4. Misely
four
Misely
H e was here. How was he here ? He’d been a plague in my mind for the last year, the guilt that accompanied that fact overwhelming. Tall, broad, and imposing with a steel in his eyes that could kill. The star in my every fantasy, waking or otherwise, and the primary reason I’d sworn off trusting myself to make wise decisions when it came to men. A criminal by every definition. Abusive and neglectful. The exact type of person I made a career out of protecting children from.
Talon MacArthur.
Milo’s older brother’s hand was still pressed tightly over my mouth, his sneering face so close our noses nearly brushed. The grin stretched across his mouth was smug and vile, like a cat who’d just sunken its claws into it’s prey.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, Blondie.” His tone was low and rough, cinnamon breath washing over my face, and eyes jumping with amusement when my brows narrowed at the unwelcome nickname. “I’m going to let you go and you’re going to go sit down on the couch like a good girl. You got me?”
Did I get him? No. What I got was a sick satisfaction at the shocked gasp he gave when my teeth sunk into his calloused palm, leaving me with the faintest taste of salt and… was that motor oil? The thrill was short lived because the next time his hand shot out, it wasn’t to cover my mouth. The back of his hand hit the side of my face with such an impact that the sound echoed off the still barren walls of my apartment, my body flying backward into the sofa from the force of it. It took several moments for the pain to register, but when it did, I didn’t cry. I palmed my cheek, willing the throb away without luck, but it didn’t matter. My fight or flight had kicked in and before either of us could blink, I was diving across the floor to where I’d dropped my phone only a few minutes before.
As soon as I held it, I was threatening him, my voice hardly wavering. “Get out, I am calling the police!”
It had been my mistake to put my back to him. A firm grip latched onto my ankle, pulling me on my stomach across the cheap rug. Talon was chuckling as I kicked out at him, trying my damnedest to unlock the device in my hand and dial 911, but he was faster and stronger, his giant body straddling mine and pinning me to the floor.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Blondie. You really need to take some self-defense classes.” His breath was hot in my ear, making me shiver. “That was too easy.” The phone was plucked from my outstretched hand, and I withheld the sob that clogged in my throat. I could scream, I thought, loud enough to get the attention of the neighbors. I sucked in a breath, ready to do just that, but Talon’s next words stopped me just short of the sound leaving my lips.
“If you value your mother’s life in the slightest, you will shut that pretty mouth of yours and listen.” He was cold and brutal in his delivery and my entire body went still.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I hissed, jerking up in a very sad attempt at bucking him off me. It was a wasted effort. The man was a behemoth.
“I’m talking about the fact that if you don’t help me, your mother could be in very real trouble.” His hand was gripping the back of my neck, keeping my face plastered to the coarse floor, the tufts of the rug chafing my undoubtedly bruising cheek.
My heart was hammering in my chest. He was bluffing. He had to be bluffing.
“What could I possibly help you with?” I laced my voice with as much feigned ignorance as I could fathom, already knowing full well what he was going to say. I wasn’t stupid.
“Your little friend and my brother. They ran off together and now there’s not a single trace of them.”
Internally I flinched, knowing I had to lie through my teeth, something I was never very good at. I liked to think I was an open book and honesty was incredibly important to me, even when lying would be easier. That wasn’t a personal ethic I could honor right now. “I don’t know what you think that has to do with me. Last I checked, Birdie dumped his ass after she found out he was just another piece of shit low life junkie like you .”
The words felt wrong, like poison on my lips. Milo wasn’t any of those things. For a long time, I really believed that he was bad news for Birdie, but now that I knew the whole story, I’d never accuse him of that again. He was doing what he needed to keep her safe, and I had to do my part. So, I recited the same story we’d rehearsed a thousand times, just in case this day came. We had been hoping that it wouldn’t.
Talon’s grip on my neck tightened even as another disbelieving laugh left his throat. “Oh, Blondie. You don’t really think I’m that stupid, do you?”
“You don’t want me to answer that,” I ground out, trying fruitlessly yet again to push him off me. When his weight did shift, it was only so he could grab both my wrists in one of his large hands and flip me over, pinning them above my head as he settled over me again. He straddled me, pressing right into my hips to keep me flat to the floor. The position gave me an unhindered view of him and I hated how fresh excitement changed the tune of the hammering in my chest.
It wasn’t fear, at least not entirely. There was an unmistakable heat scorching through my veins, warmth pooling in every place it shouldn’t. I knew it shouldn’t. This man was a predator, clearly some sort of stalker, and if I wasn’t mistaken before, he’d just threatened the life of my mother. The very last thing I should be feeling is all the excitement that had been missing from my every other interaction with past and present lovers. I shouldn’t be feeling it at all.
Talon’s gaze raked over my face, lingering on where I’d wet my parched lips, golden brown eyes lit with humor and something I couldn’t quite name. We sat like that, the only sound in the room our ragged breathing and my pulse in my ears, our eyes caught in some strange battle of the wills. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I forced myself to resume my efforts in throwing the bear of a man off me. This seemed to bring him back to earth, his lips curling up into another cruel grin.
With one fist holding my arms above me, the other scrolled through my now unlocked phone. It only took him a few minutes before his head fell back on a laugh. “Alisha, huh? What an original name.”
The blood rushed from my face.
“W-what are you talking about?”
“Listen baby, I'm on a deadline. I don’t have the time to fuck around and now, neither do you. Despite what you might think about me, I’m not a complete moron. I know that Birdie Koche is your best, and probably only friend. I know you didn’t just ‘go your own ways’ or have some weird girly falling out. I also know that my brother wouldn’t pull any of the shit he pulled unless he was so in love ,” he spat the word like it was a curse, “that he thought it was his only option. He wouldn’t walk out on his family.”
A harsh sound came out of my throat, something like a laugh. “Yeah, some family .”
Something that looked a lot like hurt flashed in Talon’s eyes before he wiped his expression clean, redirecting back to malice. “I’m not so sure your idea of a functional family is much better than mine, Blondie.”
His words stung, deeper than they had any right to, and I reacted on impulse. I couldn’t help myself. Rearing forward, I spit in his face. “Fuck. You. You don’t know shit about my family or me.”
Talon used the back of his free hand to wipe the saliva from his face and yet again, that sick smile returned. “Oh, but I do. Misely Fisher, daughter of Joy and Fred. Third child of seven. Malcolm and Molly are the oldest, then you. Next you’ve got Megan, Monroe, and the twins; Melinda and Macayla. Seems like Mommy and Daddy go hard for the M names, huh?”
I felt my eyes widening and my heart beating impossibly faster, a cold trickle of fear zinging down my spine.
“But that’s about all they go hard for, huh? Seems like Joy and Fred really like to fuck but they don’t actually give two shits about the kids they made in the process, do they?”
“Fuck you.”
“When’s the last time you even spoke to Mommy dearest, baby girl?”
“Fuck. You.”
“Honestly it probably wouldn’t matter to you either way if my uncle slit their fucking throats, would it? It’s not like you even talk to—”
“FUCK YOU! You’re a fucking liar !” I was screaming now, pushing against him with so much force and anger I let myself imagine it made even a little bit of a difference.
Something lit up in Talon’s eyes at the sight and his lips curled again, delighting in my rage. He dropped my phone to the floor, lifting off of me just enough to pull his own from his back pocket. He thumbed through it for a moment before turning the screen to face me.
What I saw horrified me, my throat closing around a gasp. There, in clear, high-definition live video, was my mother and father, speaking to one another over the marble countertop of their kitchen island. Mom was stirring something simmering on the stove, while Dad read from the day’s newspaper, just as he did every night while my mother made them dinner.
I knew I was gaping, my jaw dropped open in a shocked ‘O.’ Talon’s features were grim and statuesque, as if he were trying to hide any and all emotions as he said sternly, “Think I’m a liar now? Kyle’s got the entire property staked out from the front of the driveway to the edge of the treeline in the wooded acres. And if you don’t help me find Milo, my uncle will take your entire family down. And I know you’ve still got sisters in that house, Misely.”
He said my name like a warning, and I hated the way it sounded on his tongue. Hated the way a shiver stole down my spine at the sound of it in his gruff tone and the fact that I couldn’t quite decide what the shiver was from. His eyes bore into mine, intense and serious, as though they could portray everything he wasn’t saying just from that silent exchange.
A sharp rap on the door pulled me from the dangerous thoughts that were already puddling in my mind, distracting me from what should have been priority—my family, now endangered. Talon stood, grabbing one of my elbows and pulling me to wobbling feet. His fingers pinched my chin, and this time when our eyes met, his were filled with violence.
“Behave,” he warned before stalking over to my front door where the unexpected visitor pounded again.
I was wrought with panic, my heart still thundering in my rib cage, my breathing hoarse. My parents, my sisters. Hell, if Talon and his uncle had their sights already set on them, they likely had my other siblings tapped too. It was just the twins, Melinda and Macayla left at home, both seniors in high school. Still, no matter the tense relationship I held with my family, they were mine, and I wouldn’t let anything happen to them if I could do something to stop it.
Then there was Birdie. My best friend and confidant. Helping Talon would most certainly be putting her in danger directly. How could I live with myself if something happened to her? She was the only person in the world, in all my life, who loved me entirely. And I loved her. Probably more than my own brothers and sisters. As much as it pained me to admit that, it was true. But what could I do? What could I do? What could I do? What could I do?
“I don’t care who you say you are.” A terse tone interrupted my internal dilemma, bringing my attention back to where Talon stood with my apartment door cracked. “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve spoken to my neighbor. Now where is Miss Fisher?”
“I told you ma’am, she is using the restroom.”
Talon sounded like the woman was grating on his nerves, as if she was a great inconvenience. I suppose she was. I approached slowly, trying with little success to make myself seem as un-disheveled as possible. I realized with great horror that I was in too-big gray sweatpants and a rather short crop top without a bra. I hadn’t expected company, so it wasn’t as though modesty was important to me when I chose my evening apparel. The fact that I’d been rolling around the floor with Talon in this get-up did not make me feel any better. One wrong move and it would be Tit City.
I pushed my stupid concerns to the wayside and cleared my throat. Talon shot me a look over his shoulder that issued yet another silent threat. Say anything and it’s lights out for Mom and Dad. I swallowed, sidling up beside him to send a saccharine smile to who I’m guessing must’ve been one of my neighbors. I didn’t know her name, as I had never taken the time to introduce myself to anyone in the building. She was an older woman with blue-gray curls wound tight to the top of her head, fine wrinkles mapping her face, and soft brown eyes.
Those eyes roved over me with scrutiny, settling in a narrow scowl on what I now remembered was my bruising cheek. “Hi, my name is Teresa, I’m your neighbor in 4F, right down the hall. I wanted to come down and check on you because I swear I heard a scream a few moments ago. Your boyfriend here wouldn’t call you to the door. Are you all right?”
I almost laughed out loud at her referencing the man beside me as my boyfriend. As if. He’d sooner cut my throat and throw my body parts in the Chicago River than buy me a bouquet of roses or snuggle on the couch to a Rom-Com. But when his palm rested on my hip and tugged me closer to his side, the heat scorched my bare skin. He squeezed just hard enough to reissue his warning from before. Behave .
“I’m so sorry about that, I was in the bathroom.” I lied breathlessly, giving her an apologetic smile. “You’re right, I did scream.” Again, Talon’s fingers dug into my side. “We got in a bit of an argument, and I’m a little embarrassed to admit that I overreacted and screamed at him. I’m so sorry for disturbing you.”
Teresa’s concern didn’t waiver, her gaze bouncing from my bruised cheek to where Talon grasped me. I wanted to widen my eyes and send her the universal woman-signal for, You’re right, he’s hurting me, please help! But I knew I couldn’t. Not if I valued the safety of my family and friends.
Just then, the echoing alarm of my apartment’s buzzer made us all jump, a startled gasp hiccuping past my lips.
“Sweetheart,” I turned to Talon, a hand pressed to my pounding chest, I did my best heart eyes impression for Teresa’s sake, “that should be our dinner. Will you let the pizza guy up?”
His eyes locked on mine, and he said through gritted teeth, “Of course, baby. Don’t forget, your mom is on the phone and she gets crabby when you make her wait.” He leaned down, pressing our lips together as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, as if he hadn’t just casually threatened my mother. Again. I stood there stunned for several long moments, dumbstruck.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” Teresa whispered, leaning toward me. “That’s a nasty bruise. If he’s hurting you in any-”
“He’s not!” I burst out, turning to face her again. “He’s not, I swear. I tripped over a pair of my own shoes earlier, landed my face right into the edge of my dresser.” I coughed out a hoarse laugh that sounded fake even to my own ears. It was alarming how quickly the lie fell from my lips, my stomach turning with distaste at the action. This woman wanted to help me and I was lying right to her face, and not even well.
Teresa eyed me skeptically before whispering, “If that’s the story you want to go with honey, fine. I know you’re not gonna get yourself out of this situation until you’re good and ready. But know this—that boy don’t love you. A man that loves his woman would never raise a hand to her in anger. When you’re ready, I’ll be right down the hall.” She turned and left me there, not waiting for my response.
I wanted to cry, tears burning hot behind my eyelids because damnit, she was right. She had no idea just how right she was, even if the context was wrong. But I didn’t cry, and I didn’t call out after her to beg her to help me. I bit my tongue, accepted the pizza that arrived only moments later by the acne laden teenager who popped out of the elevator, and locked the apartment door behind me when I went back in, appetite lost.