4. Teddy
FOUR
TEDDY
The old brick building before me is nothing special. All of the windows are shuttered and opaque with age and grime, the one entrance on the street nothing more than a dented metal door. To the right is an alley, and to the left, the building extends and morphs into other seedy businesses. An adult toy shop. A strip club. A dive bar with a flickering neon sign that says ‘Joe’s Place.’
I check the address Dick scribbled on a piece of paper again. Elm street. How ironic. It’s nearly five in the evening, the bus ride from Prep to this shithole taking that long. It’s here I am resigned to whittle my life away for the foreseeable future. Whatever is behind those doors isn’t good. Dick is hellbent on punishing me for existing, and so with a heavy sigh, I jog across the empty street and pound my fist against the cool metal.
As sunny as today was, and as warm as holding Eden made me feel, it’s all vanquished in the threat of this unknown monster. The only upside I’ve seen so far is that this would be a prime location to pluck nasty, deserving victims from the streets. It’s close to the water, so carving them up and dumping their bloody bits into the Puget Sound would be a breeze.
The door creaks on rusted hinges, depthless darkness greeting me through the crack that slowly widens, revealing a skeletal face devoid of emotion. His eyes are sunken deep into his skull, his cheekbones prominent, his head bald. Ringing those searching, gray eyes is charcoal liner, the older man reminiscent of a washed up rockstar.
“You must be Teddy,” he says, voice rough from decades of smoking, a faint London accent nestled there.
Turning to glance over my shoulder, I look back at him with a smirk. “The one and only.”
My smile fades when he gives no reaction in return, his expression as still as a corpse, adding to the entire vibe of him.
“I give it six months,” he rattles, opening the door another crack wider for me to slip through. I slink into the darkness, the reverberating thud of metal against stone shaking my frame. We stand in that never ending darkness at the top of a set of stairs as my eyes adjust. To the right, a wall, and the left, an empty, dimly lit hallway. Slivers of pale sunlight streak through those grimy windows, millions of dust motes floating past.
“What, my job?” I ask, returning my gaze to his. We stand eye to eye, and something sinister and familiar flickers back at me through that unrelenting stare. After a heavy moment that has all oxygen squeezing from my lungs, he answers me coldly.
“Your humor.”
He turns for the hall with an uneven gait, and I follow, unsure of what else to do whilst annoyed I’m here. I should be at Cash’s, pestering him to go and find Eden with me.
“Name’s Vic,” he calls over his protruding shoulder bone. “I’ll be your handler, but you need to meet Danny Boy first.”
“Joy,” I mutter. Anything related to Richard Bird is automatically detestable to me. I’m sure his son will be just as vile, but hopefully not as cunning.
“What’s he like?” I ask to his back as we near the end of the hall. Doors line either side, each one sporting a rusted padlock. Although I’m not one to shy away from the dark and macabre, those doors and locks and all they stand for have unease creeping along my spine and sinking its teeth in.
Vic snorts, pausing next to a door on the left. He turns, his eyes now holding within them a keen sort of interest. “See for yourself, kid.”
He pushes the door open with a splayed hand, and I peer around the corner into a dank, makeshift office. Old furniture litters the space, along with a dusty desk and a crumbling fireplace. In the middle, two high backed Victorian chairs rest, a chess board nestled between them. Dick occupies one chair, and his spitting image—though twenty years younger—sits in the other.
Glancing at Vic, I salute him solemnly and step inside, eyes catching on the board. Daniel reaches for a knight, and before he even moves the piece, I know he’s just lost the game. He glances up, boyish hope flittering in his pale blue eyes as he looks upon his father. Dick’s smile is slow to curl on his face.
“That was a shitty move,” I say. Daniel’s eyes snap to mine, annoyance written all over his features. With a heavy sigh, Dick stands and straightens the lapels of his jacket. Red ink dots his thumb and forefinger. I have to wonder what poor students he’s failing now, right at the end of the school year. His eyes find mine from behind aged glasses, and the door sweeps closed, Vic disappearing like a ghost.
“Teddy, the brains I always wanted for my sons.”
Daniel stands, jaw slackened in anger. I can’t help but to smirk at him. Poor little boy never received all of daddy’s love, it seems. I would detest any fond emotions Dick foisted upon me, but seeing his son so disgruntled over that comment is comical to me.
“Keep him on a short leash, or I’ll be forced to step in, understood?” Dick says. It’s Daniel’s turn to smirk at me. I have a feeling I’ll be scraping shit off of toilet seats and changing out urinal cakes for the time being. All Dick let me know was that this was some sort of adult entertainment joint. My guess is that it’s some sort of strip club…where the dancers give more private dances.
If I have to clean jizz from the couches, I’ll gouge Daniel’s eyes out and force him to eat them.
“Of course, father.”
I have to bite my tongue, lest I copy and mimic this childish fucker.
“And Teddy, not a word to Tara, are we clear?”
Tara . Hearing my mother’s name on his fetid tongue makes me want to vomit. Swallowing down my nasty retorts, I hold his gaze and nod. “Crystal.”
He gives me a lingering look meant to intimidate, and then leaves wordlessly. It’s far colder in his absence, and I let my eyes wander around the space, committing it to memory. “What move would you have made?”
My eyes snap back to Daniel’s like a rubber band. He’s genuinely curious. Tilting my head to the chess board, I say, “Your queen was in position to take that bishop, then he would’ve been fucked. It was a risk he took because he knew you wouldn’t see it.”
His eyes trace the board, and he slowly bobs his head as though he understands.
“How old are you?”
Strange question.
“Eighteen,” I say, sizing him up in case he likes little boys as much as his father does. He’d be an easy kill, but the ramifications wouldn’t be worth it. My mother’s life hangs precariously in the balance, always. If it were just me, all of these sick fucks would already be dead. As it stands, I have to be careful with my impulses and reactions.
He nods again, crossing his arms, his suit old but tailored. “You’ll do whatever Vic tells you to do. We need a backup circus master, since the fuck is as old as dirt.”
And about two steps away from being buried in it.
“Circus master?” I parrot, confused. Where the fuck did my assumptions go wrong? But a slow, snakelike smile forms on his lips as he nods.
“Yes.”
My brows raise, relief washing over me.
“So where are the abused elephants and dancing bears?” I ask, motioning around the office.
“No animals of that sort.”
My stomach twists.
“Then, what?—”
A sharp knock interrupts my question.
“Come in,” Daniel calls, eyes still lingering on my face. It’s beginning to creep me out, and I’m usually the one doing the creeping out. Following his gaze, I peer over my shoulder, met once again with Vic’s somber eyes. He points behind him with his knobby thumb.
“Your prized performer needs to speak with you.”
Daniel releases a disgusted sigh. “Send her in.”
But when Vic steps away, the unmistakable violet eyes of Eden Clemm clash with mine.