Sixteen
R I V E R
“DO YOU NEED ME to come get you?” the baritone voice says as a greeting through the speaker on my phone. I close my eyes, the temptation taking over.
Say yes, River. Say yes.
“No,” I sigh. My lip finds itself my between my teeth as I gear myself up for what I’m about to ask of him. “I need you to take Bilby.”
Mako’s silent on the other end, ramping up my heart faster. What if he says no? Where would Bilby go? Amelia’s severely allergic to cats, and there’s absolutely no way I’m keeping him in the same house as Ryan anymore. Not after last night. I refuse to put my cat in danger. He means everything to me, and I would never forgive myself if he ended up dead because of my bad choices.
“Bilby?” he repeats finally, confused.
“My cat.”
More silence.
“Did Ryan hurt the cat?”
My eyes close again, embarrassed by the words about to come out of my mouth. “Yes. I can’t endanger his life.”
“But you can your own?” I grit my teeth. Doesn’t matter that I had prepared myself for that before he even said it, it still pisses me off.
“Mako, please,” I say instead, the same desperation from last night creeping in. “I’m not calling you to talk about me. I… I just need Bilby safe right now. Please.”
His low sigh filters through. “Do I need to come get him?”
“No. No, I’ll drop him off before class today.”
“I’ll be there.” My lips curl as tears burn my eyes. I’m not even sure why exactly I’m crying, but the urge is becoming overwhelming. Maybe because I have to give up my cat—temporarily—because he’s no longer safe in the home I brought him into. I feel so ashamed. This is something I’ll never
forgive myself for.
“Mako?”
“Yeah, River?”
“Thank you. So much.”
TWO BEADY EYES INSPECT me from head-to-toe.
“Looks like you’re finally getting what you deserve,” Barbie comments, before curling her wrinkled lips around a cigarette. I ignore her comment considering I’d already wrapped myself in armor to deflect her nasty comments and smugness. Only Barbie would be smug that her daughter is being abused. Especially when this is the life she’s always wanted for me, and I was stupid enough to believe I was getting something she never did—safety.
I glance at the near empty pack resting on the table. Right now, I don’t give a fuck about germs.
“Give me one,” I say instead, nodding my head towards the cigarettes. Surprisingly, she pushes the pack over, along with the lighter. From one abused woman to another, sometimes all we need is a cigarette.
I slide out a cancer stick, light it up and suck greedily.
I’ve no idea if Ryan actually did spike my drinks. Maybe I am pregnant, but right now, I hurt too badly to stop puffing on the cigarette. It’s been a week since he proposed, nearly killed my cat and then promptly beat the shit out of me—again—and he hasn’t let me out of his sight once, until tonight.
Thankfully, I’ve shown no signs of pregnancy yet, so I’m beginning to doubt his threat.
“Did you know Billy was killing people all across the city?” I start. Barbie half-laughs, half- scoffs, the sound filled with flem.
“Whatever gave you the impression that he wasn’t killing people?” she asks with condescension.
I shake my head. “This is different. Billy is smart enough to cover up his murders. He’s deliberately leaving them across town, apparently for the last year. He’s considered a serial killer— they’ve even dubbed him the Ghost Killer.”
Barbie outright laughs, mirth shining in her lifeless eyes. Barbie’s been exposed to several dead bodies across her lifetime. Mostly from overdosing, but I can bet she’s witnessed murders, too.
Probably from cracked out drug addicts having mental breakdowns and going into psychotic rages.
And I’m positive Billy has made an example of a couple people to make sure Barbie stayed in her place.
“That’s too funny,” she says around her laugh, ashing her cigarette in an empty beer can. She used to keep glass ashtrays around until she broke all of them over the heads of her clients. Now it’s just simpler to use trash. There’s a fuck ton of it lying around, after all.
I roll my eyes at her classiness.
“You know that’s not normal for Billy. He’s under the radar, Barbie, and you know it. Why would he be leaving bodies around town?”
Her eyes shift, and something like fear flashes in her eyes. It’s gone before I can tell for sure.
“He’s been getting hooked on meth again,” she says casually. But it’s not casual at all, we both know this. It’s been over fifteen years since Billy got hooked on his own product and started killing off all of his men. He’d storm the house, raging that he has no one left that he can trust because all of them are dead.
Barbie was smart enough not to ask questions. The woman couldn’t tell you what eight times nine is, but she hasn’t lived this long dealing with someone like Billy just by dumb luck. She’s incredibly street smart, even when she’s high off her rocker. So many times, I’ve wondered if Barbie is much wiser than she lets on.
So, Barbie would keep her trap shut, I’d listen through the door, and Billy would vent his frustrations on how all his men kept fucking the little girls he traffics and ruining their value. Or they’d be stealing his drugs or money for themselves. Or they’d give him a look he didn’t like.
Whatever the case, he killed them all. That got Billy in quite the predicament when he had essentially no one to do his bidding. He quit the drugs, rebuilt his empire and stayed clean since.
“I don’t understand. He knows what happened last time.”
Barbie tightens her lips, shrugs a thin shoulder and lights another cigarette. I do the same. I’m gonna need it for this conversation. Billy on meth is… evil incarnate. It’s the reckoning. He’s the third antichrist Nostradamus predicted.
“I don’t know what happened,” she finally says. “Explains why he popped up out of the blue and beat us both silly.”
Both of our wounds from that night have healed, only to be replaced by more. She may cackle and laugh at the sight of me, but she doesn’t look any better. Only difference is, Barbie has never not sported any bruises. That’s her normal. At this point, every part of me has endured some sort of trauma that I’m not sure I know how to feel pain anymore. Guess we’re turning out to be two peas in a fucking pod.
I look down at my hand, with an ugly cast and an uglier ring. I don’t even know why I’m still wearing the damn thing.
“He could come back around at any time,” she continues, snapping me out of my dark thoughts.
Her eyes slide towards me with clear warning. Barbie never warns me about anything except Billy.
Especially Billy on drugs. I don’t let it go to my head and think it’s because she actually gives a shit about me. But if I die, this house will be auctioned off and we all know Barbie doesn’t have the funds to buy it back.
As much as she hates it, I’m keeping her safe from the streets. If anyone could survive it, it would be Barbie. She’s like a goddamn cockroach, the bitch could survive the apocalypse. Doesn’t mean she wants to, though.
“Has he been coming around often?” I ask, though I can feel my heart kickstart. I’m under no illusion that I’m safe here. That Billy coming around won’t ever happen again. But I’d hoped he’d be too busy killing off his men rather than coming to see Barbie’s washed up ass.
She sucks on her cigarette, delaying an answer I’d really like to know. If he’s coming around often, then I’m in more danger than I’d realized.
Finally, she answers. “About once a week. He was just here last night.”
The sudden urge to run from this house nearly cripples me. I got my answers. Or at least as much of an answer as I’m going to get when it comes to the devil. Time to go.
“Then I guess it’s time for me to leave.”
Barbie smirks. I said it casually, but again, this isn’t a casual conversation. She enjoys the fact that Billy scares me. The only good thing about Billy beating me half to death is its less time he’s beating Barbie. As long as he refrains from completely killing me, Barbie couldn’t care less.
“Have fun with your Billy 2.0 at home,” she says, cackling around her cigarette. I stand up and look down at her. She looks and smells like expired milk. How could her words ever hurt me?
Yet they stir something in me anyway. Not hurt. But something like determination.
“Oh, I will.”
“WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING fuck happened to you?” Amelia roars, her face the perfect picture of rage and shock. I could photograph that picture and it’d sell for millions. The amount of emotion conveyed on her face is actually quite beautiful.
“Would you believe me if I said I fell?”
“He’s hitting you?!” she screeches, her little hands reaching up to cup my face. I’m a good few inches taller than Amelia, but her motherly instincts have always made her seem bigger than me. She’s going to be an amazing mother.
“What brought you to that conclusion?” I deflect, deftly removing my face from her warm hands and turning to walk towards my car.
“Oh, no you don’t,” she says, running past me and stopping right in my path. She puts her hands on her hips, her protruding stomach emphasized by her tiny hands, and stares at me with impatience and barely contained rage. Can’t really blame her. I’d kill anyone that did this to Amelia.
I sigh, my shoulders dropping in defeat. “You can’t say anything, Amelia. I… I got him handled.”
Her eyes widen like balloons overflowing with helium. Soon they’re going to pop. That can’t be good for the baby.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way, River, but it sure as hell looks like you’re the only one being handled,” she replies, her voice significantly gentler. I nod my head because she’s right. It doesn’t look like I have Ryan handled at all.
“I have to play this smart,” I say. She bites her lip, seeming to contemplate something.
“I want you to stay with me. You can’t go back to that house.”
I’ve been pretty good at avoiding Ryan since the night he proposed, threatened to kill my cat and raped me within hours of each other. What was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, turned to the darkest far before Ryan got down on one knee.
I bet he’s fucking his secretary as we speak.
“And I plan on doing that… eventually,” I tack on with a pained look. “It’s a delicate situation that needs be handled as such. I don’t want to drag you into this, Amelia. I would rather die than involve you and your unborn baby in any type of danger.”
Amelia chews on her lips some more, looking even more distraught by the second.
She shakes her head. “No. I’m sorry, but I’m not allowing this. There’s no way in fucking hell that I will let you continue to put your life in danger. If you go back, he’ll kill you. And then I’ll be
pregnant in prison.”
I crack a small smile.
“He won’t kill me,” I whisper. I won’t let him. Ryan had to wear a turtleneck to work the last week from how deep and red my marks were from when he raped me. Once they fade, he’ll just spin
it to a night of wild sex and orgasms I clearly couldn’t handle.
“Of course, he won’t. I’ll kill him first,” a deep voice says from behind me. I freeze, which just makes every ache and pain in my body flare to life. My breath shortens, and I swear it’s only because it’s hotter outside than an athlete’s balls after practice.
Amelia’s brows plummet and she bends her torso to the side to see Mako better. “Who are you?” she asks, her voice pitched high. If I didn’t feel like such shit, I’d almost laugh.
Mako steps around me, his massive body dwarfing Amelia’s. She looks up at him awe, her little mouth open in perfect O. Her eyes slowly peruse his incredibly fit body, the tattoos coloring both arms down to his wrists and the pure sexual tension he radiates. I’d be jealous if I knew she wasn’t madly in love with David and carrying his child. I also am not keen on admitting that I’d be jealous.
I glare at Mako’s back as he sticks out a massive hand. My cheeks redden when I think about what those hands could do to me. With him, he’d use them for things that would only excite me, that’s a promise.
“I’m Mako. I’m the nice brother,” he greets. Amelia shakes his hand as if she’s the queen of England and he’s a lowly peasant. Despite my frustration of Mako popping up once again, I smile at Amelia’s sass.
“Uh huh,” she murmurs, unconvinced. The only thing Amelia knows is that I stayed at his house when Ryan was being a shit after Billy beat me within an inch of my life. I hadn’t told her that Mako was the one that came and picked me up after Ryan left me on the couch helpless and took care of me in ways Ryan never has, or about how he’s been keeping Bilby at his house for the past week. I’ve also never told her about all the times Mako has shown up after my classes to convince me to leave Ryan. Certainly didn’t tell her about the library incidences and how I lost all common sense and let Mako get too close. Whatever voodoo that library has on me, it’s dangerous when Mako’s around.
But worst of all, I never told her how sinfully delicious of a man Mako is. Amelia eyes him up and down, both hands now cocked on her rounded hip like a mother scorning her child. She really is
going to be an awesome mother.
I pray I’m around to witness it.
When Amelia’s distrustful eyes slide over to me, I feel like that scorned child. Words don’t need to come out of her mouth in order for me to know she’s hurt. I’ve been lying to her. By omission, but keeping secrets is still lying.
I give her a sheepish smile. “You’s got some s’plainin’ to do,” she sings with a look that says you’re-so-in-trouble.
Mako looks back at me, a sinful smirk on his face. The way he looks at me can only be described as dirty—with his salacious smirk and heated eyes. And with Amelia watching the interaction very intently, it makes me want to wipe the look off his face with a Clorox wipe and then spray him in the eyes with Lysol for good measure.
I clear my throat and look back at Amelia with the most innocent smile I can muster. Which isn’t saying much when nothing about me has ever been innocent.
“Mako here has enlisted himself as my personal knight in shining armor, no matter how much I’ve tried to show him I’m the dragon,” I explain. Amelia cocks an eyebrow.
“Yeah? And how long as he been trying and failing to save you?” she asks, her tone almost condescending. Amelia knows as well as I do that I’ve never been one to accept help. Doesn’t matter if you’re a six-foot-five beast with bear paws for hands, I will drop kick you in the balls if it means you’ll stop trying to save me. Seems I always end up just wanting to fondle his, but the message has at least been said.
“Too long,” I mutter. I’ve yelled in Mako’s face, and even slapped the damn sexy work of art, and alas, he still persists. So, it looks like I’m just going to have to drop kick him in the balls next… and then maybe fondle them.
“River has made it perfectly clear she can take care of herself. Despite her badass abilities, what I’ve made perfectly clear is that I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe. And if you take a look at Exhibit A”—he points to my bruised face— “that hasn’t happened yet.”
I open my mouth to show him the exhibit my foot is about to disappear into when Amelia cuts me off. “Okay children. Clearly this has been going on for a while.” She shoots me a dirty look. “I think it’s clear River is in a tough situation and it’s not always easy to leave right away, no matter how much we want her to.”
My shoulders relax with Amelia’s unexpected understanding. Sometimes I forget Amelia had a rough childhood, too. She grew up with an alcoholic, abusive father. Even after she turned eighteen, she stuck around to try and take care of him until she left for college. To this day, she still struggles with her love for him.
The biggest misconception with survivors of abuse is that they’re making a choice to stay.
Anyone in our situation would leave if it was that easy. But when someone is threatening your life on a daily basis, sometimes staying seems like the safer choice. Even if you know it’ll kill you one day.
The unpredictable abuse is still predictable, and that can be a little less scary than trying to rebuild a life on your own with the constant fear that this person is going to come after you and snatch it away. All that hard work—gone. And sometimes your life, too.
“I’m going to leave you two to work out whatever tension you have going on here. River, I expect a phone call later,” Amelia announces, still eyeing mine and Mako’s odd interaction. How I could be thinking about another man when the current one in my life is using me for a punching bag is beyond both of us. But it’s happening. And I’m not really sure how the hell to stop it.
Or if I want to.
Amelia hugs me goodbye, gives Mako one last onceover and walks towards her car. I pivot towards the most frustrating man I’ve ever met.
“What do you want now?” I whine, taking up Amelia’s position and planting my hands on my hips. It takes several swallows to shove the lump back down my throat when I remember that I could look like Amelia in a few months too. A rounded belly to look down on and haunt me.
His eyes narrow, but nevertheless, he doesn’t sass back. Instead, he stuffs his hands in his pockets and skirts his eyes over campus.
“I just want to help you, River. That’s all,” he says finally.
I cock an eyebrow. “You don’t want to fuck me?”
Emerald green eyes piston towards me, shining like freshly polished gems. The same salacious smirk glides across his beautiful face, and fuck me, if my heart doesn’t stop and speed up all in the same breath.
“I do want to fuck you, and not only do I want to, but I will fuck you,” he says boldly. My heart drops at the promise. I hate that my pussy grows wet in response. But I love it even more. “But that’s not why I want to help you. I can’t woo you and show you what a real man is like if you’re dead.”
Can’t help but respect someone who is as blunt as I am. I tap my foot and purse my lips, contemplating this man’s intentions. Aside from the library incidences, he’s never made any indication that he wants to steal me away for his own personal gain. There’s no denying what he’s done for me. Taking Bilby will always be something I’ll be grateful for. Keeping my cat safe means more to me than I am capable of expressing.
“How’s my baby?” I ask, changing the subject away from me.
“He’s still adjusting. You never said what exactly happened, but I think he’s still recovering.
He’s very… cautious.”
The fact that my loving bundle of fur is now reduced to distrust is heartbreaking. I haven’t gotten the chance to visit him yet, but the second I do, I’m going to shower him with so much love, he won’t know what to do with it.
“He sleeps with me at night, though,” Mako continues, sensing my plummeting mood. “He’s coming around, River. He’s going to be okay.”
I nod my head as I chew on my lip, forever worrying about him. The guilt will never go away.
Mako glances around, my eyes following the same track.
We’re out in the open and Ryan only graduated a few years ago before he left for law school. He was very popular and never let any of his college friends completely go. Many times, Ryan-the-big- shot would meet up with his college buddies on campus or show up to college parties. People know him. They know me. And whether they know Mako or not, they can easily tattle and tell Ryan I’m speaking to another man. A very large, very attractive male. One who keeps looking at me like I’m the
icing he likes to lick off his cupcake.
“I need to go home,” I say instead.
“Let me take you out. Somewhere that’s not a library, as much as I do enjoy those.”
I hate how little consideration I give my answer. “Fine.”
I turn and walk away.
“When?” he calls.
Pivoting, I walk a few steps backwards and say, “You’re good at stalking me. I’m sure you can work out a time and date.” His smile is slow and lazy, sending all kinds of feelings straight to my core before I give him my back once more.
THE FITZGERALD FAME AND fortune could not have affected my life at the worst possible time.
The clerk behind the cash register eyes my purchases and then eyes me. She’s an older, shrewd woman with salt and pepper hair, extra sag with her wrinkles and a curious gleam in her eye. She’s definitely the nosy neighbor type, constantly peeking out her window to spy on people. Good thing she isn’t my neighbor. I’d just open my curtains, pull down my panties, spread my legs wide and give her a show she’d never forget. And I bet she’d never, ever look through my windows again.
“Aren’t you dating Ryan Fitzgerald?” she asks, picking up each box and scanning it. Five of them total.
It’s in my nature to be rude and tell the bat to mind her business. But that little voice in that back of my head—the one I haven’t kicked to the curb yet—still demands I protect Ryan’s reputation. Not
for his benefit, but for mine. If I’m going to get out of this situation alive, then it’d be stupid to poke the bear before I’ve set the trap.
“Yep,” I say with forced cheer. Hopefully she doesn’t see how fake my smile is. Looks like it was about as effective as Botox would be on her crow’s feet.
“I sure hope so if you’ve found yourself in the situation you think you have,” she comments, tapping a few buttons on the touchscreen. “$60.87.”
Goddamn, these are expensive. I insert my card into the slot harder than necessary. She doesn’t miss it, either. Or maybe the nerves in her sag is malfunctioning and she’s not actually giving me a smug little smile.
My transaction finishes up as she bags my items. And now the awkward moment where she waits for the receipt to spew from the machine while I think about stabbing her in the eye with the pen clipped to her work vest. When she hands the receipt over, I give her the sugariest smile I can
manage.
“Thank you so much, ma’am.”
We’re both rolling our eyes when I walk away.
