Chapter Six
Nemesis
Juliet
I HURT.
Every inch of my body was sore and burning and throbbing. I rolled over in bed, wanting more sleep, but something had woken me.
No— someone .
“Good morning,” Ms. Vera’s accented greeting pushed through my muddled brain.
“Sleep,” I groaned.
She flipped a switch and the curtain slid open, letting in all sorts of stupid light.
I groaned again and buried my head under the pillow.
“You need your medicine and cream,” she insisted, tearing the puffy cloud of a blanket off of me. “Then, you need to eat.”
The meds and cream sounded awful. The food, though? That was worth waking up for.
I sat up and saw a glass of water, pills, and the ointment lined up on the bedside table. I was in the middle of swallowing the meds when she smiled.
“That was easy,” she said. “I thought I’d have to tell you there was coffee to get you out of bed.”
Nearly choking in my excitement, I wiped my mouth. “There’s coffee?”
“A small cup.” She tutted her disapproval. “Too young, but Mr. Maximo said he owed you.”
My coffee yesterday. I forgot about it.
Who have I become?
I reached for the ointment, but Ms. Vera shook her head. “Shower first. Carefully .”
Shower and coffee?
Oh hell yeah.
I removed the brace and was going to use the wall to get into the bathroom, but Ms. Vera wheeled something over. It resembled a scooter, just with the flat part higher up. “Put your knee here.”
I stood and put my shin on the pad, my foot hanging off back. Steering with the handle, I was able to easily wheel into the bathroom. I was tempted to soak my muscles in the bath with some salts, but everything had been rearranged and I didn’t feel like searching.
Plus, coffee was waiting, and I wasn’t about to miss out again.
I let the hot water pound my skin as I shampooed my hair until my head was raw. I conditioned and washed as best as I could without irritating the scrapes.
When I got out and dried off, I coated my face and arms in soothing aloe before cracking the door to see clothes set out for me.
I pulled on the large tee and oversized joggers, grateful they weren’t constricting. Tugging the pant leg up, I got the ankle brace on when Ms. Vera came back in.
I pushed the other pant leg up over my knee and slathered the ointment on my shins and knees. Bending forward, I tried to reach the tender spots on my back, but I was pretty sure I was disinfecting the shirt.
“Let me do it,” Ms. Vera said, taking the tube from me. She was gentle and quick as she treated the scrapes.
I wondered if Maximo blamed her for my escape, and guilt hit me hard.
“You didn’t get in trouble, did you?” I asked even though I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.
“You need to eat.” I thought she was dismissing my nosy question, which did not bode well, but then she added, “And I’ll tell you a story.”
Using the scooter, I got myself into the sitting room and flopped onto the couch. I didn’t bother to lift the metal dome and just zeroed in on the coffee. It was small, but better than nothing. I added some sugar and cream before clutching the warm mug as I sat back to savor the deliciousness.
Vera didn’t sit and instead flitted around the room to do her dusting as she spoke. “There was a very mean, crooked man. He worked for bad people and did bad things.”
Is she talking about Maximo?
“One of those bad things he did was come to America to try to spread his boss’ power. When he was caught—and it happened fast because he was not a smart man—he fled home, bringing the danger to his wife. A wife he cheated on, beat, and was cruel to.”
Definitely not Maximo.
But poor Ms. Vera.
Why did the men we trusted to take care of us—albeit in very different ways—fail us so miserably?
“The man he’d tried to ruin came and killed the evil man, but he didn’t kill his wife. Knowing she was a victim of her husband’s cruelty, he offered her a choice and a threat. She could stay there or she could come work for him.”
“And the threat?”
“That if she ever crossed him or even thought about avenging her husband’s death, he’d kill her with zero hesitation.”
“But you never did.”
It wasn’t a question, but still Ms. Vera dropped the facade and answered. “Never. He offered me kindness instead of cruelty. A job.” She gave me a pointed look. “A home instead of a hovel. Life instead of pain and struggles.”
Not-so-subtle message received.
“To answer your earlier question, he did not punish me for your actions. The fact you are here is proof that Mr. Maximo is a fair man who doesn’t believe in punishing people for others’ mistakes.
” She paused, scanning the beautiful room before continuing.
“And running was a mistake. One I hope you don’t make again, sweet girl.
Because along with being fair, Mr. Maximo is no fool.
And next time you will not be as incredibly lucky as you’ve been. ”
Not-so-subtle threat received, too.
“Now eat,” she ordered. “I’ll be back.”
As Ms. Vera left, I pulled the dome off and grimaced.
Sausage patties and egg whites.
I guess someone decided I need to be extra-healthy when healing.
Damn them.
I drank my coffee and ate my small bowl of berries before choking down the eggs and the sausage. When I’d eaten all I could, I scootered into the bathroom to brush the sage taste out of my mouth. And then I scootered around because I was bored.
When my legs hurt too bad to continue, I went back to the couch to watch TV.
But it was just my luck that the one time I wanted to watch, the cable was out. I flipped through fuzzy channel after fuzzy channel, but I only had access to a few crappy daytime talk shows or fake court dramas. I settled in to wait for The Price is Right .
Maybe I’ll just doze.
_______________
It felt like I’d just drifted off when Ms. Vera was back with a goon. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the handsome one. Extra unfortunately, it was the guy who used to ignored me but had taken to glaring.
Apparently, he’s holding a grudge about being locked in a room.
I was about to apologize but bit my tongue and returned his glare.
Now he knows how it feels.
He picked up my old tray and left as Ms. Vera put down the new one.
“I just had breakfast,” I pointed out.
“Four hours ago.”
Okay, so I did more than doze.
Ms. Vera left before I could mention the cable being out.
Oh well, I’ll ask at dinner.
Since my breakfast had been less than appetizing, my stomach grumbled, happy to eat again. I removed the dome and my empty stomach sank. Thick white bread sandwiched lettuce, tomato, cheese, and—so gross—tuna salad. It smelled like low tide on a hot day, and my stomach churned.
Holding my breath, I scraped off as much tuna as I could before adding the small portion of chips to the topping sandwich. It took all my stubbornness, but I got it down without losing my lunch and breakfast.
The bowl of berries was even smaller than that morning’s, but I savored each delicious bite.
I’d just finished when someone knocked and the door was opened. Ignore-now-glare man came in to get the tray. He tossed something to the couch next to me.
“What’s that?” I asked, not tearing my eyes from him.
I didn’t think he’d attack me, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t trust anyone, but especially not people I’d ticked off.
“From the boss,” was all he said before leaving.
Once the door clicked closed, I looked at the box next to me. A beautiful iridescent bow was on top of the pretty gray wrapping paper. I took the bow and slapped it on my head before tentatively unwrapping the paper. It took me a moment to figure out what I was looking at.
An iPad.
He gave me an iPad.
I lifted the lid from the box to find a shiny, sleek tablet. It was so pretty. I wasn’t sure if technology was supposed to be pretty, but it was. My experience with gadgets was limited. My old cell had been a laggy brick. The computer at the gym was one step above a hamster-powered machine.
The iPad was the opposite of both.
Careful not to drop it, I took it out of the box and spotted a note underneath.
A belated birthday present
-M
How did he know about my birthday?
I pressed the power button to find it’d been set up and was ready to use.
Out of curiosity, I tried to download Facebook, only to find it—along with every other app—had been blocked.
Most of the internet was unavailable, too, but I could visit some sites.
Bringing up Google, I typed in Maximo Black to find it completely restricted.
No websites, no pictures, no news stories.
No surprise.
It was worth a shot.
I went to the bookstore app but wasn’t able to download anything, even the freebies. When I checked out iBooks, there were already some mysteries and historical nonfictions downloaded.
Since libraries were free, books had been one of the few sources of entertainment I’d had access to no matter where we’d lived. I preferred serial killer biographies or true crime, with the occasional fantasy thrown in, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
Turning off the soap opera I’d barely been following, I opened one of the books and settled in.
I didn’t care that it was locked down tighter than a thirteen-year-old boy’s laptop. I didn’t care that the book selection sucked. It was an iPad and it was mine .
My fingertips ran across some ridges on the back, and I flipped it over to see an engraving.
Happy Birthday, little dove.
I wonder if he knows how few presents I’ve received in my life… and that this is, by far, the best one.
_______________
“Do you know what’s up with the TV?” I asked Ms. Vera when she returned with dinner later.
I’d finished one of the mystery novels, despite it being boring, long-winded, and so predictable, I’d correctly guessed the clichéd villain in the second chapter.
My brain needed a rest.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.
“None of the channels are working.”
She glanced at it. “I’ll ask one of the men.”
“Thanks.”
She set down the tray. “It’s time for medicine and cream.”
Damn.
“Okay,” I muttered.
I scootered after her into the bedroom. Like the morning, I took the pill and did my legs before she helped me reach my back.
“Thanks,” I said when she finished.
She offered me one of her motherly smiles. “Go wash your hands then eat.”
I didn’t argue because my disassembled fishy sandwich had left a lot to be desired.
When I returned to the sitting room, Ms. Vera was already gone. Loneliness swirled around me.
A familiar feeling.
Sighing, I flipped through the three channels that worked.
Two were playing the news and one had a decade-old syndicated sitcom.
Leaving it on that, I lifted the dome to reveal a huge piece of roasted chicken.
I didn’t even care that it was accompanied by a few roasted carrots and a butt-ton of disgusting yellow squash coins.
The chicken was massive and would be more than enough on its own.
Cutting a big piece, I stabbed it with a fork and shoved the whole chunk into my mouth.
And then I spit it back out into a napkin.
Rosemary.
The smell I hadn’t been able to place was my nemesis herb. My mouth tasted like I’d just made out with a Christmas tree.
I peeled the skin back and picked at the meat. The flavor was still there but not as strong. I ate the carrots before trying a piece of squash out of desperation. The texture and taste were as off-putting as I remembered. More so, actually.
There was no fruit, just a glass of milk I chugged to clear away the pine tree taste.
Ms. Vera must not have told Mr. Freddy what I hated.
Hopefully he’s still paying attention to what I’ve left behind.
Like after lunch, there was a knock on the door before the newly-glaring guy came in. He was silent as he grabbed the tray.
“Uh, hey—” I started, wanting to ask for something else to eat. When his angry eyes aimed at me, though, I changed my mind. Putting my knees to my chest like a shield, I wrapped my arms around my legs and stammered an apology. “Sorry, forget I said anything.”
His expression went scary hard, but his tone was gentle when he asked, “What do you need?”
“Nothing.” He glowered, and I scooted into the corner which just made him glower more. Since he didn’t seem willing to leave until I spoke, I said, “I, uh, wanted to say I’m sorry about yesterday. It won’t happen again.”
His expression stayed tight, but he lifted his chin and left.
Okay then.
Apology accepted?
_______________
The next morning, it wasn’t Ms. Vera who woke me. It was the OG glaring goon and he showed up even earlier than Ms. Vera did.
I was grumpy at the early wakeup after having tossed and turned the night before.
I was even grumpier when I got to the sitting room to see there was no coffee on my tray.
And I was damn disgruntled to see my breakfast was a frittata filled with squash, mushrooms, and chopped breakfast sausage.
I ate around the squash, but it was cut small, infiltrating every damn bite. The rest of the frittata was a work of delicious art, so the inclusion of the squash was even more infuriating.
I hate Mr. Freddy.
_______________
Despite the fact I’d started reading during breakfast, I was only a handful of chapters into a dull book about ancient civilizations when the goon brought lunch.
Desperate for human interaction, I set down my iPad to say hi to him, but he put the tray on the table and hauled ass out again like the room was on fire.
Do I smell bad?
At the thought of unpleasant odors, I inhaled, my shoulder slumping in relief when I didn’t catch a whiff of tuna from under the dome. I excitedly whipped it off to see another sandwich. I wasn’t sure what it was, but it wasn’t tuna, so that was a step in the right direction.
I took a tentative bite before grimacing.
The rosemary chicken.
All the times I offered to eat my leftovers, and they finally took me up on it with rosemary freaking chicken.
I opened the sandwich, willing to eat the lettuce, tomato, and cheese again, but there was nothing but the awful rosemary chicken salad.
Pushing it aside, I grabbed the small spoon out of the orange half that was in a small bowl.
Who gives someone half an orange and a weird spoon?
I scooped out a chunk and popped it into my mouth only to quickly realize it wasn’t an orange at all. It was a bitter, tart, disgusting grapefruit.
Stupid grapefruit, piggybacking off a grape’s good name to trick people into thinking it’s delicious, too.
Giving up on lunch all together, I picked up the iPad to read the stupid book.
There’s only so much Mesopotamia a girl can handle before she wishes she was wiped out by conquerors.