Lia
Eighteen years old
“You!”
I stare up at the man I thought I’d never see again. He’s a ghost, that’s what he is, only he doesn’t look anything like one, with his tan skin and close-cropped brown curls.
Two years have certainly changed him. He’s packed on about twenty pounds of pure muscle, and the cute boy I used to insult and secretly yearn for has been replaced by someone who can only be described as… hot.
Hot, and incredibly dangerous. There’s no softness in his eyes as he grips my arm, pulling me to my feet.
I know better than to protest at the rough treatment.
I’ve memorized his threat over the years, and seeing him now does nothing but further convince me that he has every intention of carrying through with it.
Please, throw me to the dogs, Carmelo. Throw me to the fucking dogs. Anything, as long as it means not getting killed at the hands of the boy who makes my heart hurt.
Logan doesn’t breathe a word as he half-pulls, half-drags me through the shrubbery back to the main road.
He doesn’t even seem to notice the child in my arms. And after a single, whispered mama, Aurora stays quiet.
Maybe she has a better sense of self-preservation than I do.
I sure hope she fucking does, because she’s going to need it.
By the time we reach the car parked on the side of the road, my shoes have entirely fallen apart, and my feet are bleeding.
But I don’t make a sound as he opens the car door and practically throws me inside, then climbs in after me.
A strangled sound does escape me when he sits beside me, and I find myself squeezed between him and a murderous-looking thug on the other side.
I recognize the thug. One of Carmelo’s hangers-on, always ready to do his bidding,
I can’t count the number of times one of them has backhanded me for failing to serve them a beer fast enough, or for talking back. I’ve spent much of the past two years protecting Aurora from them.
They’re dangerous. Very dangerous.
But no one is more dangerous than the man who found me, who seems to be breathing cruelty from his every pore.
I’m too scared to even glance up at him, and search his eyes for a sign of the old softness. I know I wouldn’t find it anyway.
I squeeze my Aurora to my chest, keeping my eyes trained to the ground, my mouth forming a silent prayer.
Please don’t hurt her… Please don’t hurt her… Please don’t hurt her…
“Well, well, well,” chuckles the thug to my left. “What’s with the runaway bride gag?”
I keep my head and eyes down, focusing on Aurora in my arms to keep myself from losing it.
I am not going to let them see me cry. I am not going to let them see me cry.
I guess I do have some pride left, where Logan is concerned.
The latter doesn’t say a word, just stares out the window as Carmelo’s gang continues to taunt me.
“Hasn’t Carmelo been treating you well, princess? Why’d you want to run out on him? Huh? Cat got your tongue?”
“Guys,” cuts in Logan at last, and my heartbeat picks up as I wonder if he’s going to stand up for me.
Could some part of him still care?
The quick surge of hope makes it hurt all the more when he adds, “We have a job to do. So let’s just fucking do it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” grunts one of them.
My body is so tense and alert that I practically jump when the car stops and Logan wraps a hand around my arm again to pull me up.
If I’d thought he was rough in seventh grade when he guided me through the Oakley streets, it’s nothing compared to the way he squeezes me now, shoving me up so hard into a standing position that I nearly let go of Aurora.
“Careful there,” admonishes someone from the front seat, and for the first time, I notice Everest Grant was the one driving. “She’s got a kid in her arms.”
Another tiny pinprick of hope, because I know Everest, at least, isn’t an asshole.
But then, I remember just how much of a useless follower he is when Logan growls, “Shut up,” and he does.
“Don’t give a fuck about the kid,” he adds.
The words send me hurtling out of my self-pitying gloom, as I read the threat behind them.
Carmelo may never have shown the least sign that he cares about his daughter, but she is his progeny.
If Logan is the one to decide her fate, though…
Panic strangles me as I stumble after him blindly. I barely have time to notice we’re back in Oakley before he’s dragging me into a building, up a staircase, and through two cramped rooms.
The minute we’ve reached the second one, I fall to his feet.
“Please, Logan,” I choke out. “Please… please… if you ever cared about me… please…”
I can sense him taking a step back.
No, no, no. Wait. Listen. Don’t leave!
“Please, my daughter… please… just look at her… look how innocent and helpless she is…”
“Get that fucking thing away from me!” he snarls, and a moment later, he’s slamming the door shut.
_
Well, at least neither of us is dead. Yet.
I’m left alone in the small room, and little by little, as my eyes take in the musty bed, with its two side tables and the lamps on them, the cracked TV on the other side, and two paintings of flowers hung on the wall, I come to the conclusion that we’re at the Oakley Motel.
It’s the only place of its kind in Oakley, and I’ve always wondered at its existence, because who in their right mind would choose to vacation in this hellish town? Let alone pay for the privilege?
After a few minutes, I allow myself to relax just enough to sit down on the bed, slightly loosening my hold on Aurora. She gazes up at me with her in-focus blue-green eye.
“Hi, baby,” I murmur. “Everything’s okay. See? We’re going to stay here. Isn’t it nice?”
I croon sweet little lies into my shivering girl’s ears, until at last she relaxes, visibly reassured.
“Mama,” she complains. “Hungry. Hungry, mama.”
Fuck. Of course she is. She hasn’t had a thing to eat in hours. Not since we left this morning at the break of dawn. My little girl is starving, and I need to do something about it.
Neither of us is dead, I remind myself. If they wanted to kill us, they would have. If they’re planning to, they will. Nothing I do or say can possibly change that.
It’s not a particularly happy thought, and yet, it reassures me enough that I make up my mind to open the door.
I slowly stand up again, still clutching my daughter. I think I’ll be holding her for the rest of my life. The past few days have fucked with my mind enough that the thought of being separated from her by even a few feet sends panic to my chest.
Gingerly, I cross the room, hesitating as I put my hand on the doorknob. Here goes. I open the door, expecting to find myself face to face with… well, I have no idea who. Someone who’s bad news, that’s for sure.
Instead, I take in Logan’s hanger-on friend Everest. He blinks at me tiredly from the chair in the corner of the room, a few feet away from the bed.
“Hey, Lia,” he smiles. “How’s it going?”
Uhm… how do you fucking think?
“Can I help you?” he adds, as if his friend didn’t just hunt me down with a gun for the purpose of what I can only assume is to kill me.
“Everest,” I breathe, “hi.”
If anyone hates me, it must be this guy.
I’ve never had a real problem with him, and yet, he was the only one in Logan’s crew who couldn’t fight back.
I guess I took out all my frustration with Logan on him.
I may have started a rumor or two that he was gay, and in a shitty place like Oakley, if anyone finds out you’re gay, you’re pretty much dead.
He probably would be, if Logan and the others hadn’t looked out for him.
I don’t know what exactly he is—gay, or asexual, or aromantic, or some combination of all three—but I’ve never seen him spare so much as a glance at a girl.
For some reason, as I stare at him, those thoughts hurtle through my mind, and I suddenly realize with disgust that I’m wondering what exactly I need to do to convince him to let me go.
What the hell is wrong with me? I’m not a fucking whore.
It’s pointless anyway. Everest is literally a Ken Doll. Dickless. Spineless. Uninterested. He looks at me like I’m a fucking hole in the drywall. A bland, unfortunate problem that he feels passingly bad about having helped to create, but that he definitely is not planning to fix.
“Can I help you?” he repeats. “Do you need anything?”
Yes. To get the hell away from here, from Logan, and from Carmelo Moretti.
Instead, I mumble, “My daughter’s hungry.”
“Of course she is.” Everest looks the picture of contrition, exactly like a guy who decides to apply a thin layer of paint to his fucked-up wall and call it a day.
“Hold on, I’ll see what I can scrounge up.
Or, wait. I’m not supposed to leave this room.
Sorry. I’ll see if one of the guys is around. ”
He gives me an apologetic grin, then stands up, running a hand through his Ken-doll hair, before popping open the door that leads to the hallway.
“Hey, man,” he says. “Can you see about getting some food for Lia and her kid?”
I hadn’t even thought about myself, but as he speaks, I realize how famished I am.
There’s a grunt on the other side of the door, and then I see a thug’s blunt profile as he leans in to say a few words.
Moments later Everest returns to his seat, once again smiling apologetically as he closes the door behind him. “Someone will be along with something soon. Sorry about that.”
“Sorry about what?” I ask, sitting down on the bed opposite him. I have no idea why the hell I’m not returning to my room. That would probably be the smart thing to do. But it feels good to talk to someone.
“Sorry about the food, of course,” he smiles. “I should have known you were hungry.”
“Hunger is probably the least of my problems right now,” I try to joke. “It doesn’t exactly matter in the afterlife, right?”
“Uhm.” He stares at me with an expression I can’t quite make out. Pity? Guilt? Confusion?
Yes, that’s the one. But I guess it tracks. There’s no way Logan would ever let him in on whatever he’s planning. The only reason they’re friends in the first place is so Logan can protect him… from people like me.
It’s an odd thing to realize your future executioner has more integrity than you.
“Mama,” says Aurora insistently. “Hungry. Milk, mama! Milk!”
Clearly she feels calm around Everest. I lower my mouth to her ear and whisper, “Wait, baby. You’re going to eat very—”
But before I have time to finish my sentence, the door opens again, and I let out an audible gasp. It’s Logan, and he spares me a single glance before looking at Everest furiously.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
I shrink back, but Everest just shrugs. “What’s the big deal? Take a chill pill, man.”
“She stays in her room,” he growls.
“Stop being so dramatic. We’re just chatting. So what? No reason to lock her up. She’s not a wild animal.”
“Oh, yeah?” Logan lets out a cold laugh. “She’s a fucking snake. Get her back to her room, Everest.”
“You get her back to her room,” snaps Everest. “I’m not moving my ass from this chair.”
Spewing a string of curse words under his breath, Logan walks over to me and grabs me by the hair, pulling me up viciously. Aurora has fallen silent in my arms, quaking against me. Which angers me.
Before I know it, I’m swearing right back at him. “Fuck you. Let me go.”
He only wraps his hand tighter around my locks. “Don’t you fucking open your mouth. I don’t ever want to hear your voice again.”
“Well, lucky you! I guess your wish is gonna come true soon.”
He pauses in his movement of dragging me back to my bedroom. “What do you mean?”
“Huh?”
“What the fuck are you talking about, Lia?” My name on his tongue makes the old lump suddenly rise up in my throat. “Lia. Answer me.”
He lets go of my hair to grab my arm and give me a rough shake. I struggle to get out of his grasp, even though I know resisting him is even more useless than it was all those years ago. There’s just no way my strength could ever measure up to his.
“You gonna try to run away, Lia? Or are you telling me you’re fucking suicidal?”
My mouth hangs open at the unexpected question. “Uhm. I was referring to the fact that you’re going to kill me.”
His features harden. “Kill you? What are you talking about?”
“Why would you have hunted me down, if it wasn’t to kill me?” I stare at him in utter confusion. “Isn’t that what you’re going to do to me?”
His face is impassive, and yet his eyes go from anger to shock, back to anger again. “You’re a real drama queen, do you know that? What are you trying to do, make me feel sorry for you? You’re not a victim, Lia. Get the fuck over yourself.”
“Okay.” I blink fast, feeling Aurora stir in my arms. I can take his insults, as long as the meaning behind those words is that she’s safe. “So what are you going to do to me?”
“I’m bringing you back to Carmelo.”
Oh.
I guess that prospect is a little better than getting killed by Logan. But I’m not particularly looking forward to getting torn apart by dogs.
Still, for the moment, I allow myself to be thankful for small things. Like the plastic bag of food that Logan tosses on the bed.
“Eat,” he grumbles. “And if you take one step out of this room again, I might just take you up on that killing thing.”
Then he slams the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in my prison, with my little girl in my arms.