Yeah. I’m… helping him with something. The phone is part of my payment.”

  She purses her lips. “Payment, huh?”

  “Whoa. Not like that. I’m not some prostitute,” I laugh.

  Once the words leave my mouth, I take a good look at Alex. She has on a new pair of Nike tennis shoes, fresh, clean and stain-free clothes, with a Nordstrom bag clutched in her hand.

  “Shopping? How?” I barely made enough money panhandling for food, and here Alex is with fresh new everything.

  She lets out a small chuckle. “I’m some prostitute or something.”

  “Wait.” I wave my hand around and sit up straighter. “You’re joking right?”

  “You and me both know, with the life we have, we have to do what we have to do. I’m eighteen now, Sonni. I’m just waiting for the day that Gloria tells me my time is up and I have to go. I have no job experience, so no one wants to hire me, but I can’t get job experience without a job.”