by P Mulholland
“Had another fight with the wife?” he spat.
“I’m in no mood for your wisecracks, Corey.”
He took a long pull on his cigarette and pointed to the couch for me to sit. I preferred to stand.
“How’s O’Neal?”
“Battered.”
Corey grunted and swore under his breath. “You’ve fallen for her haven’t you? Fucken loser. Is that why you’re here, Elmer? Need some advice on how to make her stay? She won’t, you know. If she didn’t stay for the Bear, she won’t stay for you.”
A long-legged brunette appeared from the hallway wearing nothing but a white buttoned shirt, probably Corey’s. It took me a moment to recognize her. It was the secretary that caught his eye when she walked past my glass wall that day. She’s probably new and didn’t know he’s an utter rake. She placed her hand on his shoulder and he turned around and smacked her ass. If I did that to Brydie, she’d slap me back, probably on the face. Like when Farrah slapped Malone. Jeez! I wish I recorded that moment to replay to an audience to humiliate the asshole.
“Sweetheart,” I said to the secretary, or whatever she is, “can you take a hike? This is private business.”
“Is that you, Jake?” she asked. “My friend wants to meet you.”
“Not interested.”
“Hun, can you give us some space?” Corey said softly to her, kissing her affectionately on the cheek.
“Do you know her name?” I asked, while she was still in earshot. I couldn’t care less about some idiot chick who was stupid enough to believe that she meant something to Corey.
“What’s got you all cut up, Elmer?”
I waited until the secretary was out of sight before I asked, “What’s the name of the Costa Rican minister that Malone sent the heavies to threaten?”
He immediately hushed me and glanced behind to see where the brunette was.
“Don’t worry, I waited until she scurried back to her cave before I spoke.”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“Just give me the name.”
He took a seat on the couch and examined my face. “You’re seriously in love with her, aren’t you?”
“Give me the fucking name.”
“Tell me why.”
“’Cos it’s the reason my roommate got beaten up! It’s the reason some fucker punched her in the face until she fell unconscious. It’s the reason why her arm and ribs are broken, and why she’s too fucking scared to leave the house. So give me the fucking name!”
“Is everything alright here?” The brunette reappeared.
“Fuck off!” I hissed at her. “Before I throw you out this fucking apartment wearing nothing but that shirt on your back.”
“Hun, go back to the bedroom,” Corey instructed her. “And don’t come back out until I tell you to.”
Corey took another pull on his cigarette, his eyes fixed onto my face. “Garcia or Estrada, or something.”
“Estrada. So she was right.”
“Right about what?”
“The heavies that beat Brydes to a pulp were hired by Estrada.”
“You got proof?”
“She heard the heavies say his name.”
“Is she sure? The Malones probably have several factions that want to clobber their skulls in.”
I rubbed my eyes with my fingers, trying to contain my anger. “You don’t know what it’s like seeing her every day, knowing that I could’ve stopped this from happening.”
“How?”
“When the rat in the box turned up and the red cross was painted on Malone’s door, they were warnings. She told me about them. I should’ve put my foot down and stopped her going to work.”
“Put your foot down? Jake, you’re not her father. You’re not even her boyfriend. You can’t stop O’Neal from doing anything. Besides, she has debts to pay.”
“Don’t give me that shit. You’re all just a bunch of fuckers having fun playing a little taunting game. I don’t get it. Why her? Why do you all hate her so much?”
“No one hates her.”
“Then why? She was imprisoned in South America and you want to punish her for it. Why? Hasn’t she been punished enough? You should hear the screaming in the middle of the night ’cos of some shit that went down in the prison that gives her nightmares. And you and Malone take pleasure in rubbing more salt into that wound, while sniggering behind her back. She hasn’t even done anything wrong.”
“Book her in with a shrink.”
I had to use every ounce of strength in my body not to step over there and punch my brother’s face.
“This is all your fault, Elmer.”
“’Cos I got drunk and had an accident. Now she has to suffer for it.”
“No, ’cos you tarnished the Austin name again.”
“Leave Brydie out of it. My drinking problem has nothing to do with her.”
“Isn’t that the first step to recovery? Admitting that you have a problem? Sounds like progress.” He relaxed into the couch cushions. “When was the last time you drank?”
“I think you know when,” I spat.
“The day after rehab?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So, it’s now been weeks since you’ve had a drink?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. The plan is working. Seeing O’Neal suffer stops you from drinking.”
I had nothing to say to that. He was right; it was working to a degree. As we moved closer to the end of the babysitting gig, I longed to drink so another month could be tacked on. But that also meant she’d have her allowance cut even more and probably something else taken from her. She’d hate me for it and hate was the last emotion in the entire universe that I wanted from Brydie O’Neal.
“She’s such a beautiful person, inside and out. It’s not easy being a bystander to her torture.”
“Jeez! You have got it bad for her. Have you slept with her yet?”
“Do you know where Malone lives?”
“Which one?”
“Leon.”
“Why? You gonna pay him a visit? Threaten the mob with your twenty one year old ass?”
“I want to ask him what happened on Friday night. Why he left Brydie to die up in his office.”
He frowned. “Sounds a little dramatic, Elmer. You might need to get your facts straight.”
“What do you know about it?”
He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray resting on the ottoman. “I heard he made a deal with them to leave her alone. One of the heavies had the hots for her.”
“Who told you that?”
“Red. Conversation with Isaac.”
“So, you do know more than you’re letting on. Malone wants his son to look like a hero, yeah?”
He shook his head. “That’s all I know. I didn’t know the heavies were sent from Costa Rica. I suspect that’s a small detail Malone would prefer to keep to himself.”
I’d had enough of this conversation. “So, are you going to give me his address?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know it. But I know who does.”
“Who?”
“Our sister.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s not dating him?”
“Stalking him would be the better term for it.”
I turned away from my brother and headed towards the door. “It’s because she’s unobtainable!” he called after me.
“Who, Soph?”
“O’Neal. Always slightly out of reach, like the crest of a mountain where you’ll find the best view, yet no matter how hard you try, you can’t reach that point.”
“And they say romance is dead.”
“Even Trews played second fiddle to her fish friends.”
“Maybe he didn’t mind.” I wasn’t going to knock the Bear for standing by Brydie when the shit hit the fan. And then she left him.
“Too wild to tame. Too difficult to control. The only way to keep her is to cage her.”
I slammed the door be
hind me, Corey’s words lingering in the air like tossed razor blades about to fall. Onto me.
Chapter Twenty Six
Jake
Soph: Say hi from me.
Me: No fucking way!!
I pulled up outside Malone’s apartment building.
Somehow, Soph found out where he lived. She also managed to get his personal cell number from somewhere. I must search the payroll to see if she hired a sleuth to dig up dirt on unsuspecting citizens. I needed to talk some sense into her. An Austin stalking a member of the mob was not cool and totally demeaning. She should be dating princes and the sons of senators, not that creep.
I tapped on his door and pressed my ear against it to see if I could hear anyone inside. Footsteps. Then the door swung open and a sullen face looked back at me. His eyes were black like his mother’s, but empty of humor and love. His face was still harboring bruises from Friday night or maybe they were fresh ones, and he wore a bandage over his right knuckles.
“What do you want?”
“I want to know what happened Friday night when you left Brydie up in your office alone.”
“None of your business.”
He was about to close the door in my face when I slipped my foot into the gap to block it. “C’mon Leon, give me a break. I live with her. I’ve seen the damage inside and out. I need an explanation.”
“How did you know where I live?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I would like to know. I didn’t give the Stray my address, so it can’t be her.”
“The Stray? That’s what you call Brydie? Fuck, this is driving me insane. It’s like everyone hates her and I don’t know why. Is there something I’m missing here?”
“It’s a pet name, dumbass. It’s not a criticism.”
“Can you just fill in the gaps of Friday night?”
He flared his nostrils. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll answer one
of your questions, if you answer one of mine.”
“Fine. Deal.”
He opened the door wider and I stepped inside his pad which was exactly the type of place I’d expect Leon to live in. While Corey decorated his walls with movie posters, Leon decorated his walls with motorbike paraphernalia, some with naked chicks stretched across the seats. The only exception was a sepia photograph blown up to poster-size of an impressive Cree chief with the name Pitikwahanapiwiyin. I’d half expected nunchucks and torture devises displayed proudly, like trophies. And maybe the odd gun lying around. The apartment was small, a third of the size of ours but in a good location downtown.
My thoughts switched to Brydie’s apartment in San Diego. I imagined the white washed walls adorned with soothing nature photographs. And color, she’d have plenty of color, turquoise, sky blue and emerald like her eyes.
He pointed at the chair to the side and offered me a can of beer, which was more hospitality than my own brother had offered me.
I pulled the tab on the beer and it fizzed open. The sweet, fermented scent triggered a thirst in me, one I needed to quench immediately. I was about to take a sip when I stopped myself, placing the can back down on the table. “I can’t drink.”
“So close.”
“Were you testing me?”
He shrugged indifferently. “Who gave you my address?”
“Soph.”
“How did she get it?” His tone was steady but a flash of repulsion surfaced on his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived.
I was pleased to see his reaction. That meant he wasn’t going anywhere near her. “My turn. What did you do with Brydie after she was knocked out?”
“I carried her into my office.”
“I think you’ve missed out some important detail.”
“How did your sister get my number and address?”
“I have no idea. Walk me through it, Leon. Brydie gets punched in the face…” His eyes narrowed and a raven scowl emerged. It incensed him thinking about it. “The fucker knocks her out. What happened immediately after that?”
“She lay on the floor while I did a deal with the imbeciles. One of them was keen on her. I had to tempt him with something so he wouldn’t touch her.” My shoulders stiffened while he spoke. I needed to hurt someone for this. I needed to hurt them bad.
“Did it work?”
“Not part of the deal. It’s my turn to ask a question. Do you know a chick called Nadia Le Fevre?”
I paused. “Yeah, that’s Mac’s girlfriend.”
“Got her number?”
“Why… Wait. That’s another question. My turn. Did he leave Brydie alone once the deal was made?”
“Yes. Have you got Le Fevre’s number?”
“No. I don’t make a habit of saving my best friend’s girlfriend’s numbers. I can give you some other chicks’ numbers, if you’re looking for a good time without strings attached. Frat-style, that is.” I was tempted to ask why he wanted her number, but I needed to remain focused. “You made the deal with the perv, then what happened?”
“We took a little drive.”
“And you left Brydie in the office? It didn’t cross your mind to call me?”
“My turn. Does it piss you off?”
“Specifics.”
“Does it piss you off that one day she’ll toss you aside like you’re as important as a slug on the pavement?”
“Slugs still play their role in the circle of life, Leon. So saying they’re unimportant might upset some environmentalists.”
“Answer my question.”
“She hasn’t made a secret of the fact that she is leaving at end of this weird punishment period. I can hardly blame her. Jeez, man! You don’t exactly roll out the red carpet for her, do you?”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Does it piss you off?”
“Is this really about you, Leon? Were you upset when she left originally? How old were you? Thirteen or fourteen? And she disappeared out of your life for years. Must’ve screwed you up. I’m guessing you didn’t have many friends at that age. Maybe she was your only friend.” I paused. “Do you have a crush on your aunt? Seriously? That’s fucked up, Leon.”
“Answer my question.”
“No,” I lied. “I am fully prepared for the fact Brydie O’Neal will walk out of my life forever.”
His face remained unanimated, and his voice stayed smooth the entire conversation. Obviously a man used to dealing with difficult people, including those like me who enjoyed poking at a wasps’ nest. “That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve heard in a while.”
“My turn,” I said. “Do you want to fuck your aunt?”
“No.”
“That’s the biggest bullshit I’ve heard in a while.”
“Conversation’s over,” he said. “I’m done.”
“But I have about a hundred more questions.”
He shrugged and pointed to the door. “Leave.”
I dragged myself to the door, deliberately slowly. “Doesn’t your father pay you enough to get a nicer place?”
“That’s another question. Don’t tell her.”
I turned to look back at him. He was slouched on the couch, clutching a beer can, staring at the TV which was turned off.
“About what?”
“The deal. I don’t want her to know what almost happened. It’ll cut her up on the inside.”
I sighed. “She’s already haunted by bad memories, I’m not planning on adding to them. Did you get him?”
He dragged his eyes away from the chief and stared at me, empty, soulless, scary.
“The fucker that tried to touch her,” I clarified. “Did you hurt him? Make him pay? Or was the deal you struck with him enough to satisfy you?”
“Question time ended one minute ago,” he said.
When I climbed back into my car, I paused to reflect on the conversations I had with Corey and Leon. They had both shone a light on Brydie, but not in a way I expected. I got the distinct impression that they didn’t hate her, but loved her.
They were in love with her. They wanted her caged, because that’s the only way to stop her from running.
It reminded me of people who keep exotic birds and fish, purely to gaze at their beauty. Or idiots who buy tiger cubs purely because they’re an exquisite treat on the eye.
What was becoming more evident was in Brydie O’Neal’s wake was a trail of broken hearts.
And the next broken heart was likely to be mine.
Chapter Twenty Seven
Brydie
He came home late.
I was in bed and expected him to slide in beside me, but he didn’t. The following morning he was aloof, barely looking at me, barely speaking to me and I had no idea why. I asked if he was okay and he just nodded a reply.
We had to go food shopping and I politely asked him if he could help me put my bra on. In silence, he paused to look over me hungrily, before gently maneuvering my bent, fractured arm through the strap, hooking me up in the back. Then he walked away leaving me to wrestle with my tee shirt.
In the store, I was trying to make conversation with him, but he preferred to stare at his phone. I was in a lot of pain and struggled to lift groceries, struggled to do everything. He still came to my aid when I needed him, but slowly, reluctantly. I was wondering if it was getting too much for him. I shouldn’t put this sort of pressure on him. None of this was his fault, yet he was bearing the brunt of it.
Most of all, I felt vulnerable and afraid of who might be lurking around the next bend. I thought I was tougher than this. Heck, I’d been imprisoned twice and swum in tumultuous seas many times. Why did this particular incident cut so deep? Perhaps I was being too impatient. I needed time to heal, emotionally as well as physically. After all, they were nothing but a bunch of jackasses paid to hurt the Malones. I shouldn’t take it personally. It was a simple case of wrong place, wrong time. I can’t let them win. I won’t let them win. With each dawning, I’ll get stronger and braver until no one can keep me down.
