Chapter 26 #2
“I got the car.” Marlon offered to get rid of the car they’d arrived in. “I’ll take it to that shop on Biscayne to get pulled apart first thing in the morning.”
“Don’t burn your clothes until the sun is out,” Vance advised. “It’s two o’clock in the goddamn morning. Backyard fires at this time of night—that’s suspicious, kid.”
Sighing, I returned my attention to Lauren, nodding for her to follow me up the stairs. I hadn’t realized how much I was dreading the last thing on my to-do list until it became the only thing left to do.
I had to talk to her.
***
The first thing she did once we were alone, was apologize.
I wouldn’t let her, raising a hand in a silent plea to get her to stop. I hated it when Lauren apologized for things that weren’t her fault. My eyes regretfully passed over the cuts and bruises that blemished her once perfect brown skin.
“Don’t apologize for anything. Just follow me into the bathroom right quick.”
Lauren didn’t question it. Instead, she wordlessly stepped through the threshold as soon as I opened the door, passing through my closet before stopping at the bathroom sink and turning to face me.
To the question in her eyes, I quietly instructed for her to, “Hop onto the counter for me.”
And she did, leveling out our heights so that we’d be eye-to-eye.
With her seated, I crouched down to the cabinets under the sink, rummaging around until I found what I was looking for.
My bathroom was kept stocked like a hotel thanks to Silas’ diligent housekeeping staff.
I’d never really appreciated the over-the-top nature of the makeshift pharmacy under my sink until now.
In the empty space beside Lauren’s lap, I set the first-aid kit down onto the counter.
Neither of us spoke as I examined the damage done, gently turning her head so that I could get a better look at the darkening bruise spreading just below her left eye.
The skin at the lesion had thinned over the swelling, not quite bleeding, but not quite dry either.
“So,” I started, pulling an antiseptic wipe from the box of supplies. “Let’s start from the beginning.”
I was ripping the package open when she pushed out a breath and shook her head. “I didn’t mean to get myself in this situ—”
“Hey,” I cut her off, raising an eyebrow. “That sounds like an apology. Just tell me what happened.”
“Well—ouch! That stings!” She snatched her head back and away from the alcohol wipe, her eyebrows coming together in outrage. In spite of myself, I cracked a half-smile.
“It’s necessary,” I responded, guiding the napkin back to her cheek. “Talk to me.”
“My dad kicked me out.”
“In the middle of the night?”
She nodded. Goddamn, Joshua Caplan really ain’t shit. “My mom tried to get me to stay, but I don’t know… Once I heard the words out of his mouth…”
“…It didn’t feel right to stay,” I finished her sentence.
“Me and my pride,” she muttered, scolding herself for her choice. Maybe she thought she was beating me to the punch. Personally, I had no desire to criticize her for her decision.
I tossed the wet wipe in the trash; it had turned from white to pink.
“And then what happened?” I asked as I uncapped a tube of Neosporin. I tried to keep my touch light as I applied the pain relieving ointment to her cheek.
“I walked to a bus station.”
“The one just outside of Coconut Grove?” I asked, reaching for some gauze and a large Band-Aid. “That’s at least six miles out from where you stay.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I know. I ran the first four.”
“Sounds like you wore yourself out.” Over the gauze pad, I gently adhered the waterproof Band-Aid to cover up the entire wound. Now that I didn’t have to see it anymore, I felt a little better myself. “Were you planning on goin’ somewhere?”
“No, I just needed to sit down.”
“Stick out your arm for me,” I instructed, pulling loose another alcohol wipe. “And so the bus station is where you got picked up?”
“Not far from it.” She drew in a sharp breath through her teeth, as the alcohol seeped into her less serious cuts. “After I shot this guy named Swiss, the other two pulled up and—”
“After you did what?”
“Yeahhhh,” she said the word slowly, her voice regretful. “I shot someone.”
I didn’t say anything. I might’ve been speechless.
“He didn’t die. I closed my eyes. It hit his arm. Lucky shot.” That’s an unlucky shot where I come from. “I dropped the gun after the first shot.”
“Too loud?”
She nodded. “So loud that it hurt. After that—me against three. Some things you just can’t prepare for… They dropped the one I injured off at the hospital—”
“Sounds like a loose end.” The thought of having to hunt down this unforeseen third person was already making me tired.
Lauren shook her head. “I really don’t think you have to worry about him.
The other two were going to double cross him anyway.
They were going to take the money they got for me and cut him out of the separation.
When he can’t get a hold of them, he’ll probably just think they hightailed it to Mexico, or something, without him. ”
“You’re handling all this a lot better than I anticipated,” I finally addressed the elephant in the room.
“I’m strong,” she assured, not sounding all the way assertive. More convincingly, she revised, “Well… I’m stronger.”
“Did anything else happen tonight that you wanna tell me about?” My fingers brushed over the scratches on her skin regretfully. This wouldn’t have happened if I sought her out after Memphis, I found myself thinking.
“I wasn’t raped, if that’s what you’re alluding to,” she stated rather bluntly.
“Grip, the one that you um…” She put up her fists and did a really bad one-two combo, indicating she was talking about the second one I killed.
“…he punched me, and tried to get me to go down on him. And uh… I told him I’d bite it off. ”
That was objectively funny, but because it was Lauren, I couldn’t even crack a smile. I was too angry.
“Did you really?” I encouraged her to keep talking as I pressed a smaller waterproof Band-Aid onto one of her elbows.
“It’s not as brave as it sounds,” she confessed with a casual shrug. “I knew they couldn’t kill me.”
Something was off.
“Do you think you might be dissociating right now?” I asked bluntly.
“Oooh,” she cooed, impressed. “Bringing out the psychology terminology, are we?”
“You’re avoiding the question,” I informed. “It’s okay, Lauren. Coping mechanisms are for coping. They’re normal.”
She met my eyes directly. “I’m not coping.”
“You just watched me kill two niggas in my living room. And, to add insult to injury, you shot someone for the first time tonight.” I tilted my head to the side skeptically. “You almost seem…normal. Happy, even. Something ain’t right.”
“I’m not happy.” Lauren closed her eyes and drew in a calming inhale. “I’m relieved,” she breathed out.
I nodded, thinking I understood. “You thought you were going to die tonight,” I assumed.
“No, it’s not that,” she replied. I raised an eyebrow and she finally opened her eyes to look at me. They were glossy and turning pink at the corners. “Seventy-three people, Kain. I thought you died.”
Oh.
“Seventy-three people,” she repeated. “And I… I couldn’t know for sure if you…” When her head slumped forward and her forehead landed on my shoulder, I knew it was because she didn’t want me to see her tears. “But now… Now I know.”